Reluctant Mistress, Blackmailed Wife
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Taken aback by the blocking technique of the security man, who had got in her way, and then rudely crowded off the pavement by the heaving, shouting and disgruntled members of the press, who had surged past her in an effort to get at Alexandros, Katie was momentarily at a loss. Alexandros had seen her. But had he recognised her? Had he sent that beefy security guy to ward her off? Would he have spoken to her if the journalists had not been present?
She thought not. He hadn’t smiled, hadn’t shown the smallest sign that a friendly welcome might be in the offing. He was such a bastard, she thought painfully, a horrible sense of failure seeping through her. But even as her shoulders drooped, a defiant spirit of rebellion was powering her up again. She marched back round the corner and through the front doors of the bank, and right up to the reception desk.
‘I’d like to speak to Mr Christakis,’ she announced.
The receptionist who came to attend to her studied Katie fixedly, as if trying to decide whether or not she was pulling her leg. In that intervening moment of assessment Katie became uncomfortably aware of her sodden hair and shabby jacket and jeans.
‘I’ll take your name.’ The elegant young woman behind the desk switched on her professional cool. ‘But I should warn you that Mr Christakis is exceptionally busy and his appointments are usually booked months in advance. Perhaps you could see someone else?’
‘I want to see Alexandros. Someone else won’t do. Please just see that he gets my name. He knows me.’ Aware of the silent disbelief which greeted that declaration, Katie retreated with as much dignity as she could manage to a seat. She watched the receptionist commune with her two colleagues. Someone stifled a giggle, and her anxious face burned as she affected an interest she did not feel in the heavy-duty financial publications laid out for perusal on a coffee table. She was getting paranoid, she scolded herself. In all probability nobody was talking about her—just as the most likely explanation for what had happened outside was that Alexandros simply hadn’t recognised her.
She lifted an uncertain hand to her wet hair and suddenly reached round to undo her ponytail. She dug a comb out of her bag and surreptitiously began to tease out the limp damp curls, praying for her natural ringlets to emerge, rather than the pure frizz that had made her scrape her hair back so tightly when she was a teenager that her eyes had used to water. She wondered why she was bothering. He wouldn’t agree to see her.
While she sat there she finally registered a fact that should have occurred to her sooner. She had got his name totally wrong. Had Alexandros ever even received her letter telling him that she was pregnant? She had sent one to his Irish residence, and when there had been no answer she had sent a second one care of the rental company that had leased the house to him. But would a letter with the wrong name on it have been forwarded? What if Alexandros hadn’t got either?
‘Miss Fletcher?’ the receptionist murmured.
Katie stood up hurriedly. ‘Yes?’
‘I have a call for you.’
Surprise marking her delicate triangular features, Katie accepted the cordless phone extended to her.
‘Katie?’
It was Alexandros, and she was so taken aback by the sound of that dark melodic drawl of his that she almost dropped the phone. ‘Alexandros?’
‘I’m waiting for a fix on a satellite link and I’m afraid that I only have a few minutes. You’ve picked a bad day to call…’
‘The merger,’ she filled in, the receiver crammed tight to her ear as she wandered away in a preoccupied daze. His voice had an aching familiarity that tugged cruelly at her heartstrings and threatened to take her back in time. ‘But that’s why I came. I knew you’d be here, and I have to see you.’
‘Why?’ Alexandros enquired with the most studious casualness. Everything she had so far said was setting off warning bells of caution. ‘Do you need some sort of help? Is that why you asked to see me?’
‘Yes…but it’s not something I can discuss on the phone or without privacy,’ Katie told him tautly. ‘Just out of interest…er…did you ever receive a letter from me?’
‘No.’
‘Oh…’ Katie was stumped by that unhesitating negative, for if he didn’t even know that she had been pregnant he was in for a huge shock.
‘Why can’t you just tell me in brief what this is about?’ Alexandros enquired drily.
‘Because I have to see you to talk about it,’ she reminded him, feeling under unfair pressure and not knowing how to deal with it in the circumstances.
‘That may not be possible—’
Katie lowered her voice to say, almost pleadingly, ‘I wouldn’t have come here if I wasn’t desperate—’
‘Then cut to the chase,’ he cut in with cold clarity. ‘I’m not into mysteries.’
