In Christofides' Keeping by Abby Green Page A

tightened again, and he could see her hands in fists on her lap.
    ‘And in the meantime you plan on dragging us around the world with you? What kind of a life is that for a small child? She needs a routine, Rico, not a billionaireplayboy father. Or are you planning to leave us in a sterile apartment like this one and visit whenever the mood strikes?’
    Gypsy looked up at Rico and felt as if her neck might snap. She was so tense. His words were whirling sickeningly in her head, and along with them his obviously smug sense of satisfaction at having got her exactly where he wanted her. She needed space. She had to digest this—even though she knew with fatal certainty that what he said was true: she wouldn’t have a leg to stand on in court, and had no means to get there. And, she had to acknowledge heavily, she only had herself to blame. If she hadn’t taken the decision to keep Lola a secret who knew how things might have developed?
    He answered her now, coldly. ‘On the contrary. My main base is in Greece. I live between Athens and the island of Zakynthos. Most of my business is conducted there. This is actually my first visit back to London in…two years.’
    The way he said the words, as if he was remembering that night, made the air crackle between them. Feeling claustrophobic, Gypsy blurted out before she could censor her words, ‘You’re not going to…to demand that we get married…?’
    Rico looked down at her. He was far too close. He arched one brow. ‘Is that what you’d like, Gypsy? Is that what you’re holding out for? Nothing less than matrimony?’
    Before she could say that it was the last thing in the world she wanted he continued. ‘Curiously, I have no desire to marry someone who believes that she has the divine right to play God with a child’s life. Any wifeI choose will understand the concept of honesty and trust.’
    Standing up, because the feeling of claustrophobia was getting worse, and not liking they way he’d said he had no desire to marry her had impacted her somewhere very secret she bit out, ‘Men like you don’t even know the meaning of trust or honesty. And if I had to go back in time I’d make the same decision all over again.’
    Gypsy expected Rico to move back to give her space. But he didn’t. He brought his hands up to her arms and held her. Gypsy tried to pull away but his hold tightened.
    Her words had hit a nerve. His eyes flashed, his jaw tightened. ‘I’m not finished. I haven’t told you the other thing I want.’
    Gypsy’s whole body was tensed against the inevitable effect of Rico’s proximity. They were practically touching. All she’d have to do was take a deep breath and her breasts would push against his chest. Anger at realising that, and wanting it, made her lash out. ‘ What? Haven’t you asked for enough? What more can I give you?’
    He looked at her for a long moment, his steel-grey gaze intent, focused. And then he said, with devastating simplicity, ‘You.’
    His words sank in, slowly, and with it came an awful trickling of heat through her veins and into her belly. She started to struggle in his arms. ‘No… no …I won’t have it. I don’t want you.’
    But Rico just kept on holding her and said, ‘Stop lying to yourself, Gypsy.’
    He brought his hands up to her face, fingers around the back of her head, holding it. His thumbs were warm on her jaw. To her utter horror she could hear her breaths coming, hard and shallow. She put her hands over his, asif she could pull them down, and entreated with everything she had, all her secret vulnerabilities where this man was concerned, ‘Rico… please don’t do this.’
    He shook his head. ‘I can’t not do this.’
    And with his big hands cupping her face and head, crowding her utterly, he lowered his head to hers and took her lips in a kiss of soul-destroying and surprising sweetness. As if all the tension and animosity between them was an illusion. If he’d been hard and forceful it