The Greek Tycoon's Tarnished Bride (Men of the Zodiac) (3 page)

It was starting to feel like there was a plan set out for her son that she had no part in, and she didn
’
t like the feeling at all. “Trustees? Like who?”

“The family court in Athens appointed the most appropriate people, and I am one of them. In fact, I have the privilege of being asked to take complete charge of all this on the others
’
behalf. I have their complete trust.”

So this impressive-looking Greek had more than just physical power. “But I
’
m his mother. Have I no say?”

He shook his head and looked away, his voice dropping to barely more than a whisper. “You were not married to Yannis, so I
’
m afraid not.”

“Marriage isn
’
t such a big deal these days, surely?”

“In Greece it is still a very big deal, especially when it comes to vast amounts of money. Tradition is strong, and there are many legal considerations, which brings me to a difficult point in all this.”

He suddenly looked gaunt, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Keep going,” she said firmly.

“For Nick to inherit, it is a condition that he must come to Greece to take his position in society. It has been decided that he should be educated and nurtured by his blood family.”

Erica jerked up her chin with incredulity. “I
’
m his blood family too, and I
’
m not moving to Greece just because you and a bunch of old-fashioned matriarchs say so.”

“Then that makes what I
’
m going to say a little easier, because right now it
’
s Nick that comes to Greece, not you. Unfortunately, you are not welcome to take a position in the Frangos hierarchy with him as things stand. You are entirely unsuitable. The trustees insist he must come with me alone to gain his inheritance. However…” His emerald eyes glittered dangerously. “There is one possible solution to that if you want be with Nick and still ensure he gets what is due to him before he
’
s an adult. I don
’
t like it, and you won
’
t like it, but it
’
s the least I can do for Yannis and his son.”

“Spit it out, Makris.”

“We marry.”

Chapter Two

“G
et married? Get
out
.” Her eyes blazed into him, sparking violently. “Get out and never come back.”

“I understand that you
’
re upset—”

“Upset? Are you for real? You must be a robot if you can
’
t see why I
’
m a whole load more than
upset
!”

He tipped his head to one side and frowned. “Upset and confused. And not thinking clearly.”

Her jaw stiffened. “I
’
m angry and insulted and not going to play ball with you and those hags back in Greece. As for the ridiculous suggestion that we should get married—”

“I realize it
’
s a drastic solution but there is no other way.”

“Because I
’
m entirely unsuitable to raise my own son? What the hell does that mean anyway,
entirely unsuitable?
”

“Look at yourself, at how you live, and what you do to earn your money.”

“I beg your pardon?” So, this was another person who felt quite comfortable looking down on her. Well, she was getting used to that and wasn
’
t afraid to bite back when she needed to. “
Nick doesn
’
t care. He has no idea and by the time he
’
s old enough to understand I won
’
t be doing what I am now. Things will be better, and besides, everything I do is perfectly legal. It
’
s just dancing for money.”

“Dancing without any clothes on. Dancing in a way that you wouldn
’
t want your child to see when he
’
s older.”

She tried not to shout at him with anger because his words cut deep. “
I don’
t ever take my underwear off, for what it
’
s worth. I
’
m not a stripper.”

His black eyebrows arched. “You might as well be naked for all the coverage that
underwear
gives you.”

Anger flared inside her, not just at his ridiculous prudery, but the fact that so many people would judge her this way. “Honestly, there are bare breasts all over the beaches of Europe, and much smaller G-strings than I wear. What
’
s the difference?”

“Those women don
’
t make money by being stared at by strangers.”

She let out a hollow laugh. “So that makes me a worse person? You have a very strange set of standards in that outdated head of yours.”

“Not me, Erica, the other trustees of your son
’
s inheritance. The Frangos women. They are old-fashioned, I agree, but they have centuries of tradition and heritage to protect. They have strict orthodox values: no sex outside marriage, marriage for life, subservience to husbands, and a healthy fear of God.”

The picture he had painted of the old crones was a cold and unfriendly one. She shuddered in the chill of the room. “They sound like the life and soul of the party.”

“They are ideal people to guard the interests of a small, but very wealthy, child in an uncertain world.”

