But as she looked at Hans’s shining face, she knew she couldn’t be that cruel. She couldn’t destroy his illusions and ruin his life by letting him love her. Not when she knew she’d never love him—or any man—ever again.
Holly took a deep breath. It was hard, because she feared she’d lose his friendship. “I’m sorry, but you have to know—”
“Holly.” The voice behind her was low and sensual. “Won’t you introduce me to your friend?”
She turned with an intake of breath.
Stavros stood in the middle of the Christmas market, taller than anyone in the crowd, darkly handsome and powerful in his well-cut suit and cashmere coat. Her mouth went dry.
“What are you doing here?” she choked out. “I thought you were on your way back to New York—”
“Why would I leave?” Stavros’s gaze fell longingly to the baby in the stroller. “When my son is here?”
“Freddie is your son?” Hans stammered.
He turned with a sharp-toothed smile. “Freddie?” He lifted a sardonic eyebrow. “Yes. I’m his father.” He extended his black-gloved hand. “You are?”
“Hans... Hans Müller.” Shaking Stavros’s hand, he nervously glanced at Holly. “I didn’t know Freddie had a father. No, of course, I know everyone has a father. That is to say...”
He looked around helplessly.
“Indeed,” Stavros said, his expression amused. Then he looked at Holly. “We need to talk.”
“I have nothing else to say to you,” she said stonily. “I’m here with Hans. I’m not going to be rude and—”
But the young man was already backing away from the powerful, broad-shouldered tycoon. “It’s all right—you both have things to talk about. He’s your baby’s father.” He looked at Holly reproachfully beneath his warm hat. “You should have told me.”
“I’m sorry...” Her mouth went dry. “I never meant to...”
Hans lightly touched the top of the baby’s dark head, then said softly, “Auf wiedersehen.”
And sadly, Hans disappeared into the crowd.
Stavros said behind her, “That’s the man you replaced me with?”
Holly whirled on him. “He’s a friend! Nothing more!”
“He wanted more.” Stavros looked down at the baby bundled up in a blanket, sucking drowsily on his pacifier. Kneeling beside the stroller, he tenderly stroked the baby’s plump cheek. “My son,” he whispered. “I am here. I’m your father, Freddie.”
Against her will, she felt a violent twist in her heart. She took a deep breath. “Why did you come back? I told you! We don’t want you here!”
Rising to his feet, Stavros glanced to the right and left. From the sweet-smelling bakery stall next door, Holly saw Gertrud watching them with a frown.
Taking her arm with one hand and the stroller handle with the other, Stavros escorted her to a quiet spot on the other side of the massive, brightly decorated Christmas tree. His black eyes were cold. “Fine. You hate me. You don’t care that I was dying. You don’t want my money or anything to do with me.”
“Exactly,” she replied, pushing aside her feelings at the thought of him dying.
“Hating me doesn’t give you the right to keep my son from me.” Stavros looked down at the bundled-up baby, drowsing in the stroller as he sucked on his pacifier. “And whatever you say, I won’t abandon him.”
A chill went through her. “It’s not your choice.”
He smiled. “Ah, but it is,” he said softly. “I’m his father. That means I have the right to be in his life. And I’m going to be. From now on.”
She had no idea why he was pretending to care about Freddie. Out of a misguided sense of pride? Or just to hurt her?
But either way, he was correct. He did have rights, if he chose to fight for them. Fear gripped her heart as she faced him. “What do you intend to do?”
Stavros’s expression was like ice. “I’m going to marry you, Holly.”