Was Natalie right?
Instead of being the one who’d saved and supported her family, had Anna been the cause of its ruin?
It was true that she’d never really stood up to Victor. He’d made passes at her, and Anna hadn’t known how to deal with his flirtations, so she’d simply put up with them. She’d never told him flat-out to leave her alone. When they’d gotten to be too much, she’d run away to work for Nikos.
And as for Nikos... She’d known his faults, but she’d still fallen in love with him. She should have been more careful. Especially about jumping into his bed. What had she been thinking to allow herself to conceive a child with a man who not only wasn’t her husband but didn’t even love her?
The closed office door stared down at her reproachfully.
Turning away with a heavy heart, she went to the nursery, where Misha was still napping in his crib. She gently picked him up and cuddled him in the rocking chair. Tears filled her eyes as she stared out the window at the pool, where for a brief time that morning she’d felt like she was part of a happy family.
How could she fix everything she’d done wrong?
How could she make things right?
The one thing she couldn’t do was ask Nikos—or anyone—for help. Natalie was right. Anna had caused this mess. She was the one who should take care of it. Alone.
Closing her eyes, she held her baby as she rocked back and forth. It was time to face reality.
Misha shouldn’t suffer just because Anna had such a hard time being around his father. No matter how much she wanted to return to New York, she couldn’t. She had to live close enough to Nikos that they could raise their son together. Misha deserved that much.
But she wouldn’t marry Nikos either. She’d been careless enough to get pregnant, but she wouldn’t make it worse by marrying him. She’d be miserable as his wife, committing herself to a man who didn’t even love her.
Anna would share parenting with Nikos, but that was it. She needed her own place. Her own life. Her own job.
She sat up straight in her chair as her eyes flew open.
She’d get Nikos to rehire her.
It was the perfect solution. She’d be able to travel with him around the world, so Misha would always see them both. Plus, working as his executive assistant was not only the best job she’d ever had, he’d also paid her a high salary that would be virtually impossible to find anywhere else. Enough so that she could set up a payment plan with Victor, which she’d force him to take.
It might be difficult to see Nikos every day, no doubt watching him date other women, but she’d deal with it. She would take responsibility for the choices she’d made.
Misha gave a little sigh. Opening his dark eyes, so much like his father’s, he smiled up at her. Anna smiled back.
All she had to do was convince Nikos to hire her as his secretary—while keeping herself from falling into his arms—and everything else would fall into place.
It wouldn’t be easy, but, hey—Nikos had asked for her help weeding out unsuitable résumés. She grinned. She’d pretend to go through them while taking over the secretarial job herself. She’d lull Nikos into complacency while she proved she could both work and be a good mother to his child. She’d prove to them both that she wasn’t a screwup. She’d prove she could do it all.
* * *
“What’s wrong with this one?” Nikos demanded, exasperated. “Carmen Ortega has thirty years of experience working with CEOs of billion-dollar companies!”
“Those companies had shareholders,” Anna said sweetly, tossing the résumé in the trash. “She’s accustomed to toeing the line for many bosses instead of sticking to one. Too many cooks, you know.”
No, he didn’t. He had no idea what she was talking about. Nine days of looking through résumés, and Anna had found fault with every single one. But, since he’d asked specifically for her assistance, he had no choice but to continue this farce until he could get Anna to fall in love with him.
It was proving to be harder than he’d thought.
His plan had been to lure her with romantic dinners, gifts, and family outings. Instead, work had somehow taken over. She’d turned the romantic dinners into working meals, taking notes in shorthand between dainty bites of Cavaleri’s pasta primavera and pad thai. When he’d given her flowers and chocolates, she’d thanked him gravely for remembering Secretaries’ Day. Secretaries’ Day! As if there was any damn way he’d remember some made-up holiday like that!
The family outings with baby Michael, including splashing in the pool, taking walks along the edge of the desert, and strolling through L’Hermitage, had certainly been enjoyable. Nikos had relished holding his son as they walked across the casino floor, through the Moskva Shopping Complex and into the elegant, soaring lobby of the turn-of-the-century-styled hotel. “This will all be yours someday,” he’d whispered into his son’s ear, and he’d been filled with pride.
But, though Anna seemed glad that he was learning to be a father, she didn’t seem at all inclined to fall at his feet for that alone.
At least the time had made a difference at his home office. The piled-up papers were gone, sorted and filed. His appointments had already been reorganized to better suit his schedule, with no more double-bookings. In nine short days Anna had mended Lindsey’s ineptitude with efficiency and poise.
He looked around his office. A man could get used to this, he thought with satisfaction. Then he stopped himself cold. No, he couldn’t get used to this. He couldn’t let himself. After the ten days were over Anna would return to full-time motherhood. Her place was at home, in luxury and comfort, raising their son.
It had been nice working from home for the last week, though, instead of going to his office at the casino as usual. He’d seen a lot of Michael, too, since Anna was still feeding him every three hours. She usually had him in the office with them for much of the afternoon. Right now the baby was in the nursery, taking his afternoon nap, but just a few moments ago he’d been lying on a mat on the floor, batting at the dangling toys of his playgym while he gurgled and laughed. Remembering, a smile formed on Nikos’s lips.
He shook himself. What kind of work environment was this? In spite of Anna’s organization, his work habits were slipping. His usual sixteen- or eighteen-hour days just weren’t possible when he was constantly being distracted by the laughter of his son and the gorgeous vision of Anna in a slim-fitting white shirt and black pencil skirt, crossing her killer legs while she took dictation.
No, he had to stick to his plan. Anna would be free of the burden of work, and he’d find some other secretary. He’d make do for the sake of his son having a happy childhood, and return to his eighteen-hour work days. He’d shown his son the empire that would soon be his; he couldn’t slack off on the job now.
But he was leaving tomorrow. He only had tonight to make Anna fall for him before he left for Singapore, and, while he still believed he’d achieve his goal, it might be time to get creative. He’d soon have no choice but to...ugh...talk more about feelings. He had no idea how to do that, but he’d improvise. How hard could it be? He’d talk about his childhood. Didn’t women swoon over stories of poverty and misery?
“What are you doing?” he asked, suddenly distracted by the vision of Anna’s sweet backside in the form-fitting black skirt as she knelt near the trash can and leaned forward on her hands. Wild images went through him.
“This must have bounced off the rim.” She picked up the crumpled résumé from the floor, then spotted something behind the can. Nikos groaned inwardly as she saw the pale blue envelope that he’d tossed there early this morning.
Leaning back on her haunches, she picked it up and read the envelope. “It’s postmarked from Greece.”
Nikos grabbed a new résumé. “Have you looked at this one?”
She refused to be distracted, and held the blue envelope a little higher. “When did you get this letter?”
“Yesterday,” he said, grinding his teeth.
She pushed back a long tendril that had escaped from her sleek chignon. “It hasn’t been opened, but it was in the trash.”
“And your point is?”
“Aren’t you going to read it?”
“I think my actions are self-explanatory.”
“But if your father’s widow wrote all the way from Greece to try to mend the breach in your family...”
“There is no breach, because there is no family,” he said shortly. “My father meant nothing to me, and now he’s dead, so why should I care about his widow? She can write me or not. That is her choice. I’m perfectly capable of throwing her letters in the trash without your advice.”
He still remembered all too well the first letter he’d received from the Greek woman. She’d broken the news of his father’s death, and informed him that he’d left Nikos a share in his shipping business—the same shipping business that Nikos had tried to crush as an adult. Worse, she’d told him that his father had been the secret investor who had helped Nikos create Stavrakis Resorts. His father had been the one to help Nikos build his very first hotel.