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The Marakaios Baby. Кейт ХьюитЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Marakaios Baby - Кейт Хьюит


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her, laying his hands flat on the desk, ‘there is no question of my not being involved.’

      ‘I know.’

      ‘And I don’t mean some weekend arrangement,’ Leo continued, knowing he meant it even though he was still reeling from her news. ‘I won’t be the kind of father who sees his child only on a Saturday afternoon.’

      ‘No,’ Margo agreed quietly. ‘I don’t want that either.’

      ‘Don’t you?’

      He gazed at her narrowly for a moment. He still didn’t understand why she was here. She hadn’t possessed enough honour to be faithful to him, so why would she care whether he knew about his own child or not?

      ‘I would have expected you to have had a termination,’ he said abruptly. ‘Or, if you wanted the child, to pass it off as this other man’s.’

      She winced at that. ‘Clearly you don’t have a very high opinion of me.’

      ‘And you think I should?’

      ‘No.’ She let out a little defeated sigh. ‘No, I don’t.’

      ‘So why didn’t you do either of those things, Margo?’

      It was the first time he’d said her name since he’d seen her again, and it caused him a sudden, surprising flash of pain. He clenched his hands into fists, then deliberately flattened them out, resting them again on his desk.

      ‘Because I am not, no matter what you think, completely without morals,’ she replied with a bit of her old spirit. ‘I want my child, and I want my child to know its father.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And more than that I want my child to have a loving, stable home. A home where it knows it’s safe, where its parents are, loving and protecting. Always.’

      Her dark brown eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire, an utter conviction.

      ‘And how,’ Leo asked after a pause, ‘do you suppose that is going to work?’

      ‘That’s the other thing I want,’ Margo said, still holding his gaze, her eyes like burning coals in her pale face. ‘I want you to marry me.’

      * * *

      In another situation, another life, Margo might have laughed at the way Leo’s expression slackened with surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that—and why would he? The last time he’d seen her she’d sent him away with a scornful rejection, told him lies of infidelity that she’d known would make him hate her. And here she was now, with a proposal of her own.

      ‘You must,’ Leo said, his voice like ice, ‘be joking.’

      ‘Do you think I’d come all the way to Greece just to make a joke?’ Margo asked quietly.

      Leo stood up, the movement abrupt. He paced in front of the window that overlooked the Marakaios olive groves, now stark and bare in winter, which produced Greece’s finest olive oil.

      ‘Your proposal,’ he said, his teeth clenched and the word a sneer, ‘is offensive.’

      ‘I mean it sincerely—’

      He cut her off, his voice now low and pulsating with fury. ‘The last time I saw you, you told me you didn’t want marriage or children.’

      She gestured to the gently swelling bump that was just barely visible under her coat. ‘Things have changed.’

      ‘Not that much. Not for me.’

      ‘Don’t you want to know your own child?’

      ‘Who says I won’t? Who says I won’t sue for custody?’

      Her stomach plunged with fear at that, but she forced herself to stay calm.

      ‘And do you think that would be in the best interest of our baby, Leo?’

      He sat back down in his chair, raking his hands through his hair. With his head lowered she could see the strangely vulnerable nape of his neck, the momentary slump of his shoulders, and everything in her ached.

      ‘I’m sorry, Leo, for springing this on you,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve thought long and hard over these last few months about what is best for our baby, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s to live in a stable home with two parents.’

      It hadn’t been an easy decision to make, but Margo’s own sorry history made her wary of going it alone as her mother had. Just like her, her mother had had no friends, no family, no safety net. And she’d lost everything.

      Margo would not subject her child to the same risk.

      He lifted his head, his eyes flashing although the set of his mouth was grim, bleak. ‘Even two parents who don’t love each other? Who have absolutely no reason whatsoever to respect or trust each other?’

      She flinched slightly. ‘I respect you, Leo.’

      ‘You’ve had a funny way of showing it, then.’

      She should tell him, Margo knew, that she’d made up the other man. Any hope of a marriage that was amicable at least was impossible with that perceived betrayal between them. But she was afraid Leo wouldn’t believe her if she told him now, and even if he did believe her he would want to know why she had told such an outrageous and damaging lie. The answer to that question was to admit her own fear, and that was something she was not ready to do.

      ‘I know you don’t respect me,’ she said.

      She clenched her hands in her lap and fought another wave of nausea. The sickness had eased a bit in the last few weeks, but she still felt as if she had to drag herself through each day.

      ‘I know you don’t trust me. I hope that maybe, in time, I can win back both your respect and your trust. But this marriage would be for the sake of our child, Leo. To give our baby the opportunity of a stable home. And even if we don’t love each other we’ll both love this child.’

      ‘So you’re willing to enter a cold, loveless union, all for the sake of a baby you professed to not even want?’

      Another deep breath and she met his gaze without a flinch. ‘Yes.’

      ‘I don’t believe you.’

      ‘Why would I be here, then?’ she asked quietly.

      ‘You want something. Are you in trouble? Did this other man throw you over? Do you need money?’

      ‘I told you before, I’m not asking for a hand-out.’

      ‘You also said,’ Leo reminded her ruthlessly, ‘that having this baby would be a struggle financially.’

      ‘A struggle, yes, but not impossible. I could do it. I’ve thought about doing it,’ she continued, determined to make him believe her, even if he didn’t—couldn’t—understand her motives. ‘I thought very hard about raising this child on my own and not even telling you I was pregnant.’

      ‘And yet you now want me to trust you?’

      ‘I didn’t choose to do that, Leo,’ Margo said, her voice rising. She strove to level it; giving in to temper now would not help her cause. ‘I knew that you needed to know, and that our child needed more. Two parents. Stability, safety—’

      ‘You don’t think you could give this child those things on your own?’

      ‘No. Not for certain. I don’t...I don’t have a lot of friends, and no family. This baby needs more than just me. He or she needs a father.’

      ‘If I am the father.’

      ‘Please...’

      She closed her eyes, waves of both nausea and fatigue crashing over here. Coming all this way, dealing with the plane and the rental car and the endless travel, had completely exhausted her.

      She summoned what little strength


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