When Christakos Meets His Match

CHAPTER EIGHT


THAT NIGHT WHEN Sidonie left the Moroccan restaurant she felt so weary she could have cried. It wasn’t helped by the state of agitation she’d been in all day after seeing Alexio. She’d kept expecting him to pop up out of nowhere again and she couldn’t forget how he’d looked so drawn. Intense. He hadn’t looked like the carefree playboy she remembered.

Still... She firmed her mouth. She’d done the right thing by sending him away. He had no right to come barging into her life again just because he wanted to solve the riddle of the mysterious uncashed cheque.

She would never forgive him for delving into her private life, seeking out her most painful memory and then throwing it in her face as an accusation. He hadn’t been remotely interested in listening to her protest her innocence because he’d been all too ready to believe she was just as guilty as her mother. Although Sidonie winced slightly when she thought of the misfortune of him hearing that phone call when he had.

As Sidonie approached Tante Josephine’s apartment she saw a familiar low-slung vehicle parked outside. Clearly out of place in this run-down area of Paris.


Her heart thumped erratically. The car was empty. Sidonie looked up and could see the first-floor apartment’s lights blazing. Tante Josephine was usually in bed by now. Sidonie had a horrific image of her beloved Jojo being confronted by a tall, dark, intimidating Alexio and stumbled in her haste to get in.

When she almost fell in the front door she saw an idyllic scene of domesticity. Her Tante Josephine was perched on the edge of a chair, holding a cup of tea, and Alexio was seated opposite her on the couch, drinking a cup of coffee.

Tante Josephine put down her cup and stood up, her small matronly bosom quivering with obvious excitement. Her cheeks were bright pink. Sidonie could have rolled her eyes in disgust. The Alexio charm offensive had struck again.

Her aunt took her hands as she came in and Sidonie shot an accusing look at Alexio, whose face was unreadable. But something in his eyes made her heart jump. It was dark. Hard. As it had been on that day.

‘Oh, Sidonie, your friend called by earlier. I told him he could wait here for you and we’ve been having the most pleasant chat.’

Alexio stood up then and made the small apartment laughably smaller. He looked pointedly at her belly and said, in perfect accentless French, ‘I believe congratulations are in order?’

Sidonie went cold. No. Her aunt couldn’t have... But she was notoriously indiscreet—especially with strangers...

Sidonie looked at her with horrified eyes but Tante Josephine, having the nous to suspect that something had just gone very wrong, fluttered nervously and said, ‘Well, it’s past my bedtime. I’ll leave you young people to catch up.’

And then she was gone, leaving Sidonie facing her nemesis. The air was thick with tension.

Sidonie lifted her chin and waited. It didn’t take long.

‘You’re pregnant?’

She tried not to be intimidated by the murderous look on Alexio’s face. She’d never allowed herself the indulgence of daydreaming about this scenario, but for a man who didn’t even want a relationship, this was pretty close to what she might have imagined.

‘Yes,’ she confirmed starkly, reluctantly. ‘I’m pregnant.’

Alexio went pale under his olive skin. His voice sounded rough. ‘Whose is it?’

Sidonie gaped at him. She’d also never envisaged that he would doubt the baby was his. She started to speak but a flash of anger rendered her speechless again. Incensed, she stalked over to him and planted her hands on her hips, looked up into that remote hard-boned face.

‘Well,’ she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, ‘I did have a threesome shortly after you cast me out of your life like a piece of unwanted luggage, so it could be Tom, Dick or Harry’s baby. But we won’t know until it’s born and we can see who she or he looks like.’ She was breathing hard.

Alexio just looked at her.

Growing even more incensed, Sidonie stabbed at his chest with her finger and tried to ignore how hard it felt.

‘It’s yours, you arrogant jerk,’ she hissed, mindful of Tante Josephine. ‘Cold-bloodedly seducing another billionaire hasn’t exactly been high on my priority list lately.’

* * *

Alexio looked down into that furious face and felt numb. He welcomed it. His solicitor had failed to mention the very poignant fact that Sidonie’s aunt had mild mental health issues.

And now...now the baby. His baby. Ever since Tante Josephine had excitedly informed him that Sidonie was expecting a baby, Alexio had felt as if he’d swallowed nails.

