The Billionaire's Pregnant Mistress Page 10

  “I do not consider the conception of my child an unfortunate circumstance,” Dimitri replied in freezing tones. “I also fail to see why the fact your daughter modeled under the name of Xandra Fortune is such a tragedy for you. From what she has said, her work supported both you and your younger daughter for several years.”

  My, my. When Dimitri decided to defend someone, he came out with both guns blazing.

  “But she didn’t just model did she? She was your mistress, a tycoon’s plaything,” Cecelia said, quoting the article. “Now she is pregnant with your child. The Duprees have never had so much scandal attached to their name. What the nuns would think, I have no idea. Why, I’m terrified to send my monthly letter to Mother Superior for fear of letting something slip.”

  “Nuns?” Dimitri asked.

  “The convent, remember?” Alexandra whispered.

  “Ahh…those nuns.”

  Cecelia said, “Mother Superior didn’t approve of the Xandra Fortune debacle any more than I did.”

  The unfairness of her mother’s constant disapproval cracked something open in Alexandra. “My life as a model was hardly a debacle. Dimitri’s right. It kept you in designer dresses and Madeleine in school. If I hadn’t created Xandra Fortune, how would we all have lived? I can’t see you getting a job.”

  Her mother gasped.

  Someone knocked on the door. It turned out to be room service and Dimitri insisted Alexandra eat before the conversation was resumed. Her mother drank her tea with an expression of martyred stoicism.

  When they were done and Dimitri had called to have the dishes removed, he resumed his seat beside Alexandra. Putting an arm around her waist, he met her mother’s gaze. “Let me make a couple of things clear. One, I intend to marry your daughter. And two, it will not be some hole in the corner affair not befitting the bride of a Petronides.”

  He ignored both her and her mother’s outraged gasps and stood.

  “I’m glad you took the time to come by and see us,” he said, taking her mother’s arm and gently lifting her from the chair before he guided her to the door, “but as I’m sure you are aware, Alexandra and I have a great deal to do before the wedding. Perhaps we can get together this evening or tomorrow to discuss plans.”

  He continued talking as if he had both her and her mother’s complete cooperation as he led Cecelia from the suite.

  Dimitri called for his car and waited in the hotel lobby with Cecelia until it came. He shook his head watching Cecelia walk regally from the hotel. Running interference for Alexandra with her mother was going to take vigilance. Cecelia had tried to convince him again to consider a modest wedding by saying it would be cruel to Alexandra to make a media event of it when she had so obviously anticipated her wedding vows.

  The car had not arrived one moment too soon.

  Dimitri stepped into an empty elevator and pressed the button for his floor.

  Would Alexandra be ashamed to marry him while she was so visibly pregnant? He thought back to what he had learned of her past. She’d been educated by nuns. Hell, maybe she would be embarrassed by a big wedding.

  She had certainly been upset about the news clipping. He didn’t want her upset and the part he had played in the breaking of the news story troubled him. He’d seen one of the paparazzi that often followed him outside the restaurant where they had eaten lunch. He hadn’t said anything, had not sent his security man after the film—though as he’d learned in the past, that move was not always successful. His actions could be considered ruthless, but he thought of them as the acts of a desperate man.

  She had to marry him.

  For her own sake because she needed him.

  For the baby’s sake because he was a Petronides.

  For Dimitri’s sake because he needed her.

  And for the sake of a promise he had made to his grandfather, a second promise when the first had been nullified.

  He’d thought it would be easy once he found her. She’d obviously wanted marriage before she left Paris, but now she acted like the thought of it was worse than spending the rest of her life in Purgatory. No matter what she said to the contrary, it was obvious she now hated him. He mourned the warmth that used to shine from her eyes when she looked at him. The smile that had been just for him. Intimate. Special. He’d taken her for granted when he had her. He had ignored the underlying emotional commitment in their relationship.

  He’d believed they had no hope of a future.

  She’d been a career fashion model. It was lowering to admit, but he’d believed she had every intention of moving on when her career took off. He hadn’t known about her family, hadn’t realized she had no desire to be a supermodel. That ignorance had cost him three months of mental anguish wondering where she was and how she was faring with her pregnancy.

  He’d never once considered she might terminate it…even when he’d gone to the apartment in Paris a week after she left and found her message for him on the floor of the living room.

  She’d rejected everything he’d ever given her down to the sexy nightwear he’d bought her. His fists clenched at his sides when he thought of that neatly folded stack of silk and lace garments. He’d taken one look at the pregnancy test sitting on top and driven his fist through the wall. One look. That was all it had taken for him to realize she’d been telling him the truth. He hadn’t understood how it could be true, but he had known it was.

  He’d called the detective agency that very night, but it had still been too late. He’d lost her.

  He’d spent three months tormenting himself with if-only scenarios. If only he had been thinking more clearly when his grandfather delivered his ultimatum, but Dimitri had been badly shaken and had gone into damage control mode. He would do anything to save his grandfather and he had done, hurting both himself and Alexandra in the process.

