The Greek Boss's Demand (9 page)

She reached out an arm. The bed was cold. Where was he? She sat up, looking over the edge of the bed, but the floor only held her own discarded clothes.

Suddenly wide awake, she jumped up and scrabbled into her robe, trying to ignore the ache of rarely used muscles. She checked the kitchen and bathroom. She kneeled on the sofa and looked through the front
curtains. But even a peek out of the front window revealed nothing but her own car in the driveway.

She looked around the room for a note or message. But there was nothing.

Nick and every trace of him had disappeared. She collapsed down onto the sofa. Some time early in the morning he'd sneaked out of her bed and out of her life.

‘You're a fool, Alex Hammond, a prize fool,' she told herself, anger replacing her shock at discovering his undercover departure. ‘How could you have fallen for that?'

After all, ever since his arrival he'd been after her to jump into bed. Now she had, and where was he? Gone. Long gone.

It was clear he'd got what he wanted.

Tears pricked at her eyes, but anger at her own actions forced them back. She sniffed. ‘A silly fool,' she repeated, heading off to the kitchen to put on the kettle. He'd conned her well and good. All that stuff about leaving any talk until tomorrow—well, he clearly wasn't interested. He'd had no intention of staying and hearing any of it. Clearly wasn't interested in her or her life. He never wanted to know—otherwise why wouldn't he have stuck around?

Now he would go back to Greece and never know about his son. Well, it would serve him right.

Alex jiggled a teabag while her teeth toyed with her bottom lip. Only that didn't solve anything. Nick still needed to know he had a son. But with Jason's
birthday tomorrow there was no way he was going to know before the event.

She flicked the teabag out into the sink and sat down at the table, trying to get her thoughts under some sort of control.

She should have insisted on telling him about Jason before they'd made love—only it had been easier not to. She hadn't taken much convincing. There was little chance he'd have wanted to make love to her after a revelation like that, and at the time that had seemed the most important thing. Amazing how your hormones could replace logic with lust.

The phone rang and she jumped. Just maybe…

But it was Tilly, confirming what time she should arrive for the party tomorrow. Alex recited the details, trying not to sound too disappointed, and briefly explained that Sofia's ‘wedding' was off. She rang off and checked the time on the wall clock, and clunked her brain out of what-ifs and back into reality.

Jason was due back after lunch. Since she'd written off yesterday she now only had a few hours to do what she needed to get done for tomorrow's holiday Monday party. She had to get moving.

T
HEY
were all there. Jason and seven of his school-friends, including Matt and Jack, took turns at slapping the
piñata
hanging from the clothesline with a broomstick while Alex and Tilly escaped inside to put the final touches to the party food.

Her parents had already called from Perth, to wish Jason happy birthday and good fortune. Alex wished they could be here, but it wasn't too long until Christmas, which would be even better.

The cake was all ready—a huge chocolate mud cake, iced to resemble a soccer ball—with eight candles positioned all around, ready to be lit at the right time. She'd take that outside when they'd finished with afternoon tea.

Alex smiled to herself as she heated the last of the sausage rolls. Everything was going so well. It was a bright day, Jason was having the time of his life and the kids were all having fun. Just perfect.

The doorbell rang as she was carrying the last of the food out to the outdoor seating on the rear verandah. She hesitated, sure all the invitees were accounted for.

‘I'll get it,' Tilly called. ‘It's probably just someone collecting money for a good cause. You go on.'

Alex smiled gratefully and backed out through the screen door, carrying her load in both hands, to be met with squeals and yells of triumph. The final blow had been delivered to the
piñata
and sweets rained out over them. Eight boys immediately dropped to the ground, scrabbling for the most booty. She couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

She heard footsteps coming through the kitchen. ‘Tilly,' she called, ‘come and see. This is too funny.'

Tilly stepped through the door. ‘It seems we have another guest.'

Alex turned, only to see Nick follow Tilly onto the verandah. Blood drained from her face to congeal in her gut. At just one glimpse of him memories of their lovemaking surged back, memories of being close, of how he'd pleasured her, how she'd pleasured him…

Everything had been so perfect. So why had he left? And why was he back? She tossed up her chin and looked from one to the other. ‘What's going on?'

Tilly scowled at her sister. ‘Hey, don't be like that. Nick just apologised for losing me the best contract I'd ever had. And he's brought Jason a present—look.'

Alex dragged her eyes down to the package he held, frowned, and then looked back to his face.

‘What are you doing here?'

‘I came to see you, as it happens, and I remembered what you'd said about your son's party. I hope you don't mind, only I don't have much time before I leave.'

‘Of course she doesn't mind,' said Tilly. ‘Lovely of him to think of Jason—don't you think, Alex?'

Alex looked at Tilly, who was smiling too encouragingly.

