Reluctant Mistress, Blackmailed Wife. Lynne Graham

you do. You just got out of the bloke’s limo!’

      ‘You saw me? Did you follow me all the way from the bank? And to my friend’s as well?’ Katie was unnerved by that awareness, and turned towards the stairs again.

      The reporter was in her way. ‘I hear you have a couple of kids…’

      ‘What’s that got to do with you?’

      ‘Christakis is a very interesting guy. If you have anything to tell us about him it could be well worth your while,’ he told her with a meaningful look. ‘People don’t talk about him. He lives in a world most of us can only envy. So anything of an exciting personal nature would have a very high cash value.’

      Katie hesitated, distaste filling her. She wanted to tell him to get lost and leave her alone. If only Alexandros had given her a more concrete promise of support than a phone number! Leanne had said that she should be prepared to do anything to give Toby and Connor a better start in life. But talking to a newspaper in return for money struck her as sleazy, and she wanted to think that she was above doing that sort of thing. And yet she was also painfully aware that it was her job to provide her children with a decent home, and achieving that would require cold hard cash.

      ‘We’re on your trail now, so if there’s any dirt to dig we’ll find it anyway.’ Threat and warning were linked in Trev’s hopeful appraisal. ‘So why don’t you make it easier for us and turn a profit too?’

      ‘I’m not interested.’ Even as she spoke, Katie did not know whether or not she was making the right decision.

      An hour later she went back to Leanne’s, to pick up Toby and Connor. While her friend saw her mother out of the flat, Katie scooped up her sons, one at a time out of the buggy, and hugged them tight. After a busy morning of occupation, Toby gave her a huge sunny smile, and Connor laughed.

      ‘So, tell…’ Leanne urged impatiently. ‘What happened? Did you get to see Alexandros?’

      Katie explained, while her friend listened with avid interest and made her describe the limo in detail.

      ‘Alexandros is obviously stinking rich.’ A calculating expression formed on Leanne’s pretty face. ‘And the best offer he can make you is a DNA test?’ she sneered. ‘He’ll need to do a lot better than that!’

      ‘He was shocked…I’ll give him a couple of days and see what happens.’ Katie displayed the card she had been given by the journalist to the brunette.

      ‘Whoopy-do!’ Leanne snatched the card to study it, more impressed by the interest of the Daily Globe than by anything else. ‘This Trev took the trouble to follow you? Hey, Alexandros must be a real celebrity! And you turned the reporter’s offer down? Are you out of your tiny mind?’

      ‘I have to give Alexandros a chance to help us first.’

      ‘But if the press find out whose kids Toby and Connor are without your input, you won’t make any money at all!’

      Katie was beginning to feel uncomfortable. ‘I know, but I don’t think anyone will work out what my relationship was with Alexandros any time soon. I mean, nobody knows about us—’

      ‘You could make pots of money out of this, Katie. Haven’t you got the guts to go for it?’ her friend demanded

      ‘Alexandros would hate that kind of publicity, and he’d never forgive me for it.’

      ‘So what? What’s he to you?’

      ‘He’ll always be the twins’ father. I don’t want to make an enemy of him. Flogging our story to the newspapers has to be a last resort for me.’

      Leanne gave her a scornful look. ‘You’re being really stupid about this. There’s money to be made. Your problem is that you’ve still got feelings for that bastard—’

      Katie was affronted by that suggestion. ‘No, I haven’t!’

      ‘Much good it’ll do you. He doesn’t want to know now, does he?’ Leanne sniped, and soon after that Katie thought it wisest to thank the brunette for looking after the twins and go.

      Mid-morning the following day, a young man in casual clothing came to her door. ‘Are you Katie Fletcher?’

      At her nod of confirmation, he extended a mobile phone to her.

      ‘I’m a solicitor, engaged to represent a certain person’s interests, Miss Fletcher,’ the brisk voice on the phone informed her. ‘I’m sure you’ll understand the need for discretion in this case. Are you willing to undergo DNA testing?’

      Katie was taken by surprise, but recognised that such speed of action was essentially an Alexandros Christakis trait. ‘Yes…’

      ‘Then sign the consent form and the matter will be taken care of immediately, with the minimum of disruption.’

      An envelope and a pen were passed to her, the phone returned. Her caller departed. She drew out a brief document, scanned it with strained eyes and then scrawled her signature. Alexandros was doing what came naturally to him. It was insulting and humiliating, but also a necessary evil if she was to prove her claim. Within half an hour a doctor arrived with a medical bag. He explained that the test consisted of painless mouth swabs being taken from her and the twins. In a matter of minutes he had carried out the procedure and smoothly taken his leave again.

      She walked the floor that evening, trying to soothe Toby. Although it was barely nine o’clock, someone banged on the wall to complain, and a man knocked at the door and asked her to keep her kids quiet because he was a shift worker trying to get some sleep. Tears were tracking down Katie’s weary face while she struggled to quieten Toby, who seemed to have no more notion of sleeping at night than an owl. It was impossible for her not to look back and wonder how her life had drifted so far off the course she had assumed it would follow…

      After Katie’s English father had died, her mother had taken her daughter back to Ireland to live. Katie had enjoyed a happy childhood in a small town where everyone had known everyone else. Armed with an honours degree in Economics, she had been ecstatic when she’d got her first job as a PA in London. But when her mother had fallen ill she had had to resign and return home.

      In spite of her ill health, Maura Fletcher had insisted on keeping up a couple of part-time jobs. Fearful of losing her livelihood, the older woman had only been persuaded to take the doctor’s advice and rest when Katie had agreed to stand in for her until she regained her strength.

      Maura had acted as caretaker and occasional housekeeper at a superb contemporary house which overlooked a sea inlet a few miles from their home. Owned by a German industrialist and rarely occupied, the property lay down a long gated track and enjoyed an incredibly private and beautiful setting. Katie had one day prepared the house for the occupation of a single mystery guest. A car accident had put the two domestic staff travelling with Alexandros out of commission and the rental agency, unaware that Katie was doing her mother’s job for her, had recommended her parent as temporary cook and cleaner.

      A fax had followed, detailing more exact requirements, and Katie had been staggered by the number of rules she was expected to observe, ranging from meals to be served at rigid hours and a duty on her part to being both invisible and silent. On the other hand, the salary offered had been generous enough to bring a delighted smile to her mother’s anxious face, and the cutting-edge equipment being installed in the office with a sea view and a balcony had suggested that the guest would be much too busy to pay heed to the amateur level of the household help. Of course, accustomed as Alexandros was to perfection in every field, he had refused to settle for less, and Katie, secretly resenting the role of servant, had refused to be suitably humble. That they should clash had been inevitable.

      No passage of time could eradicate Katie’s memory of her first glimpse of Alexandros. After he had arrived by helicopter, he had gone straight down to the seashore. From about twenty yards away she had watched him, dumbstruck by his sleek, dark, masculine magnificence. Clad in jeans and a husky grey cashmere sweater, and even with his