  If only he had believed her about the baby from the beginning and told his grandfather then.

  If only he had come back to the apartment sooner, but he hadn’t been able to face its emptiness, the reality of what he had done to his woman. He hadn’t been able to stay in Athens either, not after the announcement of his marriage to Phoebe had been made.

  Everything had felt wrong about it. He’d seen the looks his brother gave Phoebe when he thought no one noticed. Dimitri could not miss the way Phoebe stood in fearful awe of him, but laughed in his brother’s company. But most importantly—the look on Alexandra’s face when he’d denied her haunted him.

  He deserved her hatred, but he couldn’t live with it. He had to convince her to marry him. He could not consider the alternative. She and the baby needed him even if she refused to admit it. Theos knew he needed her. Would she ever look at him with the warmth of affection in her beautiful eyes again?

  Alexandra had picked up the paper her mother left behind and was rereading the article about her and Dimitri when he returned.

  She looked up. “I can’t believe they said all this. It’s horrible. Conjecture about our relationship, your reasons for denying paternity. Where did all this come from?”

  Dimitri shrugged. “The story ran for weeks in France and Greece, even some London papers picked it up. The press release your agency sent out saying you had retired from modeling and wanted to live a more anonymous life was all the more scintillating when news of your possible pregnancy got out. I’m surprised you didn’t see any of the stories.”

  She’d avoided the European scandal rags after the announcement of his marriage to Phoebe. Alexandra hadn’t wanted to see any pictures of the couple together. And of course, the stories hadn’t made it to the States. They were about a French fashion model and a Greek tycoon, nothing of interest for American readers. At least not until the connection to her real identity was made.

  “How did they make the connection?” she wondered aloud.

  “I am, unfortunately, followed by a certain amount of paparazzi wherever I go. Once we were seen together, it was only a matter of time before one of them recognized y
ou.”

  “But no one else had,” she said helplessly.

  “I find that inexplicable.”

  A wavery smile tilted her lips. “You certainly weren’t fooled.”

  Remembered anger shimmered in his eyes. “No.”

  “You were so sure it was me and yet I must have looked very different to you,” she mused.

  “You are my woman. I would recognize you in the dark.”

  “You did,” she said, helplessly remembering the passion they’d shared the night before.

  His smile was predatory. “Yes.”

  “Sex isn’t everything,” she admonished him.

  “But it is a start, is it not, yineka mou?” He resumed his seat beside her and placed his hand against her protruding belly. “And we have this precious child we share as well.”

  If only she could believe him, but she didn’t trust him. Did he have an ulterior motive for the marriage? “You’re afraid I won’t give you access, aren’t you? You think you’ll have more say in our baby’s life if we’re married.”

  “I will, but that is not why I want to marry you.”

  “Then why?” she demanded.

  “You once said we had something special. Perhaps I want that back again.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible, Alexandra.”

  Believing he might come to love her was. “I don’t know,” she said, achingly aware her desires were at odds with her intellect. She wanted to marry him, but she was afraid doing so would only open her heart to more hurt.

  “Your mother will be devastated if you refuse me.”

  Alexandra knew that all too well. “My mother’s feelings do not dictate my life.”

  “You can say that after spending six years living a double life to protect her sensibilities?”

  “Living as Xandra Fortune was infinitely preferable to the prospect of living as Alexandra Petronides.” She didn’t know why she’d said it. To wound him as he had once wounded her? Regardless, guilt assailed her the second the words left her.

  His jaw tautened, his blue eyes flashing anger. “Think of our child. Life as a legitimate Petronides will be infinitely preferable to life as the bastard child of the black sheep of the Dupree family,” he said, throwing her words back at her.

  She flinched with the pain the words inflicted. “Don’t use that word!”

  His face registered regret and then determination. “I will never use it again in relation to our son, regardless of your decision, but I cannot say the same for others.”

  “I know.” She felt tears fill her eyes and she tried to blink them away.

  He cursed in Greek and pulled her against his chest. “Do not cry, pethi mou. I cannot stand it.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you weren’t around for the first month after I left Paris. I did nothing but cry,” she said, hiccupping with her swallowed tears.

  His arms tightened around her until she squeaked from the pressure. He loosened his grip immediately. “I did not intend to hurt you.”

  Was he talking about just now, or three months ago?

  She looked at him. “Tell me about your parents, Dimitri. You never have.”

  His sensual lips thinned.

  “How can you expect me to marry you when you won’t share your family with me? I’ve never even met your grandfather or your brother.”

  “I will invite my brother to the wedding, unfortunately Grandfather cannot travel yet. You will meet him when we go to Greece.”

  “What do you mean, go to Greece?”

  “It is where we will live.”

  “What if I want to live in New York?”

  “Do you?” he asked with more patience than she expected.