‘I'm sure Jason will appreciate the gesture,' she went on, and Alex could swear she could just about hear Tilly's teeth grating, forcing her to respond in the affirmative.

She swallowed and forced a bare smile to her face. ‘Thanks. I'm sure he'll be very pleased.'

She looked over to the boys, who were now busily comparing the spoils of war, and sought out her son. He was there, in the middle, and pain knifed through her heart. She stole a breath and found a new emotion filling the gouge the knife had made—exhilaration. After eight long years father and son would finally meet.

Would they like each other?

She called out to Jason and he looked up, noticing for the first time the stranger beside her. He stuffed the sweets into his pockets and ran over, looking curiously at the visitor.

‘Jason,' she said, with one hand around his waist, as he was already getting too tall to put her arm comfortably around his shoulders any more, ‘this is Mr Santos, a—colleague of mine. He wants to meet you.'

‘Pleased to meet you, Jason. Happy birthday.'

He looked up at Nick, then down at the present, and then over to his mother as if checking it was
okay. She smiled and nodded her head and he seemed to relax, shaking Nick's hand and saying hello.

‘I forgot to get a card; I hope you don't mind,' said Nick, handing over the present.

‘Nah, that's cool. Thanks, Mr Santos.'

‘Call me Nick.'

Jason looked up curiously from his unwrapping. ‘Sure—thanks, Nick.' Then his attention went back to the present. ‘Oh, cool! Guys! Check this out. Wow! A World Cup soccer ball. Who wants to have a kick?' He turned away to share his prize with his friends and then turned back. ‘Gee, thanks Mr Sa—I mean, thanks, Nick.'

Nick smiled and reached out a hand to ruffle his hair.

‘My pleasure. Go and have a kick with your friends. I hear you're pretty good. I used to play a bit myself.'

Jason looked sideways up at him. ‘You want a kick too?'

Nick nodded. ‘Sounds good to me,' he said, heading off after Jason. Before long the small backyard was full of eight kids and Nick, standing as far apart as they could get in the tiny space, kicking the ball to each other, dribbling it around the lawn, and practising headers between them. While they practised their tackling Nick was doing some pretty fancy footwork, successfully evading the kids trying to tackle him.

Alex could do nothing but stare after them, won
dering what on earth was happening. ‘Close that mouth,' Tilly suggested, ‘before some bird builds a nest in it.'

Alex looked at her. ‘Did you see that?'

‘Yep. They say boys never grow up. Looks like they're right. Now, help me get some covers for this food. I suspect afternoon tea is going to be late.'

Ten minutes later the two women sat down and watched the others play while they enjoyed a cup of coffee. Alex was glad for the chance to think. Nick had said he'd come to see her—what was that all about? Or had he remembered she wanted to talk—was that why he'd come back?

In the past day she'd tried unsuccessfully to put him out of her mind. She'd tried to come to terms with the thought she might never see him again, and yet here he was.

But in reality what chance had she had to put him out of her mind? Forty-eight hours ago they'd been in the throes of lovemaking. Just watching him made her body ache for more. Heat built up inside her and she crossed her legs, trying to suppress her growing need. It didn't seem right to think such thoughts at a child's birthday party.

Finally the players collectively decided they'd had enough. They all drifted up to the table, puffing and with sweat-spiked hair, eager for cordial and sustenance.

‘Wow,' said Jason turning to Nick as he reached for a cup, ‘where'd you learn to play like that?'

‘Back in Greece, where I grew up.'

‘You're from Greece?' He looked at his mother strangely, then focused back on Nick.
‘Kalimera,'
he said. ‘
Kalimera
, Kyrios Santos.'

Nick stopped pouring cordial into the cups held out around him. ‘
Kalimera
, Jason. You speak Greek?'

‘I'm learning at school. My teacher says we should practice whenever we meet someone from Greece.'

‘Sounds like good advice,' he said, and resumed pouring cordial. ‘Are you all learning Greek?'

A chorus of ‘no' went up, with cries of ‘French' and ‘Spanish'.

‘Why did you choose Greek, Jason?'

He shrugged as he piled up his plate with four sausage rolls, three pieces of pizza and a half-dozen cocktail frankfurters, over all of which he squeezed an unhealthy spurt of tomato sauce. ‘Mum picked it. But that's okay. I like it.'

Alex was anxious to change the subject. ‘Nick, I don't expect you want cordial. Can I get you something stronger—a beer or some wine, maybe?'

He looked at her, eyes narrowed. ‘Thanks, but cordial is fine—really.'

She shivered as his eyes bored into her. Was he working it all out? Good for him. Whatever happened he wasn't going to be able to say she had denied her son his heritage.

‘Did you two want to talk?' Tilly asked. ‘I can always look after these guys for a while. They won't be getting into much mischief with their mouths full.'