At first he’d told himself it couldn’t possibly be his: they’d used protection every time. He’d been fanatical about it. Except for when they’d come home from the club and made love in the car, unable even to walk the few steps into the villa. That night was almost sixteen weeks ago now. Sixteen weeks of living in a blur. And now suddenly everything was in focus again.

Disgust at the memory of his lack of control that night had curdled his insides as Sidonie’s aunt had chattered on, blithely unaware of the bomb she’d dropped. And then Sidonie had come in, looking panicked. Guilty.

The knowledge that she was telling the truth sank into him like a stone, casting huge ripples outward. He wanted to walk out through the door and keep walking. The sum of all his fears was manifesting itself right now in this room. He wasn’t anywhere near ready to contemplate bringing a child into the world. Not after the childhood he’d endured.

A child had perhaps existed in his future life—far in the distant future—along with his perfect blonde wife. He had vowed long ago to make sure that no child of his would see the ugly reality of marriage, because any union     he would have would be a union     of respect and affection—not one punctuated by cold silences, bitter rows, possessive jealousy and violence.

‘Well?’ Sidonie demanded, hands on hips. ‘Aren’t you going to say something?’

Alexio’s gaze narrowed on her and he realised he wanted to say plenty—but most of it involved his mouth being on Sidonie’s. And then his gaze travelled down and he saw the small proud bump evident under her light jacket and the black clingy top she wore. Something within him seemed to break apart. Crumble.

Her hand went there automatically, as if to protect the child, and Alexio felt incensed at that. He thought of the recent revelation of the existence of his oldest half-brother and how his mother had kept him a dirty secret. After abandoning him. Would Sidonie have kept this child from him?

Finally he found his voice, and it was accusing. ‘Why didn’t you come to me?’

* * *

Sidonie let out a small mirthless laugh and backed away a step. Standing this close to Alexio was hazardous to her mental health and to her libido, which had decided to come out of its ice-like state.

She’d been dreadfully sick for the first trimester of her pregnancy but thankfully that had stopped and she was finally beginning to feel human again. She did not welcome this resurgence of a desire she had no control over.

Alexio was looking increasingly explosive as the news sank in and Sidonie felt a twinge of conscience. She recalled her own shock at finding out about the pregnancy, four weeks after she’d come back to Paris and with no sign of her period.

She crossed her arms tightly. ‘You really think I would come to you with this news after you accused me of being a gold-digger? After you judged and tried me—after you had me investigated like a common criminal?’

Alexio flushed. ‘Why did you agree with me, then, and let me believe that you set out to seduce me?’

Sidonie’s arms tightened. ‘I told you the truth, but you weren’t interested in listening. Would you have believed me if I’d insisted on protesting my innocence?’

Remembering the excoriating feeling of betrayal was acute. Sidonie’s emotions were rising and she knew she was too tired to hide them. She stood back and gestured to the door.

‘I’d like you to leave now, please. I have to be up early.’

Alexio’s eyes widened; his nostrils flared. He looked huge and intimidating, and Sidonie hated the impulse she had to run into his arms and beg him to hold her. She gritted her jaw and avoided his eyes.

Silkily he said, ‘You expect me to just walk away?’

Sidonie nodded. ‘Yes, please. We have nothing to discuss. You found me, I’m pregnant—end of story. You have nothing else to do here. Please go.’

Alexio’s voice was tight with anger. ‘We have plenty to discuss if I am your child’s father. And you still haven’t told me why you didn’t take the money.’

Sidonie rounded on him again, eyes blazing, two spots of pink in each cheek. ‘I didn’t take your damn money, Christakos, because I wasn’t interested in your money. I wasn’t then and I’m not now.’

Emotion was getting the better of Sidonie, rising, making her shake.

‘I will never forgive you for going behind my back and prying into my life. You had no right to judge me on the basis of something my mother did years ago. She paid that due, I paid that due, and so did my father. I want nothing to do with you and I wish I’d never laid eyes on you.’

She turned and went to the door, opened it.

Without looking at Alexio she said, ‘I have to be up in five hours. Get out or I’ll call the police and tell them you’re harassing me.’

