A Christmas Marriage Ultimatum. Helen Bianchin

actress.’

      ‘So you said at the time,’ Chantelle declared bitterly.

      ‘Yet you still walked.’

      Her trust in him, what she’d thought they had together, had been destroyed. ‘I couldn’t stay.’ He hadn’t tried to stop her. Nor had he called.

      To be fair, neither had she.

      ‘Shall we begin again?’

      ‘There is nothing to discuss.’

      ‘We can do it here, now. Or we can share dinner tomorrow night.’ He waited a beat. ‘Your choice.’

      ‘No.’

      One eyebrow slanted. ‘You want to play hardball?’

      ‘I don’t want to play at all!’

      His features assumed a hard mask. ‘I deserve to know if Samuel is my son.’

      ‘What if I tell you he’s not?’

      His gaze pierced hers, indomitable and frighteningly inflexible. ‘I want proof, one way or another.’

      Bravado rose to the fore as she held his gaze. ‘You don’t have the right.’

      ‘Yes, I do. Seven, tomorrow evening. I’ll collect you.’

      She didn’t want him here. In fact, she didn’t want to see him anywhere, period!

      ‘You want to do this with a degree of civility?’ Dimitri queried. ‘Or—?’

      ‘I’ll meet you.’ She named the first restaurant that came to mind. ‘Seven.’

      Without a further word she moved away from him, seeking another guest…anyone with whom she could converse and therefore escape Dimitri Cristopoulis’ damning presence.