Nine Months To Tame The Tycoon by Chantelle Shaw, Annie West

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CORADIDN’TWAITtill the morning. Strato emerged next day, red-eyed from too much brandy and lack of sleep, to be told she’d gone ashore the previous night.

Something grabbed at his vitals, twisting till pain screamed through him.

He told himself he was angry she’d run off in the night. Yet beneath the multiple layers of fury at her for lying, at himself for falling for those lies, and anguish at the terrible memories she’d stirred, was fear.

Fear that something bad might happen to her.

Logic said that she’d easily find accommodation in the little coastal town. Of course she was safe. This wasn’t a dangerous area and she was a capable woman. She was probably already crossing the island to catch the Athens ferry.

Yet anxiety lingered. She was alone and upset.

As if her story were true! Strato reminded himself Cora had spun a deceitful tale. Yet she’d been almost convincing with that stark look of dismay and dawning hurt.

He’d almost fallen for her game. Though clearly her story was impossible.

Strato hated being played for a sucker, especially as, for the first time he could recall, he’d come to like having a woman around. Cora wasn’t precisely restful, but with her he felt...

He ground his teeth at the way his thoughts kept straying to the good times they’d had. How could that be when those were obviously manufactured like her tale about a child?

That was what really undid him. He’d been lied to so often by scheming women, but for a second when she broke her news he’d actually imagined it might be real. Imagined he might be on the brink of fatherhood.

Him, a father. Carrying the legacy of his father before him.

Horror hurled him back in time to the atrocity he’d made it his life’s work to forget.

You’ll never forget, Doukas. The best you can do is pretend it never happened.

It had worked for twenty-five years.

Yet the one time he’d shut his eyes last night, nightmares of the past had taken him straight back to hell.

He spun around. He needed another drink. Something to deaden the hurt Cora had caused and stop the traumatic memories she’d unleashed.

Except how could he hide with the memory of Cora standing before him with those earnest, soulful eyes, telling him they were going to have a child?

Even so, he called Manoli to him and told him to go ashore and check that Cora had spent the night at one of the local hotels.

‘And if she didn’t?’ His assistant’s expression was stiff, a reminder that he, too, had liked Cora. From his withering stare Strato knew he blamed his boss for her sudden disappearance.

The downside of having an employee who was so close, as close as Strato got to a friend, was that he wasn’t afraid to share his opinions.

Now he thought about it, all the staff had liked her.

‘Then use your initiative, damn it! I need to know she’s safely on her way home.’ Even if he had no intention of seeing her again.

Slowly Manoli nodded. ‘And shall I give her a message if I find her...sir?’

The fake obsequiousness of that sir was a deliberate provocation from a man who’d used his first name for years.

‘Don’t push it, Manoli.’ Strato growled and headed for the bar. ‘I had my reasons for sending her away.’

Excellent reasons.

Yet that didn’t make him feel better. Even when Manoli reported that Cora had spent the night in a budget hotel then caught the first bus to the other side of the island to catch the Athens ferry, Strato couldn’t settle.

So, on the spur of the moment they sailed to Alexandria. Though once there Strato found he didn’t feel in the mood for Egypt’s attractions. Instead they went to Monte Carlo. It was only when they arrived that he recalled he was bored with the place. Spain was next but Strato couldn’t find the distraction he sought.

Work didn’t fulfil him. He found himself constantly distracted, even in high-level negotiations, till he forced himself to step back and delegate more, rather than undo the good work of others with rash decisions.

He was on the point of flying to Rarotonga, simply for a change of scenery, when he realised what he was doing.

Running away.

Looking for something to fill the void in his life left by Cora. Not that he was searching for another woman. Hell, no! But the ennui that had dogged him before he met her was back full force. The listless sense of pointlessness. Nothing, not even business, interested him. He couldn’t settle to anything.

Because even now you can’t quite believe she’s like the rest, can you, Doukas?

He gritted his teeth and took a long swallow of iced water, having decided to stop drinking alcohol when that did nothing to ease his mind or his mood.

Music reached him across the marina. Someone was having a party on one of the nearby superyachts. But the sound of laughter didn’t entice him.

He frowned into the twilight, trying to remember which port this was. There’d been so many in the last few weeks.

It didn’t matter. What mattered was that niggling sense of something left undone.

Strato prided himself on following his instincts. When he got the feeling something wasn’t right about a deal he delved deeper and always discovered a sound reason for that warning burr across his nape.

He felt it now but it had nothing to do with the company. It had to do with Cora.

He didn’t understand it. It was impossible that he’d got her pregnant. There was no way, no way at all. Not after a vasectomy and then condoms...the idea was laughable.

Yet that sixth sense bristled the hairs across his nape and all the way down his arms.

Finally Strato grabbed his phone. It took a while to get the person he wanted. It was out of business hours but his name made most things possible. Finally he put his question.

It was as he’d thought. Impossible that he’d impregnated Cora.

Well, the doctor amended, almost impossible. There were occasional, rare cases...

