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She was still staring at him as if he were mad. ‘But you’re a complete stranger! I only met you yesterday!’
And you are about as far removed from anyone I am likely to marry as it is possible to be!
That was the consciousness that was burning in her most fiercely, making her feel hot and cold at the same time, overriding all that he had been saying about the logic behind his insane idea!
Anatole gave a shrug. ‘All married couples were strangers once,’ he pointed out. There was still a sense of disbelief within him. Was he really saying this to the girl sitting beside him? Seriously talking about marrying her?
Yet the logic was irrefutable! It was the most effective way of achieving what had to be achieved—getting Marcos’s son out to Greece, to be raised as Timon’s heir.
‘Think about it,’ he urged. ‘I’ll give you time—obviously! —but I beg you to give it serious consideration.’
As he looked at her he thought, privately, that right now she couldn’t give serious consideration to anything short of a tornado heading for her—she was still staring at him totally blankly.
‘I can’t possibly marry you! It’s...it’s just the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard!’ Her voice was high-pitched with shock.
‘It isn’t absurd—’ he began.
‘Yes, it is! It’s completely absurd—and...and...’
She couldn’t go on, was bereft of speech, and he took ruthless advantage of her floundering.
‘The purpose of our marriage would be solely to ensure Georgy’s future,’ he said. ‘Once that has been achieved, then...’ he took a breath, never taking his eyes from her ‘...then there will be no need for it to exist.’
She blinked. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘This is what I envisage,’ Anatole explained. ‘Marriage between us will surely secure Georgy’s adoption—we are the closest living relatives he has—but once he has been adopted then there will be no compelling reason why we have to stay married. We can get divorced.’ His expression changed. ‘Provided Georgy continues to be raised in Greece.’
‘Why is that so important?’ she asked.
‘Timon will insist,’ he answered. He paused a moment. ‘Timon will make Georgy his heir. He will inherit the Petranakos Corporation when Timon dies—just as Marcos would have done, had he lived.’
Lyn frowned. ‘But you are his grandson too,’ she said. ‘Why won’t you inherit?’
Anatole gave a quick negating shake of his head. ‘I am Timon’s daughter’s son—I am not a Petranakos. I have my own inheritance from my late father and I do not,’ he emphasised, ‘seek Georgy’s. What I do seek—’ he took a scissoring breath ‘—are the powers required to run Petranakos until Georgy’s majority.’ His eyes rested on Lyn. ‘I do not need to tell you how very grave the economic situation is in Greece at the moment. Unemployment is rife and causing considerable distress. The situation at Petranakos is...difficult. And it has become more so since Timon’s illness. Worse, when Marcos was killed Timon decided to make a distant Petranakos cousin his heir—a man who, quite frankly, couldn’t run a bath, let alone a multi-million-euro business in a highly precarious economy! If he inherits,’ Anatole said flatly, ‘he’ll run it in to the ground and thousands will lose their jobs! I will not stand by and watch that happen!’
He took another breath and kept his eyes on Lyn, willing her to understand what was driving him. ‘I know exactly what I need to do to get it on track again and safeguard all the jobs it provides. But for that to happen Timon will insist that Georgy grows up in Greece.’
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