A surge of angry tears burned the back of Katie’s eyes. ‘Okay, so you won’t see me,’ she gasped. ‘But don’t say I didn’t give you the chance!’
With that ringing declaration, Katie cut the connection and marched back to the desk to return the phone. Before she could even set it down it started ringing again, and as she walked away the receptionist called her name a second time. She spun round. The handset was being offered to her. She shook her head in urgent refusal. She was uneasily conscious that quite a few people seemed to be staring in her direction, particularly a thin fair man with sharp eyes that made her colour. Without further ado she turned on her heel and headed hurriedly out of the bank.
She was furious that she had been so impulsive and naive. It had been downright stupid to try and speak to Alexandros again! He didn’t want to speak to her or hear from her, and the news that he was the father of twins would be even less welcome. She reckoned that the only way she was likely to get financial help from Alexandros now would be by approaching a solicitor to make a paternity claim. But she also knew that legal wheels turned very slowly, and would not provide an answer in the short term. So she needed to think about overcoming her scruples and approaching a newspaper, she conceded unhappily.
Alexandros would be very angry with her. A shard of all too vivid memory was assailing her. She remembered throwing a breakfast tray at him and screaming. His expression of shock would live with her to her dying day. It had dawned on her then that nobody had ever spoken to Alexandros like that before, or told him that he was absolute hell to work for and impossible to please. Her disrespect had affronted him. Only when he had been persuaded to see her side of things had he been willing to forgive the offence, and he had still ended up getting his own way. My way or the highway was a punchline that might have coined for Alexandros Christakis.
It took Katie an hour to get back to Leanne’s flat, but nobody was in when she got there. Her friend had warned her that she might go shopping with her mother, she recalled ruefully. As she walked back along the street, a limousine nudged into the kerb just ahead of her, and a big middle-aged man in a suit leapt out to jerk open the passenger door.
‘Mr Christakis would like to give you a lift,’ he announced.
Taken by surprise, she froze, studying the tinted black windows of the long glossy silver vehicle with frowning intensity before moving forward in abrupt acceptance of the invitation. Whether she liked it or not, she knew that it was the best offer she was likely to get. Her heartbeat racing so fast that she felt dizzy, she climbed into the limo.
CHAPTER TWO
ALEXANDROS dealt Katie a grim nod of acknowledgement that would have made her shiver, had not less cautious responses already been running rampant within her.
Lounging back in a black designer suit teamed with a striped shirt and smooth silk tie, he was the very image of the billionaire banker she had read about on the internet. Handsome, incredibly sophisticated, and intimidating to the nth degree though that sleek image was, there was also something impossibly sexy about him. She went hot pink with shame at that perverse thought. He had not lost the power to reduce her principles and her common sense to rubble round her feet.
‘If you wanted my attention, you’ve got it,’ Alexandros delivered with lethal cool, while he appraised her, his keen scrutiny highly critical. She had the heart-shaped face of a cat, big eyes above slanted cheekbones and a generous mouth. Unusual, rather exotic, but ultimately nothing special, with a tangle of bright copper hair that cruelly accentuated the hollows and shadows in her pale features. She was tiny and fine-boned—too thin for his tastes. By no stretch of the imagination was she beautiful—and some of the most beautiful women in the world had adorned his bed. He could not imagine why she had once made him seethe with lust.
Her lashes lifted on languorous eyes as rich and deep a green as moss. His gaze instantly narrowed, increasing in intensity almost without his volition. She shifted position with an indescribably feline movement of slender limbs that made his big powerful frame tense.
The silence stretched and stretched.
‘So…?’ Alexandros prompted, his dark drawl rough-edged as he fought the raw tide of sensual memory afflicting him. She had always smelt of soap and fresh air. The most expensive perfume in the world made her sneeze uncontrollably. He cleared his mind of that frivolous imagery with the rigorous restraint that had been second nature to him from his early twenties. He had learned then how to shut down and shut out unwelcome emotions and reactions. He thought it significant that he had got involved with Katie Fletcher when he had been emotionally off balance. Presumably, and ironically, that had added an extra edge which his encounters had lacked since then.