  She met his gaze and then looked away. “I don’t want to raise our son in a big city,” she admitted, knowing she was playing right into his hands.

  “This is good.” He gently tugged her face back around so she was caught in the compelling blue of his gaze. “The family home is on a small island off the coast near Athens. There is nothing on the island but the Petronides home and a fishing village. It will be a wonderful place for our son to grow up. I should know. I was raised there.”

  It sounded all too tempting.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “IF I marry you and you divorce me, you could keep my baby,” she said, expressing her deepest fear.

  He swore and stood. “You believe I would do this to you?”

  She wanted to deny it. He looked so angry. “I don’t know. I don’t trust my instincts where you are concerned anymore.”

  “Marriage is forever. I would not do this.” She could tell it infuriated him to have to say it. His pride was wounded and for some reason that made her feel bad. “This baby and the ones to come after will have both their mother and their father to raise them.”

  “You want more children?” The thought had never occurred to her.

  “Yes. Do not tell me you only want this baby?” The thought clearly horrified him.

  “No. I want at least two, but would really like four.”

  “Don’t you think you had better marry me beforehand?”

  “For the baby’s sake?” she asked, wishing it could be different.

  “For his sake yes, but also for your sake.”

  “You mean I won’t have to work to support us both if I marry you?”

  “You would not have to work regardless. From this point forward, you and the baby are my responsibility.”

  “Thank you.” She knew he meant what he said. It was written on the immovable features of his gorgeous face.

  “You will be happier married to me than as a single parent,” he asserted with inbred arrogance.

  “You think so?”

  “I know this.”

  “How can you be so certain?”

  “Whatever you need to make you happy, I will give it to you.”

  Everything but his love, she thought sadly. But she would have his passion. Last night had proven that. She would have his support. He’d given her a taste of it this morning with her mother and it had been sweet. She would have his respect. If he did not respect her, he wouldn’t be asking for marriage, she was sure of it.

  “It would certainly relieve my mother’s mind.”

  A calculating expression entered his eyes. “If you marry me, I will buy back the Dupree Mansion and staff it with servants for your mother’s lifetime.”

  The sheer generosity of the offer stunned her. She understood his willingness to provide for her and the baby, but to take on responsibility for her mother as well was excessive and very, very endearing.

  “Mama would love you forever.”

  “Yes.” He frowned. “She does not want a big wedding. She believes you would be embarrassed. Is she right?”

  “Embarrassed? To be marrying you?” she asked incredulously.

  “To be married publicly when you are so obviously enceinte.”

  “I’m not ashamed of my baby.” She wasn’t comfortable with the fact he’d been conceived in a relationship rather than a marriage, but her son was precious to her all the same.

  Dimitri’s expression lightened. “I am very proud that you carry my child, yineka mou.”

  Alexandra pictured a traditional wedding, she and Dimitri decked out in formal white, her veil and train brushing the floor at least three feet behind her.

  “Your eyes have gone soft and golden. Of what do you think, little one?”

  She felt herself blushing, but decided to tell him. “I know it sounds really naff, but I always wanted to wear a traditional white wedding dress with a long train and oodles of lace in my veil.” She sighed and touched her tummy. “But then I guess I would look pretty silly in white in my state.”

  He returned to the sofa and took her hand in his. “White is the sign of a pure heart. You would not look silly to me.”

  Her breath caught and she had to concentrate on getting her lungs to expand again. “I wouldn’t?”

&nb
sp; He leaned forward and she closed her eyes in preparation for his kiss. Why didn’t she have more self-control with him? She felt a touch so light it almost wasn’t there on both her eyelids, her cheeks and finally her lips. They parted of their own accord and the pressure increased.

  He ended the kiss scant seconds later, leaving her feeling dazed.

  That was nice.

  He laughed and she realized she’d spoken aloud.

  She smiled at him. “So you think I should wear white?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Does this mean you will marry me?”

  Had there ever really been any doubt? Because she didn’t want her pride stomped in the dust, she said, “It’s the best thing for the baby.”

  His tender expression turned to stone and he stood up quickly from the sofa. “There are plans to be made. I want to be married a week from today.”

  “So quickly? What about my dress, the church—”

  “I will take care of it.”

  She didn’t argue. She supposed a billionaire could pull together a wedding on nothing notice. Money talked, or so they said. “I’m picking out my own dress.”

  He shrugged. “As you like.”

  He turned toward the phone, all signs of his loverlike countenance gone.

  “Dimitri?”

  He pivoted to face her. “Yes?”

  “This is what you want?”

  He laughed harshly. “I am getting what I deserve and can expect nothing more.”

  “But I thought you wanted to get married.” Had she completely misread the situation? The one hope she clung to was the knowledge that he wanted her. Had last night satisfied that craving?

  “I do.” His eyes blazed certainty at her.

  “But you seem unhappy now that I’ve said yes.”