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'I am aware that this is a difficult time for you-'-' Cristos appeared to be picking his words with unusual care and she glanced up '-but decisions must be made and we need to be honest with each other.'
Betsy tensed. 'I don't want an abortion.'
'Is that what you thought I was asking?' His beautiful mouth quirked but his gaze was level. 'This is my child too. I was brought up to respect the ties of family beyond all others. This child will be my son or my daughter and the next generation in the Stephanides family. If you had wanted a termination, I would be trying to change your mind-'
'I don't think I can believe you when you say that,' Betsy muttered unhappily. 'What choice have you got?'
'There is always a choice. If I wanted nothing to do with this child, if I was prepared to walk away, I could make generous financial provision for you both. But I could not live with the option of never knowing my own flesh and blood,' Cristos confessed. 'My grandfather set me an example when my parents died.'
'How?' she whispered.
'When they died, Petros was about to embark on a fun-filled retirement and a second marriage with a much younger woman. 1 was eleven years old. For my benefit, Patras made sacrifices. He stayed at the helm of the Stephanides empire to conserve my inheritance. Even though he loved the woman, he gave her up because he knew that she wasn't stepmother material.'
Hurt tears prickled at the back of her nose. 'I really don't want to be your sacrifice, Cristos.'
'I'm not thinking about you… I'm thinking about our child,' Cristos pointed out drily. 'We're adults. We can sort ourselves out. This baby will only have us to depend on. I feel bound by my honor to offer our child a stable environment in which to live.'
'I don't drink or do drugs, so 1 don't believe that you need to speak as if I'm a totally unsuitable person to have the care of a child,' Betsy protested stiffly.
Cristos expelled his breath in an impatient hiss. 'You are determined to take offence. Can't you rise above your hostility and focus on the bigger picture? 1 didn't suggest that you would be an inadequate parent. But even you cannot deny that our child would benefit most from having two parents, who are married to each other.'
Her brow pleated in confusion. Her back was aching from the stress of standing rigid for so long. Surrendering to her discomfort, she sank down heavily on the sofa behind her. 'Run that by me again… married to each other?'
Brilliant dark eyes flashed gold over her. Cristos flung his arms wide in a volatile gesture of expressive frustration. 'Obviously we're going to have to get married!'
'Oh, no, we're not… go lay your sacrificial head on someone else's block!' Betsy advised, fighting to keep the lid on her absolute astonishment that he should even consider offering matrimony. 'I want to do the best I can for our baby as well, but wild horses wouldn't get me to the altar with a guy like you!'
'What do you mean… a guy like me?' Cristos demanded.
'You're engaged to another woman yet you've slept with me and you've asked me to be your mistress. With that evidence, I don't need to be bright to deduce that you would be the equivalent of the husband from hell!'
Outrage flamed through Cristos at that blunt response. 'I will be an excellent husband and father.' Betsy tilted up her chin. 'But you won't be my husband.'
In the silence that spread like an oil slick waiting on a torch to ignite, the manservant crept in to announce that lunch was being served.
'I'm not hungry,' Betsy said thinly.
Cristos seared her with one glance. 'But possibly the baby is, so you can make an effort.'
In a room across the hall, a polished mahogany table had been had with beautiful china. In any other mood, Betsy would have been impressed to death. However, she was still in too much shock from the revelation that Cristos was prepared to call off his engagement to do what had once been called, 'the decent thing' and give their child his name. Just as he had promised on the island, he was willing to support her through
. her pregnancy. _
'You must not judge me on the basis of my relationship with Petrina,' Cristos drawled with supreme cool. 'Naturally you don't understand the bond that I have with her and it is not necessary that you should.
Some matters are private and not on the table for discussion-'
'Which is a very long-winded and patronizing way of saying that you're the unfaithful type and not prepared to change,' Betsy filled in, her luscious pink mouth taking on a scornful curl.
Arrogant head high, lean, strong face hard, Cristos dealt her a steady appraisal that made her shift uneasily in her seat. 'I have asked you to marry me. Whatever else I may deserve, I don't. believe that is an excuse for you to insult me.'
Mortified color burned Betsy's skin. She felt like a child being rebuked for rudeness.
'I don't make idle promises. To the best of my ability, I would try to make our marriage work-'
'For the baby's sake,' she slotted in half under her breath, her throat aching.
'For all our sakes,' Cristos contradicted.
Mulling that over, striving to at least respect his good intentions even if she did not wish to be the charitable target of them, Betsy ate her fresh-fruit starter. 'Do you like children?'
'Very much… I may not have surviving siblings but I do have many cousins. Most of them have offspring.'
She had not been prepared for that wholehearted response. He liked kids. Then he would have expected to have children with Petrina Rhodias. Did he love Petrina? Love and fidelity did not always go hand in hand. Not everyone placed the same importance on physical fidelity. But Betsy placed huge importance on it. How could Petrina bear to know that Cristos slept with other women? Didn't she mind? Or didn’t she know? Did Petrina love Cristos so much that she was willing to share him? Her thoughts revolving in a mad, frantic whirl, Betsy drew in a slow steadying breath.
'Talk about what you're thinking… raise your concerns.' Cristos leant back in his armchair, his glass of wine cradled in one lean brown hand. His black hair gleaming in the light from the window, bold bronzed features intent, he looked incredibly handsome. He also looked every inch what he was, she conceded heavily. A Greek tycoon from a privileged world, an intelligent, cultured and sophisticated male. Yet in her opinion he was letting an old-fashioned sense of honor come between him and common sense.
'It wouldn't work,' she told him tightly. 'You and
I. We're chalk and cheese-' 'That's stimulating-'
'We fight all the time!'
His dark eyes glittered, his wide, sensual mouth curving to reveal a glimmer of even white teeth. 'And then we forget our differences in bed. We have passion. Respect it, pethi mou.'
'It would never be enough for either of us,' Betsy told him flatly, pain infiltrating her.
Would he ever recognize how lucky he was that she was turning him down? He drove her crazy but she loved him. It would be so easy to be selfish. And she was convinced that it would be selfish to let him marry her. If he cared for anyone, she was convinced it would be Petrina with whom he had so much more in common. Betsy was sure that he would be willing to help her financially. Just a little practical help would enable her to remain pretty much independent and he would be free to go on with his life and marry his beautiful heiress.
After all, Petrina was the innocent party, Betsy conceded guiltily. When she remembered the unhappiness that Rory's infidelity with Gemma had caused her personally, she knew that she could not do the same thing to another woman. Yes, maybe it would cost Cristos to have to live with the awareness that he had a child he did not see. But no compromise was perfect.
'You're not being honest with me.' Glittering dark eyes raked her pale, taut, guilty face with condemnation. 'You're in love with your sister's boyfriend and their relationship is on the rocks. I think you're hoping to get him back-'
'That's absolute nonsense!' Betsy was seriously affronted that he could deem her capable of such calculating and low behavior.
'I doubt very much that he will want you with my child inside you and with me very much on the scene,' Cristos forecast with burning derision.
Thrusting back her chair in a temper, Betsy threw herself upright. Without warning she was assailed by a powerful wave of giddiness and nausea. Swaying, she had time only to utter a faint moan of protest before she folded down into the claustrophobic darkness of a faint.
'Lie still… ' Cristo! urged when she began to regain consciousness.
For once she did not argue. She still felt sick. It was bad enough having fainted but there were even more embarrassing scenarios. She concentrated on controlling the nausea and kept her eyes closed. Cristos was talking to someone in low, urgent tones. She heard hitn replace a phone and she breathed in slowly to try and ward off the lingering sensation of being light headed.