‘What’s this about?’ he asked with level austerity.
Just watching him, Katie felt her mouth run dry—because he was so incredibly handsome. She found herself tracing the image of her sons in his lean bronzed features, noting the straight dark brows, the definite chin and nose, and the ebony hair that gleamed with vitality. Her little boys were like mini-clones of their father. She lowered her lashes, discomfiture taking over, for what she had to tell him loomed over her like a mountain that shut out the sun. He would soon be wishing that he had never laid eyes on her, she thought painfully. ‘I wish you’d got that letter I sent you…’
To Alexandros she looked so young at that moment that guilt penetrated even his polished armour of self-containment. What lustful madness had overcome his scruples eighteen months ago? He might as well have seduced a schoolgirl. Every word she spoke underlined the reality that she had been defenceless. The other women he had known wouldn’t write him letters after he dumped them.
‘Let’s move on from the letter.’ Alexandros was now taking further note of her shabby clothes, and the fact that the sole was peeling off one of her trainers. Her poverty was obvious and his distrust increased. He could not forget the potential threat with which she had concluded their exchange on the phone. ‘What’s happened to you?’
Wretchedly aware of his visual inspection, and inwardly cringing from it, Katie muttered tightly, apologetically, ‘I know…I don’t look the same, do I? Life’s been tough over the past year—’
‘If you need money, I’ll give it to you. Drama and sob stories are not required,’ Alexandros imparted.
Her pointed chin came up in a defiant motion, her green eyes full of strain and hurt pride. ‘My goodness, did you think I was about to make you sit through some sob story? Well, then, I won’t try to wrap up the bad news. I’ll just get to the point. You got me pregnant…’
Astonished by that claim, Alexandros went straight into defensive mode, not a muscle moving on his darkly handsome face.
Katie was as pale as milk. ‘I wasn’t very pleased either. Well, to be honest, I was just terrified—’
‘Is this some kind of sting? It’s a very clumsy one.’
Her white brow indented. ‘A sting?’ she repeated blankly.
‘I don’t believe that I made you pregnant. Why would I only be hearing about it now?’ Alexandros demanded in a smooth, derisive undertone that suggested that what she had said was too stupid for words. ‘How can you expect me to believe this nonsense?’
‘The reason that you’re only hearing about it now is that you didn’t give me your address.’
‘But I left you a phone number.’
‘And I rang it more than a dozen times, and every time I was told you were unavailable or in a meeting!’ Her voice rose as she recalled how her sense of humiliation had grown with every fruitless phone call.
Alexandros continued to look stonily unimpressed. ‘I don’t accept that. My staff are very efficient—’
‘Eventually one of your employees got so tired of my calls that she took pity on me. She explained that I wasn’t on the special list she had. And, as she said, “If your name isn’t on my boss’s list, you won’t get to speak to him this side of eternity!”’ Katie completed rawly.
Alexandros was frowning. ‘Your name must have been on the list—’
‘No, it wasn’t. Why pretend? We both know why my name wasn’t on your fancy VIP list,’ Katie condemned, with a bitterness she could not hide. ‘You didn’t want to hear from me. You had no wish for further contact. That’s fine, that’s okay, but don’t try and criticise me for not telling you I was pregnant when I had no way of contacting you!’
‘You’re hysterical…I’m not continuing this conversation with you,’ Alexandros asserted with cold clarity, outrage turning his dark eyes into chips of gold ice because she had raised her voice.
Katie snatched in a deep, shuddering breath even as she wondered if he remembered her once serving him coffee on her knees to make him laugh. ‘I’m not hysterical. I’m sorry I’m so angry, but I can’t help it. I should’ve known this wasn’t going to work. I shouldn’t have come to your precious bank and I shouldn’t have got into this car—’
‘Calm down,’ Alexandros interposed with chilling cool, while he tried to work out her motivation for the tale she was telling so badly. He could not credit that what she was telling him was true. He was willing to admit that with her he had not been one hundred per cent careful when it had come to contraception. There was a very slight possibility that conception could have taken place. He thought it highly unlikely, though, and his usually alert and versatile mind was curiously reluctant to move on from that concrete conviction. He did not recognise his own unresponsiveness as simple shock at the announcement she had made.