Alexio made some sort of sound—half anger, half frustration. To Sidonie’s everlasting relief, though, he came to the door. She didn’t look at him.

He said, with deadly precision, ‘This isn’t over, Sidonie. We need to talk.’

‘Get out, Alexio.’ Sidonie’s voice had an edge of pleading to it that she hated. But finally he left.

* * *

For three days Sidonie had refused to talk to Alexio. She stonewalled him if he was waiting for her to come out of the hotel. She walked in the opposite direction if he was there when she emerged from the café. And at night she was tight-lipped if he offered her a lift for the short distance to the apartment after finishing her shift in the Moroccan restaurant.

Alexio seethed with frustration. He was getting her message loud and clear. She wanted nothing to do with him. She preferred working herself into a lather doing menial jobs rather than turn to him for help. But Alexio had had enough. He’d already set things in motion. Sidonie was pregnant with his child and that changed everything. As he’d watched her for the past three days the knowledge had sunk in more and more.


He needed to talk to her, though. And even though she looked half dead with exhaustion Alexio’s body burned for her. Even now, from his car, where he was parked outside the restaurant, he let his gaze rake her up and down, taking in the black skirt, sheer tights and black top. The apron that barely disguised the growing swell of her belly. His baby.

In the past few days he’d had time for the news of the baby to sink in, and much to his surprise he’d found himself not feeling as trapped as he might have expected. Instead he felt a fledgling sense of excitement, wonder.

He thought of his nephew Milo and wondered if he’d have a son too—precocious and cute like him. Or a daughter, like Sidonie, with golden hair? When he imagined that he felt a tightening sensation in his chest so strong he had to take deep breaths to ease it.

She was serving a big table of men now, and she plucked the pen out from where she’d stuck it into the bun on the top of her head. She looked tired and harassed. Pale.

Alexio saw one of the men put a fleshy hand on her arm and a red mist came over his vision. Before he’d even realised what he was doing he was out of the car and pushing open the door of the small tatty restaurant.

* * *

‘Sir,’ Sidonie gritted out, ‘please take your hand off me.’

‘Don’t tell me what to do. You’re serving me.’

Sidonie felt a frisson of fear cutting through her hazy exhaustion, but even that didn’t give her enough adrenalin to pull free. Just then a blast of warm evening air hit Sidonie’s back and she looked around automatically to see Alexio, bearing down on her, his face tight with anger, his eyes fixed on where the man still held her.

Her heart thumped unevenly. For three days he’d dogged her heels and she’d ignored him. She’d seen his car outside and had hated to admit to herself that a part of her liked knowing he was there. She’d told herself stoutly that she hoped he was bored to tears and that she’d irritate him so much that he’d leave and never come back.

Alexio was right behind her now, and treacherously she wanted to lean back, to sink against him. That kept her rigid, fighting the waves of weariness which seemed to be gathering force.

His voice came low and threatening over her head.

‘Let her go.’

The heavyset man was drunk and belligerent. He tightened his grip on Sidonie’s arm, making her gasp out loud. Alexio reached around her and prised the man’s fingers off her arm. He drew her back against him, his other hand going around her midriff, where her belly was round.

It was his touch that did it. It burned like a physical brand. It was too much. Alexio was turning her around now, looking down at her, asking something, but she couldn’t hear it because a white noise was making her head fuzzy.

As if standing apart from herself, observing, Sidonie saw herself looking utterly fragile and helpless, with Alexio’s hands huge on her arms, and she felt a moment of disgust at herself before everything went black.

* * *

Sidonie was in a dark, peaceful place with a soft regular beep-beep sound coming from somewhere nearby. Slowly, though, as her consciousness returned so did her memory, and she remembered looking up into Alexio’s face and seeing him frown.

Alexio.

The baby.

Tante Josephine.

Sidonie’s eyes opened and she winced at the bright light and the stark whiteness of the room. She went to move her arm and something pulled. She looked down to see a tube coming out of the back of her hand.

Her head felt slightly woolly. She noticed a movement out of the corner of her eye—something big—and then Alexio loomed into her vision. Tall and dark. His shirt open at the neck, looking crumpled. Stubble on his jaw.

The faint beep-beep sound got faster.

