Reasoned argument. For her baby’s sake…
The hard lump eased a little and she could swallow. ‘How…how is she?’
Her voice quavered and his mouth immediately contracted into a hard line. What had she said to annoy him? Emma felt awash with terror in case he lost his not inconsiderable temper and refused to listen to her.
‘Don’t do this to me. I must know,’ she begged wretchedly.
‘Alexandra is well and happy.’
He spoke in a stiff undertone and she leaned far across the table, frantic to hear every word he uttered. Leon seemed to shrink back as if she was invading his space. He loathed her, she thought dully. How was she to win him round?
She bit her soft lower lip intently, anxious to hear about her beloved baby. ‘Is she very upset? Does she…cry much?’ she said jerkily.
‘No.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Don’t lie to me!’ She flung the words at him. ‘She must!’
‘If I say she doesn’t, then it’s true,’ he answered irritably. ‘She’ll cry for a while when she’s tired or hungry or needing comfort but she soon stops. Otherwise she’s content. I am not a liar. I come from an honest people,’ he pointed out, forcing the words fiercely through his tightly clenched teeth.
‘I’m honest too. I don’t deserve to be in prison, accused of fraud,’ she hurled.
‘Such injustice.’ He tutted, his expression cynical and disbelieving.
Emma realised that it was no use trying to persuade him that she was whiter than snow. He had her down as a criminal and that was that.
‘Lexi’s OK, then?’ she persisted in a plaintive tone. ‘She’s eating properly?’
‘How many times do I have to tell you?’ he said irritably. ‘She’s absolutely fine. Use your common sense. Why would I allow any harm to come to her?’
Emma paused to consider this. In her experience Greeks loved children and had a way with them. Lexi was probably being spoiled rotten.
A twinge, as sharp as a knife, twisted in her breast with such force that her hand lifted to ease it. For her daughter’s sake she felt relieved that all was well, but she felt more bereft than ever.
Maybe she wasn’t necessary to Lexi’s well-being at all. Her child could exist without her. But could she exist without her child? Her heart went cold and she shuddered, sliding her thin arms around her shivering body, consoling herself with the fact that only she knew all the tiny things that made Lexi truly content.
‘She does have her teddy bear, doesn’t she?’ she began shakily. ‘And I don’t suppose you realise that she needs her yellow blanket—’
‘It’s with her as we speak. I removed everything from your house which looked remotely as if it belonged to Lexi,’ he retorted.
Emma gaped, astounded at his thoroughness. ‘You planned this!’ she accused hotly. ‘You knew exactly what you would do if the jury pronounced me guilty—’
‘Of course I did. I couldn’t allow my late brother’s child to remain in the care of a stranger,’ he snapped.
‘She’s my neighbour. Lexi knows her. It was only temporary, anyway,’ she argued. ‘I fully expected to be free—’
‘And what did you organise if not?’ he asked sardonically.
‘If there was a problem, my neighbour was to bring her to the mother-and-baby unit here.’
He still hadn’t answered the question. Where was her daughter? Suddenly she had a flash of fear, picturing her baby abandoned outside in a car, or in her buggy by the prison entrance where anyone could abduct her… She drew in a choking breath.
‘And what about your babysitting arrangements? If you’re here,’ she said jerkily, her voice rising in panic, ‘who’s looking after Lexi now?’
His eyes flickered. ‘Marina. My—’
But she’d got there before him. ‘Your wife!’ she said breathily.
Emma sat stunned. Of course. Who else? she thought dully. And then she noticed something strange. There was a sliver of pain knifing across the dark depths of his eyes and bitterness had drawn his mouth into a hard line.
He wasn’t happy, she realised with a shock. Pangs of half-remembered love touched her shuttered heart. She’d adored him once. They’d been students together and he’d been everything to her. But one day, totally out of the blue, she’d seen him emerging from a local restaurant with a drop-dead gorgeous blonde on his arm. Her world had disintegrated rapidly.
‘An engagement party,’ the obliging Greek waiter had said, his apron stuffed with tips from the affluent, laughing crowd.
The lintel above the entrance where they were posing for photographs had born a banner with the elaborately printed legend, Leon and Marina. It had been emblazoned with hearts and love knots. The waiter picked up a discarded menu with the same design and the appalled Emma had known that this must have been planned for some time.
Tears of rage and misery had rendered her speechless. He’d been organising his wedding while vowing he loved her…even while he was sleeping with her!
‘Leon!’ she’d cried rawly.
He’d looked directly at her and turned a deathly white. ‘Emma!’
All eyes had been upon her then. Clearly appalled that she’d found him out, he’d spoken to a younger man at his side who’d come over and introduced himself as Leon’s brother, Taki.
‘He’s the Kyriakis heir, she’s the Christofides heiress,’ Taki had explained gently as he’d driven her home. ‘Our families have been linked for generations. Don’t take this personally,’ he’d said soothingly, when she’d continued to sob. ‘It’s how we do things. We need sex so we find a woman who is amenable. Then we marry a more suitable virgin.’
The humiliating words dug deep. She’d been used as a whore! Bought presents, taken out to dinner…and in return he’d pillaged her heart and soul and body!
Broken-hearted, her self-esteem at rock bottom, she’d relied increasingly on the attentive, kind Taki. His respect for her had been deeply touching. Eventually she’d succumbed to Taki’s charm offensive and married him, unaware of his fatal need to outdo his rival brother.
She gave a grimace. Incredibly, Taki had believed that Leon would be jealous of his marriage to her. But why, when she had nothing—and the elegant, shopaholic Marina had breeding, wealth and social position?
Her heart thudded in alarm. This was the woman who was now looking after her child! What, she thought with uncharacteristic sourness, did a clothes-horse on legs know about such things?
Her brows beetled together in a fierce scowl. ‘Your wife had better be the Mary Poppins of child care—or you’ll have me to reckon with!’ she muttered.
‘Marina has a daughter
