Chapter Four
Chapter Four
As that bombshell landed Alex stilled. The world skidded to a stop. Every muscle in his body tensed and his head spun. It was a good thing he was sitting down. Had he been standing he might well have keeled over.
But then, cold hard logic kicked in, scything through the shock, and told him no. Absolutely not. That didn’t make any sense at all. So what was going on? What was she up to?
Shifting in his chair to get his blood flowing again, he pulled himself together and focused on the facts, which rendered her claim a lie. ‘Is this some sort of a joke?’
Olympia’s eyebrows shot up. ‘A joke ?’ she said on a sharp intake of breath. ‘Why on earth would I joke about something like this?’
‘I have no idea,’ he said with the shrug of one shoulder. ‘To punish me for walking off that night in Switzerland? Because the papers need a story? For fun?’
‘Are you serious ?’
‘Deadly.’
‘I’m not that vindictive,’ she said tightly. ‘Nothing about any of this is fun or for a story. And it’s very much not a joke. I had an ultrasound this morning.’ She dug around in her bag for a moment and withdrew a small square of paper, which she thrust at him. ‘Here’s the photo. According to the doctor, I’m ten weeks along.’
He automatically took it and glanced down at the grainy black and white image below her name, which clearly showed a tiny human being floating in a circle of black. Which proved she was pregnant, but that was all.
‘Congratulations,’ he said, handing it back as if it were on fire. ‘But I’m not the father. I can’t be.’
‘You can and you are. Unfortunately. Not only do the dates fit, but you’re also the only person I’ve had sex with in over twelve months.’
‘Do you honestly expect me to believe that, with your past?’
In response to his cutting tone she flinched minutely, but he refused to allow her reaction anywhere near his conscience. She was a Stanhope and therefore not be trusted. ‘It’s the truth.’
Ha. ‘I used protection.’
‘Evidently incorrectly.’
No. That was a preposterous suggestion. He had over twenty years’ experience of practising safe sex and not once in that time had he been careless. Not once had there even been the hint of a scare. What Olympia was implying was unthinkable. ‘It’s impossible.’
‘Statistically, it’s not. Improbable, yes. Impossible? No.’
‘So I’m just supposed to accept what you say?’
‘Well, I was hoping you would. But I’m happy to arrange a paternity test if you wish.’
Feeling as though the walls were closing in on him, Alex didn’t know what he wished. He couldn’t think straight. He was finding it hard to breathe. There were spots in his vision. She was coolly pulverising every one of his objections, but he didn’t want to concede she had a point about the statistics. He didn’t want to acknowledge the growing feeling that she wasn’t lying.
Yet for how much longer could he continue to ignore the evidence? Her ice cool facade was cracking. She looked to be as thrown by this as he was. She was unnaturally still and her face was pale. And what possible ulterior motive could she have for pressing him to acknowledge the paternity of her child? She wouldn’t be after his money. She had plenty of her own.
So perhaps the unthinkable wasn’t all that unthinkable. He’d been so crazed with need that night he’d barely been able to recall his own name. His hands had been shaking. He might well have deployed less haste and more speed. Or maybe the condom had split. He’d climaxed so hard it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. All of which meant that he could be the father of this baby. And, more shockingly, if he was, then it was entirely his fault.
‘However, I’m not here to assign blame,’ she continued, her steady tone slicing through the storm swirling around his head and the nausea churning up his stomach. ‘What’s done is done, and thrashing out what went wrong seems pretty pointless. I realise it’s a shock—it was to me too—but you are the father of my child. I’m here because I thought you should know, and to find out how much you want to be involved.’
‘You’re keeping it?’
‘I am,’ she said with a decisive nod. ‘The circumstances could not be worse but I am. And what I’d like to know is, what do you want?’
Alex stared at her blankly. What sort of an idiotic question was that? He was still having trouble accepting the situation, despite the increasingly obvious truth of it, and he’d never felt so at sea. ‘How the hell do I know?’ he snapped, pushing back his chair and surging to his feet, overwhelmed by the need to move, to pace, to do something to ease the dawning realisation that, once again, life as he knew it was over. ‘I haven’t had any time to think about it.’
‘I’m happy to wait while you do.’
How long did she have?
He scrubbed his hands over his face as if trying to wake himself from a nightmare, and strode to the window through which there was a spectacular view of the Parthenon, not that he could focus on that right now.
Fatherhood wasn’t something he’d ever contemplated before. For one thing, he’d never met anyone who’d remotely tempted him to do so, and for another, the mere thought of marriage and family brought him out in hives. He’d witnessed how fragile relationships could be, the devastation they could cause when they broke down, and he had no wish to either experience the direct pain himself or inflict it on others.
Nor did he have any truck with love. The implosion of his parents’ marriage had taught him that the heart was fickle and not to be trusted. That handing responsibility for your own well-being and happiness to someone else to destroy was foolish beyond belief. It was best, he’d decided in the aftermath of that hideously acrimonious divorce, to avoid love and commitment at all costs, which was why he stuck to short-term, sedate, no-strings affairs that came to a mutually agreed end with no fuss and no drama.
What he’d done with Olympia had been anything but sedate, and she was drama personified. And it wasn’t over, because with the birth of this baby—which he knew deep down in his bones had to be his—they would be connected for ever. He’d be constantly reminded of the year he’d had to grow up fast. Its grandmother would be Selene Stanhope, the viper that two decades ago had slithered into his family’s nest and wrecked three lives. Leo—the best friend he’d brutally cut off out of a sense of self-preservation—would be its uncle. Of all the women he could accidentally get pregnant, Olympia had to be the absolute worst, not least because she drummed up in him the sort of uncontrollable, insatiable lust he despised.