‘There's no need—'

‘We'd appreciate it—'

Tilly looked from one to the other, smiling. ‘Well, what's it to be, then?'

Alex shrugged, knowing when she was beaten and realising that the time had finally come. ‘Okay,' she said, heading into the kitchen, ‘follow me.'

‘It will be my pleasure,' she heard him say behind her, in a way that put ripples down her spine.

It was dark inside, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He'd enjoyed the determined sway of her hips as she led him into the room, and now she'd turned with her back to the kitchen sink he was enjoying the way her bust filled the soft scoop-neck T-shirt. The soft floral skirt she was wearing floated around the top of her knees, giving only a hint of the smooth legs beneath.

‘Jason seems to like his present. Thank you for that.'

He shrugged. ‘It was no trouble—seeing I crashed his party.' Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dim light he could see more clearly. He was about to lean against the kitchen table but thought better of it when he saw the soccer ball birthday cake sitting in pride of place. ‘Nice cake,' he said, though there was something about it that jagged in his mind, something not quite right.

‘I didn't expect to see you again.'

He looked up at her voice. He hadn't expected to be here. ‘No, I guess not.'

‘But we do have to talk…' She'd wanted to get her head around how she was going to introduce the subject of their son, but instead blurted out the first thing that came to mind. ‘Why did you sneak off like that?'

Good question,
he thought.
Because it was easier.
‘I thought it would be better for both of us.'

‘Well, it wasn't. I had something to tell you and you didn't give me the chance.'

‘I forgot.'

Truth was, he'd wanted out of there—fast. He'd known he'd enjoy the lovemaking, but that day had been something else. The sex had been incredible. Though it had gone beyond that. The day he'd spent with her had taken him back to a time he'd thought he'd never experience again. It had scared him, and his first reaction had been to run. That wasn't what he'd intended. He turned his eyes back to her and remembered what he'd been saying.

‘How could I not forget—in the
heat
of the moment?'

She felt it too. He could see by her widening eyes and the way her grip tightened on the counter behind. She could feel this indefinable heat that accompanied her presence.

She cleared her throat, her hands clinging to the counter in their white knuckled grip. ‘Then I'm glad you came back.'

‘What is it?' he asked, curious about what was so important, and more curious about that cake, done up like a soccer ball.

Something about it didn't seem right. He looked over at it once more and it hit him.

Breath hissed in through his teeth.

‘When is Jason's birthday?'

She looked taken aback for a second. She blinked and he saw her throat move as she swallowed. ‘Today.'

‘No,' he said, ‘not his party. His birthday.'

‘Today.'

Today!
The anniversary of Stavros's death. What kind of coincidence was that?

‘But he's seven today—correct? I thought he was seven.' Seven candles would confirm what he suspected. She'd met someone else when she'd come home and it had been his baby she'd delivered a year or so later. He indicated the cake. ‘Yet I count eight candles. Did someone make a mistake?'

She looked at him and nodded, but instead of making him relieved, the look on her face made his gut clench tighter with every dip of her head.

‘
I
made a mistake. I should have told you earlier.' She hesitated. ‘I'm sorry, Nick. Jason is your son.'

Silence, and the seconds spun out, encompassing them both as their eyes locked true to each other.

Until finally the screen door slammed and the subject of their conversation skidded to a halt in the middle of the kitchen between them.

‘Aunt Tilly says it's time for cake, before the guys have to go home.' He looked from one to the other. ‘Are you guys okay? You both look kind of funny.'

Alex roused herself first. She took a deep breath and flexed her shoulders, trying to ease the building strain. ‘Fine, Jason. We were just talking. I'll get the cake.'

‘Okay,' he said, running once more for the door. ‘Hey, guys!' he yelled before he'd cleared the door. ‘Here comes the cake.' Cheers drifted in from outside.

She moved to the table, almost in slow motion, trying to keep as far away as possible from Nick as she could.
Say something,
she screamed inside.
Say anything.
But Nick didn't move a muscle until she was leaning over the cake and then he suddenly edged her aside.

‘I'll do it,' he said in a voice that invited no argument. ‘It's about time I was allowed to do something for my son.'

He swept the cake off the table and strode outside. Alex was left following, teeth jammed into her bottom lip. He was talking, and he was at least civil. That was something, given the circumstances. But she could see he was tightly wound up, and she just prayed he wouldn't unwind right now. She still had to tell Jason after all.

She followed him out through the door and noticed Tilly's raised eyebrows at the strange procession. Nick put the cake down on the table, to delighted oohs and aahs from the boys, and looked around.

Alex held out her hand. ‘Do you want to light the candles?'

‘Thank you,' he said, his words polite but his eyes cold and damning as he took the matches from her.

Tilly looked over at her, her eyes questioning. Well? she mouthed. Alex gave a brief nod and looked away, before Tilly or anyone else might see the moisture welling there.