Christmas Baby For The Greek

“But perhaps you think the same about me.” His lips twisted as he swished the wine in his glass. “That I am as selfish and coldhearted as every other man in my family.” He looked up at the beautiful, tranquil villa. “I hate this place.”

“This?” Holly looked up in bewilderment at the magnificent Greek villa, overlooking the dark Aegean Sea. She shook her head wryly. “You should have seen the house I grew up in. A two-bedroom apartment, with peeling wallpaper and a heater that broke down in winter.”

“After my parents’ divorce, my mother and I briefly lived in a homeless shelter in Boston.”

He’d never shared that little tidbit with anyone. She looked shocked.

“How is that possible?” She pointed toward the villa. “There’s no way you could be homeless. Not with a father as rich as that!”

“He cut my mother off without a penny in the divorce.”

“How could he?”

“He found a way.” A humorless smile traced his lips. “When my mother got tired of all his blatant cheating, he was too spiteful to even pay her the paltry amount guaranteed by the prenup. So he gave her a choice—if she voluntarily gave up that income, she could have full custody of me. He knew she’d agree.” He took a drink. “The last thing she wanted was to leave me here with him.”

“He cheated on your mother?”

Stavros snorted. “You think my cousin Oliver is bad? My father was worse. And my grandfather worse still. He impregnated every willing woman for miles around. My grandmother just gritted her teeth and pretended it wasn’t happening.” He shook his head. “I don’t even know all my cousins. Oliver’s mother was the result of a fling between my grandfather and one of the maids.”

“Oh,” she said lamely.

Looking toward the sea, he said softly, “But my mother grew up in a different generation. She couldn’t put up with it forever. Seeing her suffer broke my heart. I vowed I’d never be on either side of it.”

“Never love anyone?”

“Or let them love me. Love always has a winner and a loser. A conqueror and a conquered.” He gave a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “I decided long ago I never wanted to be either.”

Holly looked past the villa’s whitewashed terrace, illuminated by light from the villa behind them, to the black moon-swept sea beyond.

“But you still hurt me,” she whispered. “In spite of that.”

“I know.” He took another slow, deliberate sip of wine. “No wonder when you found out you were pregnant, you decided I was a cruel bastard who didn’t deserve either of you.”

“Was I wrong?”

Her words seemed to echo in the soft Greek night. In the distance, he could hear the roar of waves pounding the beach.

“I was selfish when I seduced you,” he said slowly. He lifted his gaze to hers. “But not when I let you go. I pushed you away because I was no good to anyone, least of all you.”

“Like I said, you could have told me—”

“Holly, if I’d told you I was dying, it would have only bound you to me more. You would have given me everything, all your heart and your life, until I died—and even after. It would have destroyed you.”

Her

lovely face looked stricken, then angry.

“You really think I’m pathetic, don’t you?” She raised her chin. “You’re so sure I would have fallen in love with you?”

“Yes.”

“Because you think you’re irresistible.” Her tone was a sneer that seemed like an ill-fitting costume on her.

Stavros took a deep breath. “Because you’re the most loving person I’ve ever known. And I couldn’t ruin your life like that.” He gave a small smile. “Not even me.”

Her eyes were huge and limpid in the moonlight.

“I expected to die,” he continued in a low voice. “But to my surprise, I lived. And now we have a child. Surely you must see that my life can never be the same.”