Betsy breathed in deep and scolded herself for getting so upset. After all, she could not afford to be oversensitive. Cristos would have to be told. She had to be sensible and consider the baby's needs and her own. Furthermore, it took two to make a baby, which meant that he was as much to blame as she was…
CHAPTER SIX
FEELING stiff and uncomfortable in the sober dark brown skirt suit she had dug out of the back of her wardrobe, Betsy sat down in the elegant waiting area on the executive floor of the Stephanides office block.
With an unsteady hand, she lifted an architectural digest adorned with a picture of the strikingly contemporary and comparatively new building. She opened it up, was confronted by a photo of Cristos smiling and hastily returned the magazine to the coffee-table.
'Miss Mitchell?' A svelte older woman approached her with a cordless phone. 'Mr. Stephanides asked me to offer you his apologies. He's in an important meeting but he would like to speak to you.'
Bemused, Betsy accepted the proffered receiver. 'I'm so pleased you're here. We'll have lunch together,' Cristos murmured huskily and somewhere in the background she could hear the dulled drone of male voices talking.
Betsy tensed, for she had not viewed her visit as being in the light of a social occasion. 'But-'
'I'd love to chat but I can't. Listen, I've already arranged transport for you and Dolius will take you downstairs. I'll wrap up things here within the hour and join you.'
Before she could catch her breath, Cristos had terminated the call. She should have told him in advance that she was coming to see him or at least made an appointment, Betsy reflected uncomfortably. The bodyguard whom she had crossed swords with on the day of the kidnapping stepped out of the lift.
'Will you come this way, please?' Dolius enquired, his craggy features as expressionless as though he had never met her before.
For the first time in her life, Betsy travelled as a passenger in a luxurious limousine. But she could not relax enough to get anything out of the experience. Her nerves were as active as jumping beans. Where was she being taken? Some hotel? She could hardly announce that she was pregnant over lunch in a public restaurant. When Cristos arrived she would have to explain that she needed to speak to him in private.
Her every expectation was confounded when she was taken to an exclusive block of accommodation and ushered up to the penthouse. Assuming that the palatial apartment was where Cristos lived when he was over in London, Betsy paced the carpet in the magnificent drawing room. It was, however, a curiously impersonal room. It had neither photos nor books; indeed there was nothing on display that would have cast the smallest light on the nature, family connections or interests of the owner. At the other end of the apartment, the distant clatter of dishes and voices indicated that lunch was being prepared.
'Betsy… '
She whirled round.
Dark eyes flaming gold, Cristos stared across the room at her. 'So how do we celebrate this historic moment?' he drawled.
His business suit was a dark grey pinstripe tailored to an exquisite fit on his broad shoulders and long, powerful thighs. His slow, devastating smile slashed his darkly handsome features. For a shameful instant, her heart leapt inside her chest with excitement. A split second later, she remembered Petrina Rhodias and the pain of that humiliating recollection stiffened her backbone.
'What historic moment?' Betsy echoed, struggling to regain her concentration and say what had to be said. 'Celebrate?'
'This apartment is yours. I bought it for you soon after we regained our freedom,' Cristos imparted, strolling forward. 'But if you don't like it, we'll find you somewhere more to your taste.'
It was only then that Betsy realized that Cristos had got completely the wrong idea about why she had come to see him. 'If you bought this apartment for me, you've made a really expensive mistake. I don't understand why you won't listen to what I say to you-'
'How can I?' Cristos demanded. 'I want you back.
Why are you doing this to us? You look miserable-'
'Yes…' Betsy conceded tightly. 'You've got that right. But you've got everything else wrong. In fact we're talking at cross purposes. I wanted to see you today for one reason only-'
'Let's discuss it at our leisure over lunch,' Cristos cut in, smooth as s~.
'I don't feel sociable…look-' Betsy hesitated and then stabbed on '-I'm pregnant.'
Cristos went so still he might have been a statue.
His expression did not alter but his superb bone structure tightened beneath his bronzed skin. The silence went on and on, nagging at her ragged nerves.
'Are you sure?' Cristos asked with pronounced clarity.
His dark eyes no longer flamed gold. His gaze had grown somber. The care with which he spoke and the sudden definable edge of his Greek accent betrayed the level of the shock she had dealt him.
'Yes. I saw a doctor yesterday.' In the tense silence, Betsy dragged in a quivering breath. 'He confirmed what I already knew.'
His hard jaw line squared. 'And you chose my office as the ideal place to make such an announcement?'
A rueful little laugh fell from her lips. 'I don't know where you live when you're in London. Have you forgotten that? It really seems to say it all, doesn't it? Here I am, pregnant by a man whose address I don't even know!'
'I don't see the significance of my address.'
'I didn't think you would. You have the sensitivity of a concrete block.'
'Would you like a drink?' Cristos spoke as though she had not, his rich, dark drawl laced with excessive politeness.
Feeling cut off, Betsy reddened. 'Anything… '
'But not, of course, something alcoholic,' Cristos affixed with innate arrogance.
Rage shot through Betsy's slight frame like an adrenalin jag. Within ten seconds of learning that she was pregnant, Cristos was laying down the law with a galling air of superior authority. 'Know a lot… do you… about how to treat women in my condition?'
'Only what is common knowledge,' Cristos murmured with unimpeachable modesty.
'Well, let's hope you know more about the health issues of being pregnant than you knew about the risks of getting pregnant!' Betsy shot at him accusingly. 'So blame is to be apportioned.' Cristos raised an infuriating winged dark brow. 'Is that what you call constructive?'
It was like a red rag to a bull. 'No, it's not constructive but it expresses how I feel and that is horribly bitter and angry!' Betsy admitted. 'When we were on Mos, I trusted you. You made loads of really impressive promises. You swore you would stand by me if anything went wrong-'
'Perhaps your unfortunate experiences with other men have misled you,' Cristos murmured flatly, pressing the bell on the wall.
'What's that supposed to mean?'
'You're not used to men you can rely on-' 'Don't you dare tell me that I can rely on you!'
Betsy warned him, her incredulity at his sheer nerve unconcealed. 'Don't you dare!'
'Don't judge me without giving me a chance-' 'Don't throw Rory and one date with a kidnapper in my face!' Betsy traded fiercely. 'You do it one more time to me and I'll scream!'
'This is degenerating into a very unproductive confrontation. '
'After all, if you want to discuss my lack of judgment when it comes to men, please include yourself in that study,' Betsy slung back at him, refusing to back down. 'If you're honest, you will then see that you have caused me the most grief and the most damage. Being pregnant at this stage of my life will destroy all my future plans.'
Cristos said nothing. Her announcement had had a similar effect on him to watching a huge tidal wave wreak havoc while he stood powerless on the sidelines. Within seconds and with an immediacy that would have shaken her, for she had little faith in him, he had known what he must do and what would be the results. And the results even from a business and family point of view would be disastrous. The merger with the Rhodias clan would crash and burn at spectacular speed. The inevitable battle that would follow would be very bloody and very dirty. Share
