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Apprehension snaked through her. Pretending to be dwelling in wedded bliss under Costas’s shrewd gaze was a challenge, but now there was the possibility of another audience?

Think of Hope House. Of every child you’ll be helping.

‘How long do you think we’ll be there?’

‘Prepare yourself for a few weeks, maybe a couple of months.’

She gasped. ‘Months?’

His gaze turned hard. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were thinking of reneging on our agreement.’

Alexis was aware she had no choice. Not if she wanted to continue providing for Hope House. She’d read through the contract, knew he had a certain leeway she couldn’t object to. And really, what would she be protesting against? There was no fear that this would evolve into anything beyond the clinical requirement Christos sought from her. And she...she’d given up on love or companionship long ago. It was why she’d been thankful for the black and white safety of a legal agreement. She had nothing to fear, least of all from her emotions. And yet...

She rose, ignoring the quivering in her belly as Christos watched her. ‘I... I need to think about it.’

For the longest time, he stared at her, one long finger caressing the rim of his crystal glass. Then, with the litheness of a predatory cat, he rose, sauntered to the door and held it open for her. And as she passed him, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, ‘Think about it if you insist. But know that anything but a yes will be unacceptable.’

CHAPTER FOUR

THE NEXT THREE days were hell on her nerves. She’d barely been able to sleep on Monday night. Or any night since. Christos’s announcement that they were leaving for Drakonisos on Friday had merely exacerbated the unnerving sensation in her stomach. He hadn’t pressed her for an answer, although announcing their impending departure suggested he fully expected her to fall in line.

That she needed to get her game face on sooner rather than later.

And it’s not like you haven’t had a dress rehearsal...

The snide inner voice made her cringe, and yet the truth blared starkly. She knew what unravelling in Christos’s arms felt like. And it wasn’t as if they’d need a full repeat performance of that episode to convince his grandfather and cousin, would they?

So why did her skin tighten with alarmed excitement each time she thought of it? Why did she hold her breath each time Christos spoke to her, anticipation beating wild wings in her stomach?

She really needed her head examined.

Hard on the heel of that thought, he materialised in front of her desk minutes before she planned to leave. As per usual this late in the day, his sleeves were folded back, displaying muscular, olive-skinned, hair-dusted forearms and those far too capable hands that occupied far too much of her attention.

To reverse the effect, she dragged her gaze upward, met steely grey eyes, which at that precise moment glinted with intense purpose.

‘There’s been a development. Demitri’s wife has left the family home and taken their son with her. Apparently, she’s moved in with her new lover in Athens.’ Again, the tight edge in his voice denoted an attachment to this case that tweaked her senses.

She rose and rounded her desk. ‘Is the boy okay?’

His nostrils flared as he straightened, and she saw the tension riding his shoulders. ‘No, he’s not. How can he be? He’s already called Demitri several times, begging to come home.’

Distress slashed through her, thankfully banking her chaotic nerves from before. ‘Is there anything we can do?’

His jaw clenched for a moment before he shook his head. ‘I’ve already instructed the partners in Athens to issue an injunction. But at the very least, the child will have to remain with his mother until after the weekend.’

The observation didn’t please him one iota. And Alexis wasn’t sure if his displeasure triggered something inside her. Before she could think better of it, she laid a hand on his arm. ‘She’s his mother. Surely she won’t let any harm come to him?’

His muscles tightened beneath her hold, his eyes turning stormy as they narrowed on her. ‘Her negligence where her child’s concerned is well-documented. It’s imperative that he’s removed from her influence sooner rather than later.’

‘This case means more to you than you’re letting on, doesn’t it?’ she ventured, recalling their talk on Monday night. As much as he tried to remain aloof, Christos cared.

His gaze dropped to the hand on his arm, a peculiar expression flitting across his face before he answered. ‘He’s my godson.’

That was news to her, but she couldn’t help probe deeper. ‘Is that all?’

For the longest time she thought he wouldn’t reply. He captured her hand, disengaged it from his arm but didn’t release it. He held her wrist, his expression almost bleak, but still hard and unforgiving. ‘I despise children being used as pawns when their parents decide they no longer wish to be together. Inevitably, it’s the child that gets the raw end of the deal.’

Maybe it was the warm hold on her that weakened her resistance, but she found herself confessing. ‘I know how that feels,’ she muttered, then immediately wanted to take the words back.

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