And yet…
He couldn’t deny the flicker of primitive excitement leaping about in the pit of his stomach at the notion of another being in this world with half his DNA. He would no longer exist on his own. He would have something else to channel his energies into, not just work. His bloodline would continue, his life would have evolutionary purpose and, in a way, the family he’d lost would be replaced. Instead of dwelling on the past he’d have a reason to look to the future, which was a confusingly appealing prospect.
The last of his resistance evaporated, and despite the many external complications to this particular pregnancy, an unexpected wave of protectiveness swept through him. Hot on the heels of that was the sharp realisation that there was no way he would allow Olympia to bring up his child on her own. She seemed to be on an even keel these days, if her absence from the gossip columns was anything to go by, but what if she relapsed? What if she wrecked things in some other way?
Furthermore, he was not having his child raised a Stanhope. He couldn’t imagine a greater insult to his mother’s memory, or a bigger mockery of his achievements. It would be an Andino, brought up on his values—whatever those turned out to be—and that was final.
Olympia had had him on the back foot and dangling from her strings since the moment they’d met, but that stopped now. He was taking control of the situation, nailing it down, so that if and when she screwed up he’d be there to minimise the fallout. To remove her from the picture altogether if it came to that. He would never let his child be subjected to the sort of devastation he’d suffered. Never. Nor could he ever allow a situation in which she waltzed off and cut him out of the picture.
So he didn’t give a toss if she had a problem with ‘the circumstances’ as she so euphemistically put it. If he could rise above what her mother had done to his family then so could she. The new life she was carrying transcended his feelings towards the Stanhopes. He would do everything in his power to keep it safe.
Filled with steely resolve and flatly ignoring the voice in his head, which insisted there had to be some other solution because this one could prove a disaster in ways he couldn’t even begin to comprehend, he turned to face her and announced, ‘You and I will be married.’
* * *
In response to Alex’s stunning and wholly unexpected solution, the tension that had been gripping Olympia ever since the doctor had revealed she was pregnant drained from her system so fast her head spun. The strength left her limbs, her vision blurred, and it was taking every drop of willpower she possessed to stay upright.
Oh, thank God for that , she thought, letting out a long steady breath as her head gradually cleared and her heart rate slowed. What a result. Some people, she knew, might take umbrage at the obsolete idea of marriage for the sake of a child. Others might baulk at the thought of being tied to someone they didn’t know and didn’t particularly like for ever.
Not her, though.
All she felt was relief. Blessed, overwhelming relief. Because, despite the continuing friction that existed between them—not to mention his unflattering denial of the situation, which she’d decided to attribute to shock and had therefore risen above—she didn’t know what she would have done if Alex had told her she was on her own and turfed her out of his building. She hadn’t realised how desperately she’d been relying on his support until she had it. And, quite frankly, that support could not have come in a better form than the one he’d just suggested.
Evidently he was intent on sharing the immense responsibility, which would have been enough on its own, but with this proposal of marriage the future would be secured. In the event she screwed up—entirely possible, despite the progress she’d made with her recovery—her baby would be safe.
Of course, nothing was ever guaranteed, but the set of his jaw and his steely tone indicated a reassuring degree of resolve, of commitment. Formalising their relationship would minimise the possibility of him abandoning them when the going got tough, and it would maximise the chance of making a success of things. So from that point of view, it was a no-brainer.
But it might also have further benefits, she had to admit as she rapidly worked through all the implications of embarking on such a course of action. Ones of considerably less significance, of course, but nevertheless appealing. It could be professionally advantageous. A public demonstration of stability and maturity. Proof that she’d put the past behind her for good and settled down. That, ostensibly, one person at least believed her to be trustworthy and dependable. He would give her gravitas and their union could be presented as a whirlwind romance culminating in a fairy-tale wedding. No one need ever know the true circumstances of the arrangement.
And there was no denying that the physical side of things would be thrilling. The events of today might have turned life for both of them on its head but, despite the shocking impact of this meeting, an undercurrent of attraction still sizzled between them.
When she’d walked in and seen him standing behind his desk, shirt sleeves rolled up, top button undone, watching her intently from behind a pair of black-framed glasses, she’d almost forgotten why she’d come. She’d been hit by the urge to push him down and settle herself on his lap. To set her fingers to his shirt and tackle the rest of the buttons. And he wasn’t immune to her either. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her once and, for all his stony indifference earlier, that pulse at the base of his neck still throbbed madly. Therefore, assuming he’d got over whatever had spooked him in the stairwell, she saw no reason why they shouldn’t indulge that raging chemistry whenever the mood took them.
So what would be the downsides of agreeing to his suggestion? Well, for one thing, there was his surliness, which she was beginning to think was his default setting—at least when it came to her. But she would charm him out of that eventually. As she’d once told him, she could be remarkably persuasive, and she had no doubt that with a little effort she would have him eating out of her hand in no time at all.
Then there was the prospect of binding herself to him for the next twenty years or so, but it wasn’t as if she’d be giving up some childhood dream or anything. Marrying for love, in the manner of her siblings, had never been on the cards for her. She’d done nothing to deserve that sort of happiness, had no idea what love even was, if she was being honest, and as everyone knew, she was a flighty, irresponsible good-time girl. Or at least she had been. Now she wasn’t quite sure what she was, but that didn’t matter. Career progression and optics aside, all that really mattered was the baby.
After years of doing everything wrong, now was the time to do what was right. And that was providing her child with the best possible life she could, the life she would have given anything to have had. So it was the easiest thing in the world to nod firmly and get to her feet. To straighten her spine, smile brightly and say, ‘Great!’
And when he told her ‘I’ll be in touch’ as he walked her to the door, she was so giddily relieved about how well this had all worked out she didn’t even wonder how.