Automatically Sidonie’s free hand went to her midriff, where she felt the comforting swell of her baby. Even so, she looked at Alexio. ‘The baby?’

He looked grim. ‘The baby is fine.’

‘Tante Josephine?’

‘Is fine too. She’s been here all night. I sent her home a while ago.’

‘All night?’

‘You collapsed in the restaurant. I brought you straight to A and E in my car. You’ve been on a drip since you arrived and unconscious for nearly eight hours.’

‘Am I okay?’

Some of the obvious tension left Alexio’s jaw. ‘The doctor said you’re suffering from a mixture of exhaustion and stress and are generally run down.’

‘Oh.’

Alexio started to look grim again, making flutters erupt in Sidonie’s belly.

‘You’ve run yourself completely into the ground...’

Something dangerous welled up inside her at his obvious censure and she looked away, terrified of the way her throat was starting to hurt and of the emotion which wouldn’t go down.

In a voice that was far too high and tight she said, ‘Thank you for bringing me here. You can go now.’

Alexio merely walked around the bed until he was in her eyeline again and folded his arms. Succinctly he said, ‘No way.’

Just then the door opened and Sidonie turned her head to see a doctor and a nurse come in.

The doctor declared in French, ‘You’re awake! You gave us a bit of a scare, young lady...’

While he and the nurse did some tests and elaborated on what Alexio had told her Sidonie was busy trying to block out his presence in the room.

The doctor was soon sitting on the side of the bed and saying, ‘You’re due for your twenty-week scan in a few weeks, but after what’s happened I’d like to do a scan now, just so we can double-check everything is okay.’

He must have seen something on her face because he said quickly, ‘I’ve no reason not to believe everything is fine, but we’d like to be sure.’

Within a few minutes Sidonie was being wheeled in her bed to another part of the hospital. Alexio was by her side. She felt panicky. She was about to have a scan with Alexio looking on. She’d never envisaged this happening.

After they were wheeled into the room it all happened very fast. Sidonie’s belly was bared and they were smoothing cold gel over it. She felt acutely self-conscious all of a sudden—which was crazy considering Alexio had seen more of her naked body than she probably had herself.

When the doctor put the ultrasound device over her belly a rapid sound filled the room. The baby’s heartbeat. Immediately Sidonie’s focus went to the screen, which was showing a fuzzy grey image. Her heart thumped as emotion climbed upwards again—but this time it was a different kind of emotion.

After a few minutes the doctor smiled and said, ‘Everything looks absolutely normal. You have a fine, healthy baby, Sidonie—a little small, but developing well.’

Then he looked at her and at Alexio.

‘Would you like to know the sex?’ he asked. ‘It’s quite clear at the moment.’

Sidonie looked at Alexio, mortified that the doctor had assumed they were together. Even if Alexio was the father.

Alexio looked inscrutable and then said, ‘It’s up to you.’

Sidonie wrenched her gaze away from his with more effort than she liked and looked at the doctor again. She said hesitantly, ‘I...I think so.’ And then more firmly, as a sense of excitement took hold, ‘Yes. I’d like to know.’

The doctor beamed at them. ‘I’m very pleased to tell you you’re having a baby girl.’

Sidonie felt something joyous erupt in her chest and heard a slightly choked sound coming from beside her. She looked up to see Alexio’s eyes fixed on the screen, and there was an expression on his face that she’d never seen before. A kind of wonder.

Her belly swooped. She’d never allowed herself to imagine this kind of scenario. She’d expected to have the baby and then see how she felt about informing him, making sure she did it in such a way that he knew she wasn’t telling him in order to get his money.

The thought of being likened to her grasping mother again had made her feel sick. But now that had all been taken out of her hands and she had the very uncomfortable sensation that Alexio was about to get a lot more prominent in her life.

Especially when the doctor wiped the gel off her belly, rearranged her clothes and said, ‘We’ll keep you in for one more night to help you get your strength back, and then I’ve been assured that your partner here will be getting you the best care and attention until you’re back on your feet.’

Sidonie’s head swivelled from Alexio’s determined expression to the doctor’s equally stern-looking face. Her partner. The words sent more flutters into her belly. After three days of being followed, she knew the likelihood of shaking Alexio off when she was feeling weak and vulnerable was extremely unlikely.

