When Christakos Meets His Match

CHAPTER TEN


SIDONIE SAT IN her seat, legs tucked up beneath her, and looked out of the small oval window of the plane. A faint heat haze shimmered off the tarmac outside. She felt bad about leaving her aunt behind, even if she had assured Sidonie she was fine. She was going to Dublin to enquire about getting back onto the college programme for her final year.

But then she felt the flutters in her belly and panic gripped her. How could she be thinking of going back to college when she was due to have her baby before Christmas? Tears pricked her eyes. She cursed her impetuousness. She hadn’t really thought this through at all. She’d just wanted to get far away from Paris and Alexio’s ongoing mistrust before he reduced her to rubble.

She couldn’t believe she’d left herself wide open to his cynicism again.

She heard the sound of the air hostess saying, ‘Your seat, sir.’

Sidonie’s heart stopped for a moment and she looked around. An incredible sense of disappointment lanced her when she saw a small, very rotund man, sweating profusely, taking off his jacket before he sat down. She looked away, cursing herself again. What had she been hoping for? For history to repeat itself and Alexio to turn up when she wasn’t even on one of his planes?

Sidonie choked back the tears and told herself that she was the biggest idiot on earth for letting her defences down so spectacularly. She bundled up her sweatshirt and put it under her head against the window, hoping to block everything out—including the take-off and landing and disturbing images of a cynical expression that softened only in passion.

* * *

‘I’m sorry, sir, I’m afraid we’ve made a mistake with your seat. I’ll have to move you.’

Sidonie woke up and blinked, surprised to see that they were in the air and she’d missed the take-off. Then she recalled why she was so tired and scowled at the memory. The air hostess was helping the man beside her out of his seat and apologising profusely while he complained vociferously.

Sidonie didn’t mind. His elbow had been digging into her, and if no one else sat down she could—

‘Is this seat taken?’

Sidonie stopped dead in the act of laying out her sweatshirt on the seat beside her as a pillow. She went hot and then cold. She looked up.

Alexio. In a dark suit and shirt. Looking dishevelled and a little wild.

In a daze, half wondering if she might be hallucinating, she said, ‘Well, I was hoping that it would stay empty.’

Alexio grimaced. ‘I’m sorry, it would appear that all the seats are taken. This is the only one left.’

Sidonie lifted up her sweatshirt and held it to her like protection. She tried to ignore the jump in her pulse at the way Alexio slipped off his jacket and sat down, infusing the small space with his scent and magnetism. The sense of déjà vu was heady.

Her eyes narrowed on him. She was wide awake now. ‘How did you know where I was?’ And then she answered herself. ‘Tante Josephine.’

Alexio’s mouth quirked but the smile didn’t reach his eyes and for the first time Sidonie saw something in their depths she’d never seen before: nervousness. It made her pulse leap even more.

‘Yes.’

Sidonie shook her head and tried to stave off the emotional pain of seeing him again—especially here. ‘What do you want, Alexio?’

He shrugged minutely and looked tortured, and then he said, ‘You...and our daughter.’

Sidonie fought back the tears and bit her lip before saying, ‘I know you do. You feel a duty, a sense of responsibility...but it’s not enough. I won’t be that woman who takes from you just because you’re the father of my child. And you don’t trust me...’

Alexio’s eyes burned fiercely now. He angled his body towards Sidonie, cocooning her from the rest of the plane. He took her hand and she could feel his trembling slightly. It stopped her from pulling back.

‘I do trust you, Sid...Sidonie...’


Sidonie’s heart clenched at the way he’d corrected himself.

His grip on her hand tightened. ‘I do. I should never have said what I said earlier. It was stupid and I’m an ass. I didn’t mean it for a second. It was a reflex. I was still clinging on to the last tiny piece of my cynical soul because I was too scared to let my past go... I was nine when my mother told me not to believe in love, that it was a fairytale. I watched her and my father annihilate each other all my life... I thought that was normal. I always chose women who were emotionally aloof...who demanded nothing. Because I had nothing to give. And then I met you, and for the first time I wanted more.’

