Demanding His Secret Son. Louise Fuller
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past four years. Work—in particular the expansion of his empire, and more recently his upcoming flotation on the stock exchange—had taken up so much of his time and energy. On those occasions when he’d needed a ‘plus-one’, he been careful to keep her at a distance.
Clearly Teddie had found him far easier to replace.
His eyes narrowed. ‘I mean, it’s just what you do, isn’t it, Teddie? That’s your real act! Not all this nonsense.’ He held up the box of cards. ‘You set it all up.’ Set me up, he thought savagely. ‘Then take what you want and move on.’
‘If you’re talking about our marriage, I had plenty of reasons to leave. And I didn’t take anything.’
She felt a sudden sharp pang of guilt as she thought of her son—their son—but then she repeated his sneering reference to her work as ‘nonsense’ inside her head, and pushed her guilt aside.
Glaring at him, she shook her head, whipping her dark hair like a horse swatting flies with its tail. ‘And not that it’s any of your business but there is no man in my life, and there’s certainly no daddy in George’s.’
The outrage in her voice sounded real, and he wanted to believe her for his pride’s sake, if nothing else. But, aside from the faint flush of colour creeping over her cheeks, she had already told so many different lies in such a short space of time that it was hard to believe anything she said. Clearly lying was second nature to her.
His heart was suddenly speeding and his skin felt cool and clammy with shock—not just at finding out he was a father, but at how ruthlessly Teddie had played him.
‘So let me get this clear,’ he said slowly. ‘At some unspecified point in the future you were planning on telling me about my son?’
Teddie hesitated. If only she could plead the Fifth Amendment but this was one question that required an answer. Actually, it required the truth.
‘I don’t know. Honestly, most days I’m just trying to deal with the day-to-day of work and being a mom to George.’
And grieving for the man I loved and lost.
Blocking off the memories of those terrible weeks and months after they’d split, she cleared her throat. ‘We were already divorced by the time I found out I was pregnant. We weren’t talking, and you weren’t even in the country.’
His eyes bored into eyes. ‘And so you just unilaterally decided to disappear into thin air with my child? He’s my son—not some prop in your magic show.’
Stung, and shocked by the level of emotion in his voice, she said defensively, ‘I know and I’m sorry.’
He swore under his breath. ‘Sorry is not enough, Teddie. I have a child, and I fully intend to get to know him.’
It wasn’t an outright threat, more a statement of intent, but she could see that his shock at discovering he was a father was fading and in its place was that familiar need to take control of the situation.
She felt a ripple of apprehension run down her backbone. Where did that leave her?
Last time she and Aristo had gone head to head she’d been cast out from his kingdom, her unimportance in his life no longer just a private fear but an actuality.
But four years ago she’d been young and in love, unsure of her place in the world. Now, though, she was a successful businesswoman and a hands-on single mother—and, most important of all, she understood what she’d been too naive and too dazzled to see four years ago.
Aristo had no capacity for or interest in emotional ties. She’d learned that first-hand over six agonising months spent watching his obsession with work consume their marriage and exclude her from his life.
She brought her eyes back to his. Yes, she should have told him the truth, but he’d given her no reason to do so—no reason other than biology for her to allow him into George’s life.
And now? Maybe if Aristo had been a different kind of man she would have caved, but she knew that no matter how insistent he was now about wanting to get to know their son, it was only a matter of time before he lost interest—like her own father had. But George would not grow up as she had, feeling as though he was at the bottom of his father’s agenda.
‘Our son is not some chess piece you can move about on a board to suit you, Aristo. He’s a person with feelings and needs—’
He cut her off. ‘Yes, he is, and he needs to see me—his father.’
Folding her arms, Teddie glared at him, anger leaping over her skin in pulses. ‘He needs consistency and security—not somebody offering him trips on a speedboat and then disappearing for days.’
He shook his head dismissively. ‘I’m standing right here, Teddie.’
‘For how long?’ she countered. ‘A day? A week? I mean, when exactly is your next business trip?’
His jaw tightened. ‘That is irrelevant.’
‘No, it’s not. I’m being realistic about your limitations.’
Looking away, she clenched her fists. And her limitations. Her life might be bereft of romance and passion, but it was peaceful. The thought of having Aristo flitting in and out of her and George’s life was just too unbearable to contemplate.
‘I have rights, Teddie,’ he said quietly, and something in his voice pulled her gaze back to his face. ‘I’m guessing you can live with ignoring that fact—you’ve managed it for four years. But George has rights too, and I’m wondering what’s going to happen when he realises that he has a father—a father you kept at arm’s length. Can you live with that?’
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