Ruthless Revenge: Sinful Seduction. Кейт Хьюит
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wonder that I charmed you at all,’ Alekos snapped. ‘Or did you set out to be charmed, even seduced?’
Iolanthe shook her head slowly, confusion visible in her silvery eyes. ‘Why would I do that?’
‘I have no idea. Perhaps you wanted to frame me, or humiliate your father—’
‘What—?’
‘I know he kept you locked away, on leading strings. Was sleeping with me your childish way of getting back at him?’ He shrugged, not caring about her answer. Not wanting to care. ‘In any case I have learned not to trust anyone in your forsaken family.’ He turned away abruptly, not wanting to say more. He wasn’t going to whinge to Iolanthe about how her father had welcomed him into the Petra Innovation fold before stealing his idea fourteen years ago, leaving him desolate in so many ways. Grieving the loss of his livelihood, the loss of the friendship of a man he’d trusted. Most likely she wouldn’t believe him anyway, and, in any case, he’d had his revenge already. It just didn’t feel as sweet as he’d anticipated.
‘Will you require a paternity test?’ Iolanthe asked after a moment. She sounded tired, as if the fight had left her. Alekos turned around, noticing the way her slender shoulders sagged. She looked as if a breath would blow her over. Yet even as weary as she obviously was, she was still lovely. She wore a navy sheath dress that emphasised her willowy figure. She’d pulled her hair back with a clip, and a few inky tendrils curled about her heart-shaped face.
‘Of course I will,’ Alekos returned. Again he was struck by how unfazed she was by the prospect. She seemed unnervingly certain...and there could only be one reason why.
‘And when you receive the result?’ Iolanthe asked. ‘Will you then keep from liquidating Petra Innovation?’
His mind scrambled to make sense of how quickly things had progressed. A son. He could not imagine it, could not conceive—
And yet Iolanthe had conceived—and had never told him. It was a deception that he could barely grasp the enormity of, worse than anything she might have done before.
‘I will not make any decisions until your son’s paternity is known for certain.’
‘Fine. It should only take a few days. But in the meantime, promise me you won’t do anything to dispose of Petra Innovation.’
Alekos opened his mouth to retort that he would make no promises whatsoever, but then he stopped. If Niko was his son, he needed to completely rethink his plans. The realisation of how much could change left him scrambling for both words and thoughts. ‘Fine,’ he finally bit out.
Iolanthe nodded her acceptance. ‘Do you wish to make the arrangements for the test, or shall I?’
‘I’ll do it.’
‘Thank you.’ Iolanthe turned to go, and Alekos had the bizarre impulse to call out to her, make her stay. To say...what? He had no idea. There was nothing between them now...except perhaps, amazingly, a child.
* * *
‘I’m sorry, Iolanthe.’
Iolanthe closed her eyes, pressing her fingers to the lids as she battled a wave of fatigue. She felt too tired for shock or even sorrow; the bad news just seemed to keep on coming. ‘It’s all right, Antonis,’ she said. Some time over the last week, as the true and terrible state of Lukas’s affairs had come to light, she and her solicitor had progressed to first names. ‘It’s not your fault.’
‘He never told me...’
‘It’s all right.’
A few more pointless pleasantries and she hung up the phone, her mind spinning. Lukas had not only led the company into financial difficulty, but he’d done the same with his personal assets as well. Antonis had been looking into his client’s financial situation all week, and none of the news was good.
The savings account that had held her inheritance from her father was empty, their luxurious town house remortgaged, the private island Alekos had mocked given back to the bank. The only thing she had left was her forty per cent of Petra Innovation. But she still didn’t want to sell it.
Letting out a shuddering breath, she rose from her chair in the small morning room that she’d taken as a private parlour and crossed to the window that was open to the early summer’s night. The sultry air caressed her bare arms and she leaned her forehead against the shutter, wondering how Lukas could have behaved so foolishly. Left her with so little.
And what about Alekos? She hadn’t heard from him in four days, after he’d arranged a doctor to come and collect a swab from Niko’s cheek for the paternity test. Niko had been nonplussed, and Iolanthe had stammered some explanation about checking for diseases, treating it like some kind of vaccination. Thankfully Niko had just shrugged and gone back to his computer. But what about Alekos? He had to know by now that Niko was his son. Why hadn’t he contacted her?
Feeling cold despite the warm breeze, Iolanthe turned from the window. Perhaps she shouldn’t have told Alekos about Niko; she felt as if she’d opened up a Pandora’s Box of possibilities that she would never be able to control. She wished she knew what he intended, whether he’d reject Niko or be more involved in his life. Which possibility alarmed her more?
A light knock sounded on the door. ‘Iolanthe?’
‘Come in, Amara.’
The housekeeper opened the door, frowning at Iolanthe. ‘There is a man here to see you,’ Amara said. ‘He said his name is Alekos Demetriou. I’ve put him in the drawing room, but I can send him away...’
Iolanthe’s heart lurched, her hands going clammy. So Alekos had come after all...but for what purpose? ‘No, it’s all right. I’ll see him.’
Amara’s mouth tightened and she planted her hands on her ample hips. ‘This is the man who will destroy Kyrie Petrakis’s company?’
‘Liquidate it, yes. But I’m hoping I might have changed his mind.’
Amara looked doubtful. ‘Shall I serve tea?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’ She had no idea what Alekos intended to say, and she didn’t want to make him welcome until she did. ‘Thank you, Amara.’
The housekeeper withdrew and Iolanthe glanced in the mirror, ran a hand over her hair. She wasn’t in one of her few designer outfits to bolster her confidence; she’d been at home all day and wore jeans and a pale pink scalloped-edged T-shirt, with no make-up or jewellery. She wished she were dressed more professionally. She needed the armour.
She went downstairs, trying to quell the nerves that jangled at seeing Alekos again. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, and then stopped short at the sight of him.
Gone was the high-powered and hard-polished CEO in his three-thousand-euro suit. Instead Alekos, like her, wore jeans and a T-shirt, his hair mussed as if he’d raked a hand through it, his face haggard.
Carefully Iolanthe shut the door behind her. ‘I take it you received the results of the paternity test.’
‘Yes.’ Alekos scrubbed his hands through his hair, making it stand up on end even more. ‘Why didn’t you tell me, Iolanthe?’ he demanded in a raw voice. ‘Back then?’
Iolanthe blinked, startled by this new Alekos, one she’d never seen before. ‘I told you why not.’
‘But a child. A son.’ His voice, already ragged, broke on the word. ‘How could you keep such a thing from me?’
Guilt sliced through her at the sound of emotion in his voice. Over the years she hadn’t let herself think about just how much she’d been depriving Alekos of by not telling him about his son. She hadn’t let herself think of Alekos at all. ‘I was afraid,’ she said. ‘And very young—’
‘Neither is an excuse.’ Alekos cut across her, his voice turning hard and unforgiving. ‘You knew this would