His mouth twisted with self-recrimination.

‘And yet at the first opportunity I chose to mistrust you, and then I turned my back on you...telling myself that I’d been a fool to expect anything more.’

Feeling shaky and light-headed, Sidonie said, ‘That phone call was very bad luck...’

Alexio’s mouth was still tight. ‘But I gave you no chance to defend yourself—and why would you want to after I’d had you investigated like a common criminal?’

Sidonie wanted to touch his jaw but she held back. This moment felt very fragile. ‘I can’t escape the fact that my mother was a criminal. That’s pretty damning, even if you hadn’t overheard me talking to Tante Josephine. That’s partly why I agreed with you when you asked if I’d set out to seduce you once I knew who you were... I felt it was hopeless...’

‘The last four months have felt pretty hopeless.’ Alexio’s voice was bleak.

Sidonie said quietly, ‘You were the first person I’d trusted in a really long time—if ever—and you hurt me...’

Contrition made Alexio’s face look old all of a sudden. He went grey. ‘I know. And I don’t expect you to forgive me... But I wanted to tell you something.’

Sidonie looked at him and her belly hollowed out. ‘What?’

His hand tightened on hers. His voice was so rough and his accent so strong that she almost couldn’t make out what he was saying.

‘I’ve fallen in love with you.’

His words dropped between them. Sidonie struggled to believe she hadn’t dreamt them up.

He smiled, and it was almost sad. ‘I think I fell for you on that plane...’ His smile faded. ‘If you give me a chance I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you...’

Sidonie shrank back, pulling her hand free. She shook her head, everything within her trying to dampen down the incredibly sweet swelling of joy. The fall would be too great if—

‘You can’t mean it...you’re just saying that.’

Alexio looked fierce and affronted. ‘I’ve never, ever said that to another woman and I never intend to.’

Sidonie felt a mix of tears and laughter vying for supremacy. But still she couldn’t afford to believe. Visions of her stepfather’s sad face came back to haunt her. Sad because he’d loved his wife his whole life when she hadn’t loved him. Even though he’d sacrificed so much to be there for her. Alexio was saying this...but he couldn’t love her as much as she loved him.

‘You don’t...don’t mean it,’ she got out, too scared to hope for even a second.

Alexio reached for her and put his hands on the bottom of her top, pulling it up to reveal her belly. Sidonie squeaked with shock, but before she could stop him Alexio was putting his big hands on her, spanning the small compact swell, and he was bending down, his mouth close to her bump, saying with a none too steady voice, ‘Belle...I’m doing my best, here, to convince your mother that I love her and trust her and want to spend the rest of my life with her...and you...but it’s not going so well. I don’t think she believes me.’

Sidonie felt a very definite kick then—the first proper kick apart from the flutters. In shock, her eyes wide, she watched as Alexio came back up, his hands still on her belly.

There was a look of wonder on his face. ‘I felt that...’

And then the look cleared, to be replaced with one of determination.

‘Belle is clearly on my side. It’s two against one.’

Sidonie couldn’t prevent the tears from clogging her throat and flooding her eyes. She was overwhelmed by Alexio’s hands on her belly, the baby kicking for the first time...him saying he loved her.

But she ignored all that for a moment and choked out, ‘I thought you said we couldn’t call her Belle...’

Alexio smiled, and this time it looked slightly less nervous. ‘It’s growing on me—and Tante Josephine will never forgive me if we call her something else. But next time it’s my choice.’

‘Next time?’ Sidonie choked out through even more tears.

Alexio was just a blur now, and his hands left her belly to come up and cup her face, thumbs wiping at her tears.

‘Next time...if you’ll have me,’ he said gently, ‘And the next time and the next time...’