She looked at Alexio and said, ‘I don’t have much choice, do I?’

‘No,’ he agreed equably.

And that was that.


A week later

‘You’ve done what?’ Sidonie’s mind was hot with rage and she felt her heart-rate zooming skyward, the flutters increasing in her belly. She even put a hand there unconsciously, barely noticing how Alexio’s eyes dropped to take in the movement. She was too incensed.

Alexio faced her across the expanse of the beautiful first-floor apartment living room, overlooking the Jardin du Luxembourg. He was dressed in a steel-grey shirt and black trousers and Sidonie didn’t like the way she was so aware of his physicality. The way she became even more aware of it each day as she grew stronger.


Alexio’s voice was low, deep, ‘I should have known Tante Josephine couldn’t keep it quiet. I asked her not to say anything until you’d had a few more days’ rest. But I didn’t want her to be worried with you out of work.’

Sidonie struggled to take this in—along with the reminder that Alexio and Tante Josephine seemed to have forged a mutual admiration society.

Sidonie had been in this apartment, which Alexio was renting, for almost a week now. A week of Alexio being cool and solicitous. The consummate host. Paying for a nurse to come every day to check on Sidonie. Taking her outside to the Jardin du Luxembourg across the road to get some air. He was seemingly unperturbed by her continued campaign of obdurate silence, which was more due to her wish to avoid this reckoning and his probing gaze than to anything else. Her searing anger had been proving hard to hang onto, as if merely being in his presence on a daily basis was wearing away at it.

Except now it was back, and Sidonie welcomed it.

Her aunt had just left, to be taken home by Alexio’s driver, but before she’d gone she’d spilled her secret.

Sidonie had marched straight into Alexio’s office without knocking and declared, ‘We need to talk.’

He’d looked up from his papers and sat back, arching a brow. ‘Now you’re ready to talk?’

Before she’d had time to regret her impetuous action Sidonie had turned on her heel and walked into the vast living room, not liking how intimate the office space had felt. She had also been very aware that his assistant, who was there every day, had left. Until now she’d been a master at staying out of Alexio’s way in the spacious apartment.

Sidonie crossed her arms over her chest and almost winced at how sensitive her breasts were. They had grown bigger. That awareness made her voice curt.

‘Answer my question.’

Alexio looked as immovable as a rock, tall and intimidating. At that very moment Sidonie had a vivid memory of lying naked beneath him, spreading her legs wide to accommodate his body, feeling the bold thrust of his arousal against her slick body. Her legs wobbled alarmingly but she held firm.

Thankfully Alexio spoke before Sidonie’s wayward memory could take over completely.

‘I have paid off all of the debts and ensured that your aunt’s mortgage has been paid in full.’

The sheer ease with which he’d been able to magic their debts away made her feel disorientated.

‘How dare you?’

Sidonie was trembling. But she was afraid it was more to do with his proximity than her anger.

Alexio’s eyes narrowed on her. ‘I dare because you are carrying my child and we are now family. Tante Josephine is as much my responsibility as you are—and the baby.’

Sidonie’s arms grew so tight she could feel her nails digging into her skin. She spoke from a deep well of hurt and rejection at this attempt to muscle into their lives. ‘We are not your responsibility. I never came to you. I want nothing from you. As soon as I’m feeling better I will go and find work again and pay you back what we owe.’

Alexio’s mouth went into a bitter line. ‘I think you’ve more than proved your point, Sid. You’d prefer to put our child’s health in jeopardy in order to save your pride.’

A lurch of hurt emotion rose up, strangling Sidonie for a moment. Then his words our child and Sid impacted.

When she’d gathered herself she said with quiet ferocity, ‘Do not call me that. My name is Sidonie. And the last thing I want to do is put my child in danger. I will keep working because, in case you’ve forgotten, you called me a hustler and I would prefer to work than to be accused of being that again.’

To her horror, Sidonie’s voice had cracked on the last words and she turned now, facing blindly away from Alexio, breathing harshly, emotion getting the better of her.

She heard him move behind her and said rawly, ‘Don’t come near me.’