Strato’s mind blanked, the voice at the other end of the line blurring.

The music from across the marina became a buzz of white noise. The lights dimmed. There was a sound in Strato’s ears, a hammering that grew faster and louder, till he realised he’d forgotten to breathe and dragged a desperate breath into aching lungs. Immediately the thump of his pulse eased enough for him to hear the medico’s words.

‘So you’re saying...’ Strato found his voice ‘...that it’s extremely unlikely but you can’t rule out the possibility.’

‘Exactly.’

Strato braced himself against the deck’s railing with a trembling hand as regret washed through him. Regret at how he’d treated Cora.

And fear. Fear that the one thing he’d been determined to avoid might actually come to pass.

Cora was helping Doris tidy the kitchen after evening service when one of the part-time waitresses came in from the now-empty restaurant.

‘There’s someone to see you, Cora.’ Her breathless voice made Cora look up from the plates she was stacking.

‘Who is it?’ Clearly someone interesting, given the gleam in her dark eyes.

‘A man. And what a man.’ She shook her hand as if it burned. ‘A tall, handsome stranger. And that sexy voice!’ She gave a little shiver.

Cora barely noticed because she was too busy staring at the empty doorway behind the woman, heart in mouth as she imagined who could have caused such a reaction.

The answer was obvious. Strato.

But that was impossible. He’d washed his hands of her. He’d all but tossed her off his yacht, ordering her out of his sight.

The memory stirred indignation as well as hurt. Cora’s shoulders tightened and her hands clenched. He might be rich but he had no right to treat her that way.

For the first time in her pregnancy she felt nauseous.

Could it be Strato? Who else could cause such a stir?

‘Well...’ Doris watched her from shrewd eyes ‘...aren’t you going to go and see who it is?’

Cora was tempted to say no, she wasn’t.

She didn’t want to talk to Strato ever again.

Who are you kidding? You might be fuming with anger, but you’ve got unfinished business with him. Despite everything, you want to see him, don’t you?

Actually, she wanted to punch him and rant at him for what he’d done but part of her actually missed him. It had been almost impossible to settle in the weeks since she’d left him. She’d been so distracted she knew that only the fact the hotel was frantically busy had saved her from her father noticing. But Doris clearly sensed something was wrong.

‘Of course. Are you okay to finish up?’ She untied her apron and tossed it into the laundry basket.

‘Sure. We’re almost done. Don’t you want to tidy your hair?’

She did. She’d like to face this man looking poised and elegant, but she refused to let him think she’d put in a special effort for his sake. So she shook her head, wished the others goodnight and marched out of the kitchen and into the restaurant. It was empty so she went out onto the terrace.

Most of the lights were off, leaving the illumination from a single rope of fairy lights strung along the edge of the vine-laden trellis. In the distance the lights of the village spilled across the bay’s still waters and out at the point she picked out a large vessel.

‘Hello, Cora.’

It was him!

She swallowed, hating the way her throat constricted with emotion.

Cora turned and there he was, tall and still, hands thrust in his trouser pockets. Her gaze tracked his wide shoulders and firm chin. His mouth set hard and tight, the frown furrowing his brow.

If she’d had any thought that he was happy to be here she could forget it. He looked anything but.

Cora folded her arms. ‘Why are you here?’ Her tone was sharp. Good, she didn’t want him realising how conflicted she felt.

‘To talk. To apologise.’

Her heart skipped a beat, yet nothing in his voice indicated he wanted to be here. So much for her fantasy of him begging her forgiveness because he realised how much she meant to him.

She drew herself up sharply. ‘Not here.’ With the hotel full, they could be overheard by anyone in the floors above. Not looking at him, she strode across the terrace, out past the tamarisks towards the water.

Strato fell into step beside her as she followed the path away from the harbour, towards the deserted promontory, bright moonlight illuminating the way. Cora tried not to notice how familiar it felt, walking beside him, his tantalising scent teasing her.

‘You left your visit very late. I’m about to go to bed.’ Instantly she regretted the words, thinking of all those evenings that had ended with them together in bed, lost to everything but the delight they’d shared. How she’d felt cherished.

Until he’d brutally rejected her, calling her a liar and worse.

‘I just arrived and came straight to see you.’

‘If you expect me to be impressed, I’m not.’ She drew a breath, trying to slow her racing heartbeat. ‘Just say what you came to say.’

Silence followed her words.

Had he expected a warmer welcome?

Her mouth twisted as she thought of her anguish because the man she’d fallen in love with despised her. He hadn’t even considered the possibility she told the truth.

‘I’m sorry, Cora. I shouldn’t have ordered you off the yacht like that.’

To her amazement, Strato sounded as if he really meant it. As if, like she, he was stressed and worried.

Her step faltered and she forced herself to look at the sea rather than at him. They’d stopped near a stand of dark trees that hid them from the hotel. All was silent except for the soft shush of the water and, floating across the bay, the faint sound of music.

‘Really? You left it a long time to apologise.’

