your Leanne in some club there, flown her to Naxos on a whim, and discarded her after a weekend. It is,’ he finished with scathing emphasis, ‘entirely within his character to do so.’
Rhiannon’s thoughts were flying, whirling round and round in frightened, desperate circles. Lukas Petrakides as Annabel’s father was one thing. He was known to be steady, responsible. A good father figure. That was why she had come.
This Christos was something else entirely.
‘But why?’ she asked again, clutching at one seemingly improbable thread.
‘To impress your friend?’ Lukas shrugged. ‘Or more likely to annoy me. He likes to give me bad press, although the tabloid journalists are wise to him by now. They usually ignore his little peccadilloes.’
‘But surely people—the press—would know he wasn’t you?’
Lukas’s mouth twisted in harsh acknowledgement. ‘I keep a low profile. There are few photographs of me, and Christos has a family resemblance. He only does it outside of Greece—he knows he can’t get away with it there.’ He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. ‘It has been an annoyance in the past, but now it poses…’
‘A major inconvenience?’ Rhiannon finished, and he gave her a cool look.
‘A challenge, certainly.’
Rhiannon was silent for a moment. Her thoughts chased themselves down dark tunnels that led to implications her heart shied away from. There was too much new information. Too much to think about…to wonder about. To be frightened about.
‘From the sound of him, I don’t think he would make a good father,’ she finally said. ‘Would he?’
Lukas was ominously silent. ‘I cannot say he is particularly suited for the role.’
‘Or interested in it?’ Rhiannon surmised, feeling sick. She’d come to France to find Annabel’s father…but not this. Not some young, rakish sot who couldn’t care less. Not someone who would openly reject her.
‘No, probably not,’ Lukas agreed after a tense moment.
‘He won’t want Annabel,’ she said in a hollow voice. ‘Will he?’
Lukas’s expression was like steel. Flint. ‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘He won’t.’
Rhiannon shook her head. This was so far from what she’d hoped. Dreamed. She realised now that the happily-ever-after she’d been planning in her head was a fantasy, pathetic and unreal. Could she leave Annabel with a man who didn’t want her?
Could she take her home?
Nothing made sense. Nothing felt right.
‘What are you going to do?’ Rhiannon asked. She didn’t like giving control to Lukas, no matter how used to it he was. She just didn’t know what to do next.
Lukas was studying her in an odd way, his mouth twisting in a grimace of acknowledgement. ‘You really don’t want her,’ he stated flatly. ‘That’s why you came, isn’t it? To give her up…to anyone willing to take her.’
‘If that were true,’ Rhiannon snapped, ‘I would have left her with Social Services. Don’t mistake me, Mr Petrakides. I have Annabel’s best interests at heart.’
‘Undoubtedly.’ It came out as a sneer.
Rhiannon shook her head. If Lukas wanted to judge her for giving up a child she couldn’t truly call her own—if he thought her attempt to find Annabel’s father was suspect—then fine. She refused to exonerate herself. She didn’t need to.
‘If Annabel is indeed Christos’s child,’ Lukas stated with flat finality, ‘then she is my great-niece. My relative.’ In case she didn’t yet get it, he added with steely determination, ‘My responsibility.’
‘I see.’ Rhiannon thought of every article she’d read, every glowing word about Lukas Petrakides being a man of honour, of integrity.
Of responsibility.
When she’d made her decision to find him, those descriptions had seemed like promises.
Now they were threats.
She didn’t want Annabel to be someone’s loveless responsibility. A burden. Yet now she realised she didn’t have much choice.
She’d given her choices away when she’d embarked on this reckless mission.
‘You will stay here until the issue of Annabel’s paternity is resolved,’ Lukas continued in implacable tones.
She’d expected as much, but his autocratic dictate still rankled. How about saying please? ‘What about my responsibilities back home?’ she demanded. ‘My job, my life?’
‘You can’t spare a few days?’ He raised one eyebrow in contemptuous disbelief. ‘Surely you’ve already arranged a leave of absence?’
‘Yes, but only for a few days…’ She’d had holiday coming to her, as she rarely took days off.
‘Then arrange some more.’
‘It’s not that simple…’
‘Actually,’ Lukas replied coolly, ‘it is. Annabel is your first responsibility now—as you have told me yourself. You are her legal guardian aren’t you? For the moment.’
For the moment. Panic fluttered through her insides, left her weak and afraid. ‘Yes, I am. But I’m under no obligation…’
Lukas waved this empty threat aside with scathing contempt. ‘Do not think to outmanoeuvre or outrank me, Miss Davies. I don’t care what the law says. If Annabel is related to me, I will be the one deciding what place you may have in her life…if any. Is that understood?’
Rhiannon blinked in shock at the cold assessment. If any? ‘I’m her guardian…You can’t—’
‘If you didn’t want to start this,’ Lukas informed her with soft menace, ‘you shouldn’t have come. No one would have been any the wiser.’
‘I came,’ Rhiannon replied jerkily, ‘because it was my responsibility to find her true family—’
‘So let me fulfil my responsibility,’ Lukas interjected with cold finality. ‘Until her future is decided, you will remain.’
And then she would be dismissed. The thought frightened her. It hurt, and she hadn’t expected it to.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Rhiannon knew there was no point in arguing, no use in being angry. He had the power, the money, and the expensive legal team to enforce whatever he wished; she had nothing. She didn’t even know what her rights were, hadn’t even checked. After all, it wasn’t supposed to have turned out like this.
‘Fine. I’ll stay…but on my terms. Annabel is still in my care, and nothing has been proved yet.’
‘Indeed.