“In your opinion. I think a mother
’
s love is the one thing a child needs. Nick has that already, and we will be better off financially soon.”

“And what will miraculously happen to change your fortune along the way?”

She nodded towards a pile of books on the windowsill. “I
’
m studying for professional qualifications.”

His lip curled. “In what? Advanced lap-dancing?”

“Psychology.” She shot him a defiant look. “It will secure me more respectable work even if it is in some sort of an office environment.”

He shook his head. “You
’
re dreaming. And all the time you do that Nick is growing, watching, and becoming a part of this life you lead. It can be so much better for him. Better tomorrow, not in a few years
’
time when you
’
ve sorted your life out. If in fact you ever do. It
’
s not fair to him. This isn
’
t about you or what you want.”

Her heart ached at the thought of her tiny son, who was still probably fast asleep down the road. “So you
’
d deny a child his mother?”

His brow pleated for a second with thought. “If it were for the greater good in the end, then yes, I would have to. He
’
s still tiny. He won
’
t remember.”

“You
’
re a monster. Get out. Get out or I
’
ll—”

“Cut me into ribbons? Shoot me? Stab me? You won
’
t be much of a mother if you
’
re in prison, and he
’
s put into care.” His face twisted into a grimace. “You need to start thinking rationally. I
’
m sure you manage to do that when you
’
re trying to get those rolled up bank notes stuffed into your bra.”

“It
’
s not how it looks at the club. I just
dance
.”

“Of course you do,” he said.

She needed to claw back some territory here. He was talking her into a corner, manipulating her words, making her feel cheap and dirty. “You don
’
t believe me, do you?”

“Why should I? The evidence is there for all to see.” He picked up a study text that was lying on the corner of an armchair, turned it over in his hands, and then let it drop back down. “You
’
ve been watched. In the eyes of Nick
’
s trustees you live an immoral life and because of that can never be considered a fit mother for such an important and vulnerable child. My concern is only for Nick Silver, Yannis Frangos
’
s son and heir.”

“Jeez, you
’
re not a man, you
’
re a machine.”

Tito looked around the tiny room as he spoke. “Maybe I am. A mechanical pump for a heart, molten lead in my veins. Sometimes it
’
s better to be rational and detached.”

“That must be why you believe I
’
ll hand my child over to you without a fight. You
’
re insane. You
’
ll be offering me money to hand him over next.”

His gaze darted back to her face “Would that be the answer? Because if that
’
s what it takes just name your price.”

“My son is not for sale and neither am I. He
’
s my only reason for living, and you
’
ll only get him over my dead body.”

“Very dramatic. Well done. But you won
’
t have to ‘hand him over
’
if you see sense and marry me. Being Mrs. Makris will make you sufficiently respectable in Cretan society. Hopefully.” He tipped his head to one side “At least you
’
re not ambivalent about your offspring. I thought you might be.”

She wanted him to go and go soon. “
Hoped
, don’
t you mean?”

“You must be incredibly selfish. What kind of a mother would deny her child the best kind of life? Food, warmth—”

She was getting really angry now. “You don
’
t know what you
’
re talking about. He has plenty of food and when he
’
s here it
’
s warm.”

His eyebrows lifted, and his expression changed to one that would go with suddenly finding out he
’
d won a nice prize. “So where is he now?”

“With a friend.”

“He sleeps apart from you every night while you work?”
He made a tutting sound.
“Some mother.”

How dare he speak to her like that!
“I only work nights occasionally, maybe once a fortnight. I don
’
t like it either, but he has a travel cot and his comfort toy. My friend is a registered childminder. I trust her implicitly, and he
’
s used to it. I
’
m his mother, I
know
.”

His expression was impassive. “I
’
m not convinced.”

“Like that bothers me?” She glared at him coldly. “It
’
s no different than what rich people do with their nannies and maternity nurses. I do believe even our royal family do it when the need arises!”

“However you look at it, Nick is spending a lot of time with strangers instead of his mother. Is that how it will be until you can dump him on a state school during the day? Or until you get state benefits to send him to a government nursery even earlier?”

“
I don’
t like claiming state handouts, but without them—”

“Exactly.”