Katie put trembling hands up to her face and covered it. Calm down? Her brow was pounding hard with tension; her tummy was in twisting knots. As he watched her, his lean hands clenched but he remained otherwise motionless.
On the other side of the glass partition, Cyrus was trying to catch his employer’s eye in the mirror, to work out where to go next. In a sudden decision, Alexandros touched a button to seal the passenger area into privacy. If she cried, he did not want her tears to be witnessed. ‘It’s all right,’ he told her grittily, for gentleness did not come naturally to him and he would not let himself reach across the space separating them to make physical contact with her. ‘You’ll be fine.’
‘Nothing’s all right…’ Katie felt as if she was banging her head up against a brick wall. He wasn’t listening. He didn’t believe her. She was wasting her breath. He would probably look at Toby and Connor and find it equally easy to say that they weren’t his. Then what? She bowed her head, exhaustion overwhelming the nervous energy that had powered her into confronting him.
Alexandros recognised her fragile emotional state. She was desperate and broke. Presumably that was why she had come to him with a foolish story that she had hoped would engage his sympathy. It must not have occurred to her that a fictional tale about a pregnancy that had come to nothing was pointless. But his anger had already ebbed, to be replaced by an effort to understand her predicament that would have disconcerted anyone who knew him well. While he gave freely to a host of worthy charitable causes, he had always avoided situations where anything more personal was required.
‘Are you unemployed?’ he asked, deciding to concentrate on practicalities in the hope that those issues would ground her.
Katie darted a surprised glance at him above her fingers and slowly, carefully, lowered her hands back down on to her lap. ‘Yes.’
‘So you decided to approach me for…help. That’s okay.’ Alexandros resolved to offer assistance in every way he could. ‘Where are you living at present?’
Unsure where this dialogue could be heading, Katie blinked. ‘In a bed and breakfast hotel…I had to leave the bedsit I was in.’
Alexandros had not a clue what a bed and breakfast hotel was. But he knew a bedsit was one room, which he found shocking enough in the accommodation stakes. He surveyed her, wondering if she had lost weight because she wasn’t getting enough to eat. He was sincerely shaken by that thought. ‘Are you hungry?’
Slowly, she nodded, for it was hours since she had eaten, but his questions were bewildering her. ‘Aren’t you going to ask me about the baby?’
The repetition of that unfortunate word ‘baby’ had the same effect on Alexandros as a bucket of cold water. His lean, strong face hardened. ‘I thought we had moved on from that improbable tale. It’s not winning you any points with me.’
Katie flushed a deep painful pink. ‘Why are you so convinced that I’m lying? Do I have to go through a solicitor for you to take me seriously?’
Almost imperceptibly Alexandros tensed; that reference to legal counsel did not fit the conclusions he had reached.
‘You just don’t want to know, do you?’ Katie shook her head in pained and angry embarrassment. ‘But I’m bringing up your children!’
‘My…children?’ Alexandros repeated in blunt disbelief. ‘Are you out of your mind?’
‘I had twins…Have you any idea how hard this is for me?’ Katie demanded chokily. ‘How do you think it feels for me to have to ask you for a hand-out?’
Twins! That single word hit Alexandros harder than any other. It was a fact known to few that he was a twin, whose sibling had been stillborn. ‘You’re telling me that you have given birth to twins?’
‘What do you care?’ she gasped. ‘Look, stop the car and let me out…I’ve had enough of this!’
‘Give me your address.’
While Alexandros opened the shutter between them and the chauffeur and communicated in Greek, she clasped her hands tightly together to conceal the fact that she couldn’t hold them steady.
Alexandros focussed bleak dark golden eyes on her. ‘What age are the twins?’
It dawned on her that he was finally listening to her. ‘Nearly ten months old.’
The improbable began to look ever more possible to Alexandros. Yet on another level he could not believe that he could find himself in such a situation. On every instinctive level he resisted that belief. ‘And you are saying that your children are mine?’
