The Sarantos Baby Bargain. Olivia Gates

she felt any more information might be fuel that would burn any bridges to having Dora in her life at all.

      She let out a shaky exhalation. “So in a fight, I don’t stand a chance of keeping Dora?”

      “As only her aunt, and with the will you describe, and with Mr. Sarantos’s enormous influence, regretfully, no.”

      She’d already more than half known that, was here hoping against hope. Hearing the words still felt like a burning coal sliding down her throat.

      Feeling she was pushing the lump of agony back out, she whispered, “Any advice?”

      “Just this. Keep this out of court if you possibly can. Your best hope is not to antagonize Mr. Sarantos, but to appeal to him. His goodwill is all you can count on.”

      * * *

      In an hour’s time, she was staring in the mirror in her building’s elevator.

      Her reflection looked worse than what had looked back at her after she’d left Andreas four years ago. Or even after Nadine’s death. Her complexion was mottled, the blue of her eyes was muddy, even the luster in her blond hair was gone. Two people who’d met her on the way from her attorney had been so alarmed they’d both thought she was ill. One had tried to convince her to let him take her to the emergency room.

      The ping announcing her floor lurched through her, had her stumbling out of the elevator. At her apartment door, she stopped, her hand clenching the keys until it ached.

      The delightful baby sounds coming from inside, which always lifted her heart even at its most leaden, only sank talons of misery in it now. It was unimaginable, unbearable, unsurvivable—the thought of losing Dora. A life without her constantly there, hers to love, to take care of and to worry about, wasn’t worth living.

      Leaning her clammy forehead on the cool wood, Naomi drew in a ragged breath, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to pour. She had to get her act together, couldn’t walk in looking as if her world had ended. It had disturbed Dora when Naomi had been unable to control her anguish after Nadine’s death, and she’d been only seven months old then. Now she was much more aware, and supremely sensitive to moods. Whenever a wave of desolation swept Naomi, it got to Dora bad. She couldn’t expose her baby to her current condition.

      God, this was all her fault. Everything had snowballed from the moment she’d allowed her desire for Andreas to overrule her logic and self-respect. And again, when she hadn’t escaped with minimum damage that first time she’d walked away.

      But when he’d eventually come after her and offered what she’d thought impossible with him, marriage, she’d fallen back into his arms.

      Unable to break her addiction to him, she’d accepted his stunted proposal. She’d convinced herself it had been as close to a confession of involvement as she could expect from him, and consented to his abnormal terms. She hadn’t even contested it when he’d stipulated their marriage would be a secret known only to them and Nadine and Petros, so his complicated business life wouldn’t invade his private one. Their so-called wedding day had consisted of signing a few papers, then a meal with her sister and his friend, which Andreas hadn’t even attended, having to leave before it started. Naomi hadn’t let herself mind, especially when the wedding night had dragged her back into the depths of delirium.

      Afterward, he’d remained insatiable, but true to his terms. He’d kept their marriage a secret he guarded to the point of obsession. Rationalizing his behavior had become the basis of her thinking, believing that it was natural for him to protect his private life at all costs. But that would have made sense if said life actually included her. And it hadn’t.

      Just like when they’d been only lovers, he hadn’t let her enter his inner world. He’d never taken her to his home. She’d never even found out if he’d had a place he called home. They’d met in hotels or rentals, he’d never joined her in her personal places or endeavors, and they’d never even gone out together. He’d kept her strictly out of everything he’d done, personal or professional, told her nothing of his past and never mentioned the future.

      The sum total of mentioning his family had been to admit that the Aristedes Sarantos was his brother. It had been how she’d found out—from Aristedes’s scarce online info—that Andreas had a large family that included four sisters, with an assortment of nephews and nieces. He’d closed the subject of his family forever by claiming he had no relations with them whatsoever. While that seemed plausible, he might have said that just to end any possibility of her asking to meet them. Whatever the truth had been, she’d been certain of one thing. His family hadn’t known she existed. She’d been right.

      But while she and Andreas had continued leading separate lives, except during the constant sex sessions he’d seemed as addicted to as she’d been, Nadine and Petros had become inseparable and had soon gotten married.

      It had been the up-close example of their true intimacy and intense emotional bond that had broken the trance Naomi had placed herself in so she’d accept the conditions of her non-marriage to Andreas. Not that she’d given in easily. Whenever the need to share with Andreas something approaching what Nadine and Petros shared became unbearable, she’d reminded herself how different she and her sister were, how Andreas and Petros were opposites, and that their relationships were bound to be as dissimilar.

      Then one day Nadine had told her of her and Petros’s failed efforts to conceive, and that they’d seek professional help. Later that night, Naomi had mentioned that to Andreas. She would never forget his reaction. He’d turned to her, colder than she’d ever seen him and said that if she thought relating that to imply it was time they had a baby, she could forget it. He was never having children.

      His icy declaration had finally forced her to face the pathetic emptiness of their relationship. He’d underscored the fact that if she remained with him, she’d have nothing to look forward to but more of the same nothingness. And it had been her fault yet again. She should have known she wouldn’t be able to withstand that unnatural arrangement with the emotionally aberrant man that he was for long, let alone forever. Not only hadn’t there been any hope for anything more between them, they’d never had anything to start with. She’d never felt like his wife, and he’d certainly been no husband to her. Apart from being his “sexual habit,” she hadn’t existed to him.

      Next day she’d asked him for a divorce. Thinking he’d be as nonreactive as he’d been the first time she’d tried to end their liaison, she’d been shocked by his fury. He’d seethed, saying that he wouldn’t be coerced into giving her what she wanted. Her anger had risen to match his. What had he thought she wanted? A real marriage, God forbid? He’d retorted that she’d known exactly what to expect, and she’d agreed. She wouldn’t make him the villain.

      Heart breaking, she’d asked for one thing, the first and last thing she’d ever ask from him. A quick and hassle-free divorce, to end what they should never have started.

      When he’d again watched her leave in silence, she’d been certain he wouldn’t come after her this time. And he hadn’t. He’d just sent his legal hound to snap at her feet and drag her through six months of struggle and anxiety before he’d deigned to let her go.

      If it weren’t for her pursuing Andreas in the first place, then going back for more when she should have run, Nadine wouldn’t have met Petros. None of the chain reaction of catastrophes ending in the current one would have occurred.

      But then, Dora wouldn’t have come into existence, either. And for her alone, Naomi would never wish anything different.

      Now she had to figure out how to keep her from Andreas’s cold grasp.

      Straightening, she filled her lungs with air. The plunge into the past, as mortifying and self-condemning as it had been, had had a good side effect. It had driven away her desperation, dried her eyes and steadied her nerves.

      After another bracing breath, she walked into her apartment.

      Entering the family room where Andreas’s echoes still lingered, she found Dora sitting on