“I
’
m providing for my child. We
’
re fine.
”

“But you could make his life so much better, can
’
t you see that? And your life so much easier.”
Tito sighed crossly.
“How long can you hold down a night job, study, and look after Nick properly? You
’
ll burn out. You are
not
giving him the best start in life.”

Erica sidled around the side of her small battered sofa, subconsciously trying to put a barrier between them. “I can
’
t give him up, he
’
s all I have. I
’
m his mother, and I love him.”

“So do his blood family in Greece.”

“He doesn
’
t even know them.”

His voice dropped an octave and softened. “Listen, if the UK government gets its claws into you, he
’
ll be sent to a foster family he doesn
’
t even know either if they find out how you
’
re living.”

“Rubbish. And he has family here,” she said defiantly. “My mother for one.”

“Your mother really
is
a whore.” He stalled for a second at the horror that was likely showing on her face. “Sorry to be so blunt, but you must be aware she does sexual favors for money. My people have been very thorough in investigating everything about you.”

She shook her head with disbelief. “Why are you being so cruel? I love my son, I would die for him. He
’
s healthy and happy.”

“And that
’
s great, but he
’
s a baby now. In the coming months and years he will need so much more. More than you can give.”

She wanted to throw something at the arrogant Greek
’
s head. “You have experience of this kind of thing?”

“Personal experience, yes. I wasn
’
t born into wealth.”

Her heart hammered painfully in her chest. “You could be anyone, a trafficker. How would I know anyway? You must think I
’
m stupid, desperate. I insist you leave.”

“I will go now. Here
’
s my card, check me out, contact the lawyers on the documents, Google everything if you have Internet access in this place.” He raked his fingers through the black silk of his hair. “Or let me know any other way I can prove who I am and that my intentions are genuine. Consult a lawyer or a private detective. I
’
ll pay for it. Oh, and there
’
s something I forgot about.” He took a black leather wallet out of his inside pocket. “A photograph of me and Yannis, more proof that I am who I say I am. And when I come back I
’
ll have my passport.”

Erica took the small piece of paper he offered her, careful not to let their fingers touch. “Yannis…yes, that
’
s him. Look, I need some time.”

“Of course. I
’
ll come back later when Nick is here.” He took a couple of strides towards the door. “In an hour? Two?”

“Yes, in two,” Erica mumbled, saying what he wanted to hear just to get rid of him. Desperate for him to leave, she turned the latch and pulled the door open.

He leaned down so that she could feel the warmth of him on her face. “But please don
’
t do anything stupid.”

She swallowed and felt dizzy through holding her breath. “Like what?”

His voice dropped to a murmur. “Like trying to disappear.”

Her fingers tightened on the door catch and the cold metal bit into her flesh. “What
’
s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you know. This is all in Nick
’
s best interests, and you
’
ll come to see that in the end. Whatever it takes.”

Erica slammed the door behind him, her breath now coming in harsh and rapid bursts. It had taken everything she had not to become hysterical in the face of the deadly gorgeous stranger who was intent on taking her child. He was ruthless and uncompromising like the devil himself, but now she felt close to emotional collapse. Every day since Nick had been born, a voice in the back of her mind taunted her about being a bad mother, about how she wasn
’
t good enough to look after a hamster let alone a baby on her own. Tito Makris had made it feel even more real. It was as if a chilling prophecy was about to be fulfilled. His condemnation of her hurt almost as much as the contempt her own mother had shown at how she
’
d allegedly screwed up her life by getting pregnant and risking her university degree to look after Nick. As if her mother were a shining paragon of virtue.

For a fleeting moment she wondered what life would be like now if her father was still alive and whether she would run to him for help. She shook the thought away almost immediately and slammed shut the iron gates in her heart against the pain of missing him so badly. Everything would be different if he were still alive. Different and better. Well, she
’
d just have to fight them all off, and she couldn
’
t do that at arm
’
s length. She needed to face it head on, deal with the horror of the situation before it took over, and she didn
’
t have the strength to fight it anymore.

Taking a deep breath, she wrenched open the front door and shouted after the tall, dark figure hunched against the torrential rain. “Makris!” He turned, his black hair whipped into unruly peaks by the wind, and stared back at her. His mouth was set in a grim line. “Come back. I want to talk about all this now rather than later.”