He stopped. Tears stung at Sidonie’s eyes; her throat ached. She hated him. And she repeated this to herself as she struggled to regain her equilibrium.

His voice came from behind her, tight. ‘Sidonie, we need to talk about this... I recognise that I was too hasty that day. I didn’t give you a chance to explain.’

Sidonie let out a half-choked laugh at that understatement and said bitterly, ‘No, you’d obviously made up your mind and couldn’t wait to see the back of me.’

She heard him sigh. The shadows outside were lengthening into dusk. His voice was gruffer now. ‘The chef has left some food for us. Let’s eat and then we can talk...okay?’

Like a coward, she felt herself wanting to make up some excuse, say that she was too tired, but in truth she felt fine. She turned round, arms still crossed, and faced him. His eyes were intense and her skin prickled. She couldn’t keep putting off the conversation.

‘Okay, fine.’

Within minutes Alexio was serving them both a light chicken casserole in the dining room off the kitchen area. They ate in silence, but tension was mounting inside Sidonie as she tried to avoid looking at Alexio’s large hands and remembering how they’d felt on her skin.

Sitting here eating like this was bringing back memories of that first night in London. The sheer fizzing exhilaration of anticipation. And as if her body was some dumb appendage—an assortment of limbs that wasn’t attached to her brain—that same fizzing anticipation was rushing through her right now. Gathering force.

She was uncomfortably aware of every erogenous zone. Her breasts felt tender, sensitive. Swollen. She couldn’t stop imagining Alexio’s mouth lowering towards one thrusting, naked peak...

With a spurt of agitation, Sidonie let her knife drop with a clatter to the plate. Alexio looked up, that gaze narrowed on her flushed face.

Sidonie stood up, feeling feverish. ‘I’ve had enough. Food.’ God. She couldn’t even articulate a sentence.

Alexio looked as cool as a cucumber while Sidonie felt a bead of sweat trickle between her breasts.

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and said, ‘Coffee?’

Sidonie seized on the chance to escape that incisive gaze and nodded her head. ‘Some herbal tea, maybe...the housekeeper brought some today.’

Alexio got up and left the room. Cursing herself for this very unwelcome resurgence of desire, Sidonie went back into the drawing room to stand at the window. Praying for control. Praying that the butterflies in her belly would cease.

She put her hand on her belly and was half frowning at how strong the sensation was when she suddenly realised something. She gasped out loud.

A voice came from behind her, concerned. ‘What is it?’

Sidonie whirled around, alight with her discovery for a moment, forgetting everything else. ‘For a few days I’ve been feeling butterflies, but I thought it was—’

She stopped dead, because she’d been about to blurt out just your effect on me.

She blushed and said, ‘It’s the baby. I can feel the baby moving...’

Alexio was holding out a cup towards her and she grabbed it before she could see the effect of her words on his face.

She had a sudden image of one of his hands splayed across her belly and said quickly, ‘It’s not strong enough yet for anyone else to feel...’

Sidonie took the cup and moved away, taking a sip to hide her burning face.

* * *

Alexio gritted his jaw at how Sidonie moved so skittishly away from him, that golden hair looking so much shinier and thicker now, down and shielding her face from him. In the space of only a few days of rest and being well fed she was already looking so much better. The hollows of her cheeks were filling out.

He felt as if he was going to snap soon with the tension building inside him. With every second that passed he wanted to turn into a feral animal and strip Sidonie bare and take her, sating himself and drowning out the recriminatory voices in his head.

But he couldn’t. She was pregnant. And she hated his guts.

She looked incredibly young now, in leggings and a loose T-shirt. Of course she’d refused his offers to get her some clothes, so her Tante Josephine had brought her some.

When he could finally move his gaze up from those slim shapely legs and over her belly, hidden under the loose material, to her face, she was looking at him with that aquamarine gaze, something determined in their depths.

‘Why did you have me investigated?’

Alexio put down his coffee cup onto a nearby table. Sidonie had her hands wrapped tightly around her own mug.

He looked into her eyes. He owed her this.

‘Because what happened between us made me nervous. Because I’d never taken a woman to Santorini before. Because for my whole life I’ve been cynical and when I was with you I forgot to be. And it freaked me out enough to think that by investigating you I’d still be in control.’