‘Well?’ Sidonie demanded, hands on hips. ‘Aren’t you going to say something?’
Alexio’s gaze narrowed on her and he realised he wanted to say plenty—but most of it involved his mouth being on Sidonie’s. And then his gaze travelled down and he saw the small proud bump evident under her light jacket and the black clingy top she wore. Something within him seemed to break apart. Crumble.
Her hand went there automatically, as if to protect the child, and Alexio felt incensed at that. He thought of the recent revelation of the existence of his oldest half-brother and how his mother had kept him a dirty secret. After abandoning him. Would Sidonie have kept this child from him?
Finally he found his voice, and it was accusing. ‘Why didn’t you come to me?’
Sidonie let out a small mirthless laugh and backed away a step. Standing this close to Alexio was hazardous to her mental health and to her libido, which had decided to come out of its ice-like state.
She’d been dreadfully sick for the first trimester of her pregnancy but thankfully that had stopped and she was finally beginning to feel human again. She did not welcome this resurgence of a desire she had no control over.
Alexio was looking increasingly explosive as the news sank in and Sidonie felt a twinge of conscience. She recalled her own shock at finding out about the pregnancy, four weeks after she’d come back to Paris and with no sign of her period.
She crossed her arms tightly. ‘You really think I would come to you with this news after you accused me of being a gold-digger? After you judged and tried me—after you had meinvestigatedlike a common criminal?’
Alexio flushed. ‘Why did you agree with me, then, and let me believe that you set out to seduce me?’
Sidonie’s arms tightened. ‘I told you the truth, but you weren’t interested in listening. Would you have believed me if I’d insisted on protesting my innocence?’
Remembering the excoriating feeling of betrayal was acute. Sidonie’s emotions were rising and she knew she was too tired to hide them. She stood back and gestured to the door.
‘I’d like you to leave now, please. I have to be up early.’
Alexio’s eyes widened; his nostrils flared. He looked huge and intimidating, and Sidonie hated the impulse she had to run into his arms and beg him to hold her. She gritted her jaw and avoided his eyes.
Silkily he said, ‘You expect me to just walk away?’
Sidonie nodded. ‘Yes, please. We have nothing to discuss. You found me, I’m pregnant—end of story. You have nothing else to do here. Please go.’
Alexio’s voice was tight with anger. ‘We have plenty to discuss if I am your child’s father. And you still haven’t told me why you didn’t take the money.’
Sidonie rounded on him again, eyes blazing, two spots of pink in each cheek. ‘I didn’t take your damn money, Christakos, because I wasn’t interested in your money. I wasn’t then and I’m not now.’
Emotion was getting the better of Sidonie, rising, making her shake.
‘I will never forgive you for going behind my back and prying into my life. You had no right to judge me on the basis of something my mother did years ago. She paid that due,Ipaid that due, and so did my father. I want nothing to do with you and I wish I’d never laid eyes on you.’
She turned and went to the door, opened it.
Without looking at Alexio she said, ‘I have to be up in five hours. Get out or I’ll call the police and tell them you’re harassing me.’
Alexio made some sort of sound—half anger, half frustration. To Sidonie’s everlasting relief, though, he came to the door. She didn’t look at him.
He said, with deadly precision, ‘This isn’t over, Sidonie. We need to talk.’
‘Get out, Alexio.’ Sidonie’s voice had an edge of pleading to it that she hated. But finally he left.
For three days Sidonie had refused to talk to Alexio. She stonewalled him if he was waiting for her to come out of the hotel. She walked in the opposite direction if he was there when she emerged from the café. And at night she was tight-lipped if he offered her a lift for the short distance to the apartment after finishing her shift in the Moroccan restaurant.
Alexio seethed with frustration. He was getting her message loud and clear. She wanted nothing to do with him. She preferred working herself into a lather doing menial jobs rather than turn to him for help. But Alexio had had enough. He’d already set things in motion. Sidonie was pregnant with his child and that changed everything. As he’d watched her for the past three days the knowledge had sunk in more and more.
He needed to talk to her, though. And even though she looked half dead with exhaustion Alexio’s body burned for her. Even now, from his car, where he was parked outside the restaurant, he let his gaze rake her up and down, taking in the black skirt, sheer tights and black top. The apron that barely disguised the growing swell of her belly.His baby.
In the past few days he’d had time for the news of the baby to sink in, and much to his surprise he’d found himselfnotfeeling as trapped as he might have expected. Instead he felt a fledgling sense of excitement, wonder.
He thought of his nephew Milo and wondered if he’d have a son too—precocious and cute like him. Or a daughter, like Sidonie, with golden hair? When he imagined that he felt a tightening sensation in his chest so strong he had to take deep breaths to ease it.
She was serving a big table of men now, and she plucked the pen out from where she’d stuck it into the bun on the top of her head. She looked tired and harassed. Pale.
