What she didn’t know she’d learn. And if she was poor—well, that was nothing new. With hard work and maybe some assistance she’d be able to provide for the child.
She reached the glass doors of a sleek building, checked the address and strode in, not giving herself time to hesitate. Soon after, she arrived at one of the top floors.
The doors opened onto a beautifully appointed reception room. All muted tones, expensive furniture and just a touch of flamboyance in the artful arrangement of exotic orchids and the vast seascape that dominated one charcoal wall.
Maybe it was the art, maybe the quiet air of comfort, but Alice felt the jitters in her stomach ease. She drew her first full breath since she’d begun the five block walk from the underground.
‘Ms Trehearn?’ A neatly dressed woman approached.
Alice nodded. ‘That’s me.’
‘Won’t you take a seat? Mr Petrakis will see you soon. In the meantime would you like tea or coffee?’
‘Nothing, thanks.’ Nausea had dogged her since she’d got out of bed in the early hours, for the long train trip from the West Country to London. She’d wait till this was over then find somewhere for a nice, refreshing cup of tea.
By the time the receptionist approached again Alice had skimmed four magazines and memorised the painted scene before her.
Had Adoni deliberately kept her waiting? But why? He didn’t need to prove a point. She already knew he was powerful and wealthy. She’d done some homework on him. What she’d learned had made it seem as if that evening in his hotel suite was an illusion. What did she have in common with one of Europe’s most eligible self-made billionaires?
Sex. That was all.
And now a baby.
The thought calmed the drifts of butterflies in her middle and she smiled at the receptionist’s apologies over her long wait.
It didn’t matter that Adoni had been heir to one of the world’s wealthiest ship owners. Or that he’d been estranged from his family in circumstances no one quite understood. Or that he’d since made his fortune with a software company that grew above market expectations.
Adoni was just a man. Together they’d made a baby. That made them equals in the ways that counted.
If she kept telling herself that she might just get through the next half-hour!
Her first thought on entering his spacious office was that he looked as scrumptious by daylight as he did at night. Though stern, as if he’d just received bad news.
Alice felt a pang of regret. She remembered the conspiratorial smile that had turned his face from sombre and a little haughty to blindingly attractive and beckoningly approachable.
Approachable he was not.
Adoni Petrakis was back to being Ares, god of war. He stood by the window, light slanting across proud, arrogantly handsome features. His thin lips were flat and his nostrils pinched as if against some unpleasant odour.
Alice refused to be intimidated, even though it meant squashing the urge to spin round on her heel and head back out the way she’d come.
This wasn’t about her. This was about her child. Their child. She had an obligation to the baby and to Adoni, even if he looked at her as if he’d never seen her before.
Or as if he didn’twantto see her.
That thought was acid, eating at her composure.
Deliberately she pushed her shoulders back. She’d learned that if she pretended to be strong, even when she was falling apart inside, she could get through most things, one step at a time.
Keep telling yourself that, Alice.
She made herself pace across the room in her freshly polished and only pair of high heels. She ignored the visitor’s chair in front of the vast, almost bare desk. She wasn’t an employee, here to receive instructions from on high. Instead she skirted the desk and walked right up to him.
Was that surprise flickering in his ocean-bright eyes?
Tucked up in her narrow bed in Devon, she’d told herself she’d embellished his good looks. But, staring up into those remarkable eyes, she realised she’d embellished nothing, except perhaps his friendliness.
‘You’re not pleased to see me.’ She stopped before him, linking her hands to stop them fidgeting under his steady regard.