The first week she’d been on tenterhooks, hoping he’d contact her. But he’d meant every cutting word about her lying and trying to snare him.

As if anyone could snare this man who didn’t trust!

‘I was utterly convinced I couldn’t father a child.’

‘What changed?’

In her peripheral vision she saw him raise his arm to rub the back of his neck. ‘I got medical advice. It’s rare but occasionally a vasectomy isn’t successful.’

He paused and she said nothing. After all, she already knew he’d fathered her child. She’d had weeks to convince herself it was as well he wanted nothing to do with her baby. She’d bring it up herself, here on her island, where it would be loved and cared for.

‘And?’

‘And I had a check-up. It turns out that mine is one of those rare cases.’ His tone was so sombre it raised the hair on her arms and across her neck. ‘There’s an outside chance I could father a child.’

Cora felt like shouting it wasn’t a chance. It was a reality. One she lived with every day, as she fought to acclimatise to the fact she was pregnant. Early next year she’d be a mother.

She’d alternated between fear and excitement. She knew nothing about babies and this was going to affect her plans to return to marine biology. But her father and Doris would stand by her when she told them. Her child would have a stable, loving home, even without its father on the scene.

‘You don’t say anything.’

She swung around. ‘What do you want me to say, Strato? You’re not telling me anything I don’t know. I’m the one whose whole life has changed because I’m carrying your child.’ Her index finger drilled hard against his breastbone.

Before she could pull back he covered her hand with his. Cora was shocked at how warm and familiar it felt. Shocked at how something in her eased at his touch. How much she wanted from him, even now.

The realisation made her yank her hand free and step back. This man destroyed her in so many ways.

Pain engulfed her. She’d fallen for Strato, believing him to be something he wasn’t. Which confirmed her appalling taste in men. Twice she’d made a terrible mistake, gulled into believing someone selfish and over-privileged might care about her.

She tilted her chin to meet his stare. ‘You’ve said you’re sorry. Now what?’ His apology didn’t change anything fundamental. ‘I notice you admit you could be the father, not that you are.’

Strato lifted his shoulders. ‘There’s a big difference between the two.’

Cora’s hands jammed on her hips. ‘You really are some piece of work, Strato. You come all this way and admit you overreacted but still you don’t believe me.’ She dragged in a rough breath, made difficult by the way her lungs cramped, pain shooting behind her ribs. ‘It’s as if you want to believe I’m lying.’

To her surprise, he shifted, his gaze leaving hers.

She was right! He’d prefer to believe she was a gold-digger. The realisation loosened her knees and she had to concentrate on staying upright.

‘The one thing in this world that I want to avoid is becoming a father.’ His deep voice was rough with what sounded like genuine emotion.

Why was that so important to him? She’d pondered that from every angle and had no answer.

‘What are you after? A paternity test? You’re trying to prove, even now, that the baby isn’t yours?’

As soon as she said it she realised she’d hit the nail on the head. It was there in his stillness, that searching scrutiny so intense that she felt it even in the silver wash of moonlight.

‘Is it so unreasonable?’ He spread his hands palm up. ‘The odds are against it, since I used a condom every time. And I’ve already had two women claim to be pregnant with my child.’

But I’m not like them!

Cora wanted to shriek the words, barely managing to hold them back.

‘I see.’ It took everything she had to keep her hands on her hips rather than wrapping her arms defensively around herself.

He cared so little for her that he wanted her to be a liar, so he could walk back to his hedonistic life without a backward glance. Her baby deserved better than this man as its father.

‘And if I refuse?’

‘Why would you refuse the chance to prove I’m the father? There’s no risk to the child. All it takes is a blood test from you. And if I am the father...’ he paused and she watched him breathe deep as if collecting himself ‘...then I’ll provide support.’

‘Money, you mean.’ Because clearly he wouldn’t be a real father, bonding with their baby and being there through thick and thin.

The fight went out of her. Cora’s shoulders slumped as exhaustion hit. She’d known they had no future, yet she’d hoped. Now she saw how futile those hopes were.

She shook her head, about to turn away, then stopped.

Was that the responsible thing to do? She remembered how close they’d come to losing the family business, how tenuous her scientific career would be once she took more time off to have a child. What if there was another downturn and they lost the hotel? Sometime in the future her child might need financial help from its father.

So she made herself ask about the paternity test.

Unsurprisingly Strato had someone on his yacht who could visit the next day to take a blood sample then return to Athens to have the results processed.

For what felt like a full minute she hesitated, fighting outrage. Finally she nodded. ‘I’ll do it. But just send the doctor. I don’t want to see you.’

She’d prove this baby was Strato’s in case their child ever needed his support, but then she’d cut him from her life. He didn’t want her and didn’t want to be a father. Well, that was fine with her.

It had to be fine. For she had no choice in the matter.

Cora spun on her heel and marched, alone, along the well-trodden path home. She ignored the wetness trailing down her cheeks and the terrible pain inside as if her heart had cracked in two.