There was no mistaking how appalled Alexandros Christakis was by the idea that she might just be telling him the truth after all, Katie registered with a sinking heart. His vibrant skin tone had paled, and the stunned light in his gorgeous dark eyes spoke for him. ‘What else do you think I’m doing here? Oh, right—you’re still hoping it’s a sting. Sorry, I’m not a con-artist. The twins are yours and there’s no mistake about that.’
‘I will insist on DNA tests,’ Alexandros asserted.
Katie veiled her eyes, angrily reeling from that further insult as though he had struck her. How dared he? He was the only lover she had ever had, even if he had chosen not to acknowledge the fact. The harsh bite of hurt and rejection lurked behind her annoyance, but she stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. Never once since he’d walked away from her had she allowed herself to wallow in the pain of that loss.
Yet what more had she expected from Alexandros Christakis today? she asked herself unhappily. Had she dreamt of a welcome mat and immediate acceptance of her announcement? From a guy who had ditched her while carefully retaining his anonymity? A guy who had patently never thought about her again since then? Of course he wasn’t pleased, and he would never be pleased. Of course he was still hoping that there was some mistake or that she was a lying schemer.
After all, Alexandros Christakis had no feelings for her. She had been a casual sexual amusement when he’d been bored and at a loose end. Turning up again now as she had, looking scruffy and down on her luck, she was nothing but a source of embarrassment to a male of his sophistication and wealth. Add in her announcement about the twins, and she became the stuff of most single guys’ nightmares, she reflected painfully. He didn’t love her and he didn’t want to be with her, so what could fatherhood mean to him? Men only wanted a family with women they cared about. Alexandros wouldn’t want her children. Well, that was all right, she told herself doggedly. All she wanted and needed from him was financial help.
The limo came to a halt. In an abrupt movement that revealed his stress level, Alexandros broke free of his shield of reserve and closed a lean brown hand over hers. ‘If they are my children, I swear that I will support you in every way possible,’ he breathed in a driven undertone. ‘Give me your mobile number.’
‘I don’t have a phone.’
He dug a card out of his pocket, printed a number on it and extended it to her. ‘It’s my personal number.’
His personal number. Her eyes prickled and stung like mad. She wanted to scrunch the card up and throw it at him, because he had been so careful not to give her that number eighteen months earlier. Her throat was so thick with tears that she could hardly breathe, much less hurl the tart comment she wanted to fling. She had loved him so much. It had been a savage hurt when he’d rejected her, and to be forced back into his radius and made to feel as undesirable as the plague was salt in that wound.
Alexandros watched her cross the busy pavement. She moved with the sinuous grace and light step of a dancer. He tore his attention from her, refusing to acknowledge that reflection, and the door closed, leaving him alone with his bleak thoughts. If a man could be said to have ditched a woman with good intentions, he was that man. Now it seemed that although he owned the race in the cut-throat world of high finance, his private life was destined to be a disaster area. Once again he had screwed up. Once again he would have to pay the price. As she had paid it. Just what he needed, he reflected with a bitterness he could not suppress: a guilt trip that would last the rest of his life.
How likely was it that her children were his? He remembered Katie’s indiscreet, straight-from-the heart forthrightness. He had found her honesty such a novelty. There had been no half-truths and no evasions. Very refreshing—until she’d said those fatal words he could not stand to hear on another woman’s lips. I love you—that little phrase that Ianthe had made so much her own.
Why had he let Katie get out of the limo? Chances were she was telling the truth and he was the father of her twins. He suppressed a shudder. He knew exactly what was required of him. He knew he had absolutely no business thinking about himself or about how he felt. He had dug his own grave. He recalled that Katie didn’t even have a phone. He swore long and low under his breath. Perhaps she needed food more.
‘You have appointments, boss,’ Cyrus remarked in an apologetic tone.
Alexandros ignored that reminder. Acting purely on impulse, he went to Harrods and bought an enormous hamper, and the latest mobile phone in Katie’s favourite colour. His own out-of-character behaviour seriously spooked him. He called his lawyer. His lawyer called for legal reinforcements and urged crisis talks, DNA specialists and extreme prudence. Alexandros might still have acted on his gut instincts, had it not been for the timely reminder of the potential for a huge scandal. Personal visits and gifts, it was pointed out, would only reinforce any claims made against him, and add to the risk of sordid publicity.