She nodded, still not quite understanding where he was going with this.
‘Which is why I need you to sign a non-disclosure agreement.’
The statement came as a bit of a surprise to Célia, but she would have been more than happy to agree to such a thing for the happiness of the little girl who had already begun to creep into her heart.
‘Is that all?’ she asked, half relieved that it seemed to be the case. She took a sip of wine to steady her trembling nerves.
‘No. Sadly it is not. What I need of you now, in light of the press article, is your hand in marriage.’
CHAPTER FOUR
FORTY-FIVE SECONDS LATER, Loukis was wiping at the front of his wine-covered shirt and Célia was mortified.
She didn’t think that actually happened, she’d honestly only seen it in films. But the moment Loukis had uttered his declaration, the gorgeous mouthful of wine Célia had just taken erupted in a half cough, half gasp that covered Loukis’s chest from across the table.
‘I’m so... Loukis, I...’
He cut through the air with a free hand, while the other maintained its hasty dabbing and then seemed to give up altogether. A painful blush rose on her cheeks, stinging in its intensity. Her hands were twisting around each other, as if hand-wringing was some age-old inherited act to express... Célia honestly didn’t know what to think or to feel about Loukis’s strange demand.
With a less than happy sigh, Loukis returned to his seat opposite her as if his five-hundred-dollar shirt had not been ruined and he was clearly determined to resume...negotiations?
‘You want to marry me?’ Célia asked, unable to prevent the slight trembling from affecting her voice.
‘No! Christos, no.’
The punctuation of the second denial felt borderline cruel and unnecessary.
‘We just have to be engaged, until the court awards me custody.’
Célia felt as if she were playing catch up. ‘Why would the court appoint you legal guardian over Annabelle’s mother?’
‘Because I will prove that she is deeply unsuitable to raise the child she abandoned over three years ago. You’ve already witnessed the lengths my sister has gone to in order to avoid seeing Meredith, let alone live with the woman.’
Célia couldn’t argue with that. Even though it had taken little on her part to distract the young girl, she’d clearly been upset enough to cause a great deal of fear and worry on her behalf.
‘But why do you need me?’
Loukis looked at her, clearly frustrated that she hadn’t just jumped to his demand.
‘That photo and the press furore around it will cut through every single inch of positive publicity I have spent the last few years clawing back. I have only two months until the court hearing and there is no time for damage limitation. This, as loath as I am to admit, is the only way to counter the negative impact and present to the court the exact kind of family unit they would need from me in order to grant custody.’
The headache Célia had managed to ward off earlier came back full force and struck her right between the temples. She pressed her thumbs there, ignoring the way that this seemed only to increase Loukis’s frustration.
‘I’m really not sure this is a good idea. I’m certainly not going to lie to a court judge, Loukis.’
‘What would you be lying about? We’d be engaged. That’s the truth,’ he said with a shrug as if it were that easy.
‘I would be lying by telling the judge that we plan to spend the rest of our lives together.’
‘No more than any other couple entering into marriage. The road to hell is, after all, paved with good intentions.’
His cynicism regarding the institution was, while not wholly unexpected, painstakingly obvious and for just a moment Célia felt a little sorry for him. And while she understood his attempts to indicate marriage was some form of hell, she didn’t think he was so obtuse as to not realise that the same could be said precisely of the endeavour he was suggesting himself.
‘And what about Annabelle? What would you tell her? You can’t expect a ten-year-old to lie about something like that, and nor can you expect me to lie to a ten-year-old. Loukis, please,’ she begged, ‘there must be another way.’
‘Oh, yes, absolutely. The other way is for the press to assume that you spent the night with a client. A client with a particularly sordid reputation of seducing and then abandoning all manner of women. I’m sure that would have a beneficial impact on both our reputations. I wonder how many charities would want to work with you then?’
Célia felt the colour drain from her face. ‘But it could be explained.’