crimes.
He glanced covertly at her again, seeing the lines around her mouth, her eyes.
Chronic exhaustion, her medical records stated, on top of being ill and injured.
He frowned again. Why had she made no mention of the fact that her father had died so recently? Or that he’d been ill for so long.
He knew how much of a strain it could be when a parent was ill for years. With his father, it had taken two years from his first heart attack to his final fatal one, and the time had stretched endlessly. His father had refused to acknowledge his ‘weakness’, as he’d called it, and insisted on keeping all the reins of power of Petrakis International. Yet his obsessive determination to stay at the helm had inevitably shortened his life. Nor had he let his son take some of the pressure from him.
His son? Alexis’s mouth twisted suddenly. His father’s final bitter words to him, as he had surfaced, so briefly, from his last massive attack, reverberated in his mind.
Instinctively, his eyes went back to Nicky.
My son, he thought. My son.
Emotion, fierce and protective, surged through him.
CHAPTER SIX
‘G OODNIGHT , my darling.’ Rhianna smoothed her sleeping son’s hair one last time, a huge, unending wave of love and protection pouring from her. Nothing would take him from her again. Not principalities nor powers.
And not Alexis Petrakis.
He says he won’t part you, though. He says while Nicky needs you he will have you…
And you trust him? You actually trust a man like that? Who did what he did to you? Pain stabbed at her, twisting like a knife.
How could he have been so callous to her? How could he have treated her like that?
The answer came cold and clear, the way it always did.
Hurting her more than anything else.
Because you were just a one-night stand. Casual sex. No one important…
She got to her feet. Well, now she was his son’s mother.
And Alexis Petrakis was no one important to her.
Except as a man who threatened her and her son.
She straightened her shoulders and walked into her bedroom.
Nurse Thompson was in there.
‘Nicky asleep? Good. Now, tonight, I understand, you are to eat in the dining room?’
Her voice was bland. Rhianna stared. She usually ate her evening meal with Nurse Thompson and Karen, in their sitting room, chatting amicably about anything that had nothing to do with why Rhianna was here on a privately owned Greek island with a child who looked like the man who owned it. After eating they watched English-language satellite channels. It was relaxing, easy and familiar.
But maybe, she thought viciously as she headed haltingly for the dining room across the central hallway, Alexis Petrakis didn’t like the idea of her getting cosy with those whom he had hired—as he had so scathingly informed her—to supervise her contact with her son. Maybe now she was supposed to eat in isolation, on her own.
Or maybe not.
He was waiting for her, standing by the sideboard and pouring himself a whisky.
Abruptly she turned to go.
‘What are you doing?’ The voice was sharp.
‘Going to my room.’
An exasperated sigh escaped Alexis’s lips.
‘ Stavros is about to serve dinner.’
‘I don’t want any.’
His voice darkened. ‘We have things to talk about.’
Rhianna whirled round as fast as her legs would bear.
‘No, we don’t. The only talking I’ll do with you now, after what you’ve said to me, is through a lawyer. Nicky is my son. I have custody of him. And you—as you have already admitted—have no rights in law over him. So don’t even think of using your wealth and power to take him from me!’
Her voice had risen. Adrenaline surged within her. It was the flight-or-fight hormone, but there was only one way she was going to use it. Her son was at stake—she had to fight for him. Had to.
‘Understand this, and understand it well: Nicky is my life. I will keep him safe till my dying day. I will not let you take him from me—part him from me—in any way
He glanced covertly at her again, seeing the lines around her mouth, her eyes.
Chronic exhaustion, her medical records stated, on top of being ill and injured.
He frowned again. Why had she made no mention of the fact that her father had died so recently? Or that he’d been ill for so long.
He knew how much of a strain it could be when a parent was ill for years. With his father, it had taken two years from his first heart attack to his final fatal one, and the time had stretched endlessly. His father had refused to acknowledge his ‘weakness’, as he’d called it, and insisted on keeping all the reins of power of Petrakis International. Yet his obsessive determination to stay at the helm had inevitably shortened his life. Nor had he let his son take some of the pressure from him.
His son? Alexis’s mouth twisted suddenly. His father’s final bitter words to him, as he had surfaced, so briefly, from his last massive attack, reverberated in his mind.
Instinctively, his eyes went back to Nicky.
My son, he thought. My son.
Emotion, fierce and protective, surged through him.
CHAPTER SIX
‘G OODNIGHT , my darling.’ Rhianna smoothed her sleeping son’s hair one last time, a huge, unending wave of love and protection pouring from her. Nothing would take him from her again. Not principalities nor powers.
And not Alexis Petrakis.
He says he won’t part you, though. He says while Nicky needs you he will have you…
And you trust him? You actually trust a man like that? Who did what he did to you? Pain stabbed at her, twisting like a knife.
How could he have been so callous to her? How could he have treated her like that?
The answer came cold and clear, the way it always did.
Hurting her more than anything else.
Because you were just a one-night stand. Casual sex. No one important…
She got to her feet. Well, now she was his son’s mother.
And Alexis Petrakis was no one important to her.
Except as a man who threatened her and her son.
She straightened her shoulders and walked into her bedroom.
Nurse Thompson was in there.
‘Nicky asleep? Good. Now, tonight, I understand, you are to eat in the dining room?’
Her voice was bland. Rhianna stared. She usually ate her evening meal with Nurse Thompson and Karen, in their sitting room, chatting amicably about anything that had nothing to do with why Rhianna was here on a privately owned Greek island with a child who looked like the man who owned it. After eating they watched English-language satellite channels. It was relaxing, easy and familiar.
But maybe, she thought viciously as she headed haltingly for the dining room across the central hallway, Alexis Petrakis didn’t like the idea of her getting cosy with those whom he had hired—as he had so scathingly informed her—to supervise her contact with her son. Maybe now she was supposed to eat in isolation, on her own.
Or maybe not.
He was waiting for her, standing by the sideboard and pouring himself a whisky.
Abruptly she turned to go.
‘What are you doing?’ The voice was sharp.
‘Going to my room.’
An exasperated sigh escaped Alexis’s lips.
‘ Stavros is about to serve dinner.’
‘I don’t want any.’
His voice darkened. ‘We have things to talk about.’
Rhianna whirled round as fast as her legs would bear.
‘No, we don’t. The only talking I’ll do with you now, after what you’ve said to me, is through a lawyer. Nicky is my son. I have custody of him. And you—as you have already admitted—have no rights in law over him. So don’t even think of using your wealth and power to take him from me!’
Her voice had risen. Adrenaline surged within her. It was the flight-or-fight hormone, but there was only one way she was going to use it. Her son was at stake—she had to fight for him. Had to.
‘Understand this, and understand it well: Nicky is my life. I will keep him safe till my dying day. I will not let you take him from me—part him from me—in any way
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