Modern Romance October 2019 Books 5-8. Annie West

lifting her water bottle from the table’s edge and sipping it.

      ‘I have a job, Leonidas.’

      ‘Quit.’

      There were only two weeks left of her maternity contract. It wasn’t the worst thing to do, though she hated the idea of leaving her boss in the lurch. She dropped her hand to her stomach and thought of their baby and nothing else seemed to matter.

      For her? She’d do anything.

      ‘You will be safe on the island,’ he insisted, as though he could read her thoughts and knew exactly which buttons to press to get her to agree.

      ‘On Chrysá Vráchia?’ she asked distractedly.

      ‘No.’ His expression took on a contemplative look. ‘My island.’

      ‘You have your own island?’ Disbelief filled the tone of her words.

      ‘Yes. Not far from Chrysá.’ He moved closer, his eyes scanning her face. ‘It is beautiful. You’ll like it.’

      She was sure she would, but it was all happening so fast. Even knowing she would agree—that she had agreed—she heard herself say softly, ‘This is crazy.’

      And perhaps he thought she was going to change her mind, because he crossed the room and caught her arms, holding her close to him, his gaze locked to hers.

      ‘You have to see that I cannot let our child be raised away from me. And, following that logic, that it is best for us to be married, to at least try to present our child with a sense of family, even when we know it to be a lie.’

      Her heart squeezed tight, her lungs expelled air in a rush. Because it was exactly what she wanted, exactly what she’d just been thinking. Still, cynicism was quick to follow relief. ‘You really think we can fool our child into believing we’re a normal couple?’

      His lips were a grim slash and she had the strongest impression that he couldn’t have been less impressed if she’d suggested he set fire to this beautiful, enormous yacht.

      ‘I think we owe it to our child to try.’

       CHAPTER FIVE

      HIS STATE-OF-THE-ART HELICOPTER flew them from the yacht to the airport, where his private jet was waiting.

      It was the kind of plane Hannah had flown to Italy aboard, the kind that commercial airlines used, only it bore the name ‘Leonidas Stathakis’ in gold down the side. When she stepped on board it was exactly like walking into a plush hotel.

      As with the yacht, everything was white or beige, and incredibly comfortable. Enormous seats, like armchairs, chandeliers made of crystal, and, deeper into the plane, a boardroom, a cinema and four bedrooms.

      ‘Have a seat.’ Leonidas indicated a bank of chairs, and as she did she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more like a job interview than anything else.

      For the hundredth time since leaving his yacht, since lifting up into the sky and hovering over the picture-perfect Capri marina, Hannah questioned the wisdom of what she was doing.

      But every time doubt reared its head and begged her to reconsider, she heard his words anew. ‘My wife was murdered. As was my two-year-old son.’ And a frisson of terror sprinted down her spine and she knew she would do anything to avoid that same fate befalling their daughter.

      Every primal, maternal instinct she possessed roared to life. She wouldn’t allow their child to be harmed.

      And nor would he.

      She’d felt that promise from him and trusted him, had known he would lay down his own life if necessary to protect hers, to protect their child’s.

      And suddenly, the world seemed frightening and huge, and Hannah knew that if she walked away from Leonidas now, she would be alone, with unknown dangers lurking, with threats to their child she couldn’t possibly appreciate, let alone avoid.

      ‘The usual month-long notification period for weddings will be waived,’ he explained, sitting opposite her, his long legs encroaching on her space so that if she wasn’t very careful, they would be touching and the little fires still buzzing beneath her skin would arc into full-blown wildfires once more.

      It took her a moment to collect her mind from the fears that were circulating and bring herself back to the present. ‘Why?’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      Her sea-green eyes showed confusion. ‘Well, isn’t that the law? Why would that be changed for us?’

      He lifted a brow and comprehension dawned.

      ‘Because you asked for it to be, and you’re Leonidas Stathakis.’

      He shrugged. ‘Yes.’

      ‘And you get whatever you want?’

      His eyes were like coal once more. ‘No.’

      Her heart twisted because of course he didn’t. He’d just told her he’d lost his family—clearly his life wasn’t that of a charmed man.

      ‘Why rush, though, Leonidas?’

      All of his attention was on her and she trembled for a different reason now, as the heat of his gaze touched something deep in her soul, stirring the remnants of their passion and desire anew. She swallowed, her throat dry, her cheeks blushing pink.

      ‘Because there is no point in delay. Because I want you to be protected from this day, this moment. I will take no risks with our daughter’s life,’ he said firmly. ‘Nor with yours. You should not have been brought into this.’

      She opened her mouth to confront him, but he continued. ‘Having sex with you was a moment of weakness, a stupid, selfish decision that I regretted instantly. Believe me, Hannah, if I could take that back, if I could have never met you…’ He shook his head, looking away, as the plane began to move on the runway.

      ‘I am sorry to have drawn you into my world. I am sorry that we must marry, sorry that we are having a child together. It is my fault, all of it. I cannot change that night, what happened between us, but I can do my damned best to ensure no further harm befalls you.’

      ‘Harm?’ she repeated, the word just a croak. ‘You think of this pregnancy as harm?’

      ‘I think it is a mistake,’ he muttered. ‘But one we must live with.’

      Her temper spiked, disbelief at his callous words making her chest hurt. ‘How can you talk about our baby like that?’ she found herself whispering, even though that ‘baby’ was still very much inside her.

      ‘You said as much yourself,’ he pointed out logically. ‘You didn’t want this.’

      ‘I didn’t plan on it happening,’ she corrected caustically. ‘I’m twenty-three years old; I thought children would be way off in the future.’

      He dipped his head in silent concession.

      ‘But, Leonidas, almost as soon as I learned of this pregnancy, I have loved this baby, and I have wanted our daughter, and I have known I would put this child first. For ever and always.’

      He digested her words, his expression giving little away, and then he nodded, as the plane hurtled faster down the runway before lifting into the sky.

      ‘And in marrying me, I understand you are doing just that—putting our baby first. You do not wish for this marriage, and nor do I.’ He ground his teeth together. ‘And yet, for this child, here we are.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, not seeing the way her face paled at his harshly delivered words. ‘I have some questions for you. My lawyer emailed them across.’

      ‘Questions?’ It was a rapid change of subject, one that made her head spin. ‘What