Claimed for Makarov's Baby

‘Why not?’

She sighed. ‘Because my parents were impossible romantics. They’ve spent their lives following the demands of their hearts, but never bothered listening to their heads. They live in Australia now. They went there after seeing a documentary on ostrich farming and decided to start up a farm of their own. They were seduced by big blue skies and a hot sun and the idea of being close to the earth—without stopping to think that a little bit of farming experience might be a good idea before they actually channelled all their savings into it.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘What happened?’

She shrugged. ‘What everyone told them would happen, only they were too stubborn to pay any attention. They lost all their money and the farm was repossessed—and now my mother has had the bright idea of making silver jewellery, at a time when mass-market products are in the ascendancy, so nobody is buying hers. They are currently travelling around New South Wales in a camper van, selling her wares in markets and barely making enough money to make ends meet.’

He was silent for a minute. ‘And what do these two impossible romantics think of Leo?’ he asked suddenly. ‘Do they mind you having a child out of wedlock? Are they close to their grandson?’

She shook her head. ‘No, they’re not close to him—at least, not geographically. We email and talk via the internet once a week, but it’s not quite the same thing. They can’t afford to come to England and I was only able to afford to fly out there once. That was...’ She hesitated.

His eyes narrowed.

‘That was another reason why you decided to marry Chico, wasn’t it? So that you could afford to visit them more often?’

‘That’s right.’ His perception surprised her. ‘I thought they’d be pleased but they...’

‘They what?’

His unfamiliar interest in her personal life was beguiling, but it was making her think about stuff it was better to avoid. Her parents had wanted her and Tara to marry for love because they believed in love. She did not. She believed in providing security and protection for yourself because love was flaky and unreliable. It made people make stupid, random decisions like going off to the other end of the world, fuelled by nothing but a pipe dream, just as they had done.

But once she had believed in love, hadn’t she? She had been sucked in by that meaningless fairy tale, just like everyone else. She’d misinterpreted her boss’s relaxed attitude towards her and thought it might be something else. Her feelings for him had bubbled away, getting hotter and hotter. By the time he’d kissed her that night in his apartment, all her immunity had gone—and she realised too late that she could never get it back again. Before, she had been Erin his trusted aide...and afterwards?

Afterwards, she had been just another woman he’d bedded. Just another woman he couldn’t wait to see the back of, scrabbling around on the floor to locate her scattered underwear. But at least she had one thing to thank Dimitri for. With one stroke he had effectively destroyed the love myth which had been building up inside her. As she’d walked home that morning, wearing last night’s clothes, she had vowed she would never be like her parents.

Never.

She shook her head. ‘They think that babies should only be the product of love. And even if that patently isn’t true—I don’t want that kind of love.’

‘You don’t want love?’ he echoed slowly. ‘Why not?’

‘Because it takes over your life.’ She shook her head impatiently. ‘I’ve seen what it does to people—the way my parents allowed it to dominate their lives, so that nothing else really mattered. I’ve seen it break hearts and cause jealousy. It’s nothing but a con. A way of justifying desire, that’s all. Now who’s the one looking shocked? What’s the matter, Dimitri? Do you think all women are programmed to lose their hearts to a man?’

He didn’t take the bait. ‘Going back to your parents, do they know I’m the father of your child?’

She shook her head. ‘No. Nobody does, except Tara.’

‘So why not? Why the desire for secrecy? You could have taken the story to the press,’ he observed. ‘You could have earned yourself a nice little payout without having to resort to a sham marriage.’

‘I would never do that,’ she said fiercely. ‘That kind of cheap publicity is the last thing I would inflict on Leo.’

He regarded her thoughtfully. ‘But there was another reason for your discretion, wasn’t there, Erin? Because if you’d gone to the press—I would inevitably have found out and that was something you didn’t want to risk, did you?’