And then his mouth was on hers and Sidonie was shaking too much to do anything but submit and allow herself the first sliver of belief that this was real and that Alexio meant what he was saying.

When he pulled back Sidonie’s mouth tingled. His hands were still on her jaw, cupping her face. She looked into his eyes, searching, and all she could see there was pure...emotion. For the first time. No shadows. No cynicism.

She took a deep shaky breath. ‘Alexio...’

‘Yes...?’

‘I love you too...even though you really hurt me. I fell for you when we first met and I never stopped. I’m still falling. Every time I look at you. I told myself I hated you...but I couldn’t.’

Alexio’s hands tightened around her and his gaze grew suspiciously bright. ‘You love me?’

Sidonie wanted to take a snapshot of this moment. Alexio Christakos, multi-billionaire and playboy. Arrogance and confidence personified. Eyes shining with tears, doubting her word.

She reached up to touch his face, feeling the spiky prickle of his stubble. He was a different man from the one who had so coolly laid out his plan that morning. He’d been hiding all this emotion. Suppressing it.

‘Of course I love you. I love you so much that I’m terrified I love you more than you love me.’

Alexio just looked at her for a long moment and shook his head, smiling a little ruefully. ‘Not possible, I’m afraid. You’re getting the full force of years and years of repressed loving and then some more...’

He reached into his pocket for something, and pulled out a small black box. Sidonie looked down at it and back up.

Alexio looked nervous again. ‘Sid... Sidonie...’

‘No...’ she said urgently, and then, more shyly, ‘I like it when you call me that... I just... I was angry...’

She could see the pain in his eyes at that and she touched his jaw. Alexio dragged his gaze away and opened the box. Sidonie looked down and gasped when she saw a stunning heart-shaped diamond ring glittering up at her. Alexio took the ring out of the box. He took her left hand in his and looked at her so deeply that he took her breath away and made fresh tears well.

Looking endearingly unlike himself, palpably nervous, he asked, ‘Will you marry me, Sidonie Fitzgerald?’

The tears overflowed and fell. Sidonie couldn’t speak. She was too overcome.

Suddenly Alexio disappeared again, down towards her bump, and she heard him say, ‘Belle, I’ve just asked—’

Alexio yelped when Sidonie grabbed his hair and pulled him back up.

‘Yes!’ She looked at him. ‘Yes...’ she said again, framing his face with her hands. ‘I’ll marry you, Alexio.’

Alexio kissed the palm of her hand and then took it in his again, to slide the ring onto her finger. ‘I had a jeweller meet me at the plane and I picked that one out because it reminded me of your pure heart...but I can change it...’

Sidonie shook her head, looking at the ring glinting at her. ‘No..’ She felt more tears coming after what he’d just said. ‘I love it...and it’s really glittery.’

Alexio pulled her in close. ‘I’ll give you glittery things for the rest of our lives...’

Sidonie stiffened and pulled back, making Alexio frown.

‘No... I don’t want anything from you, Alexio... I mean it. I know you say you trust me, but I don’t want you to ever doubt that I want nothing from you except you. I won’t marry you until I can sign something that says I’m not after you for your money.’

Alexio sighed. ‘Sid, don’t be ridiculous.’

Sidonie pulled away and dragged her top down over her bump. She shook her head again and crossed her arms. ‘No marriage unless you agree.’

Sidonie saw Alexio’s eyes slide down to her bump and she put a hand over it.

‘And no more cutesy manipulation of our daughter before she’s even born.’

Alexio rolled his eyes heavenward and then threw up his hands. ‘Okay—fine.’

His eyes glinted with determination then and he reached for her, pulling her into him so tightly that she didn’t know where she ended and he began. Sidonie slid her arms around his waist and snuggled against him. They rested like that for a long moment, the calm after the storm.


‘Sid?’

‘Hmm?’

‘Are you going to sleep?’

Sidonie nodded her head against Alexio’s chest and said sleepily, happily, ‘It’s those hormones again. I have a feeling you’re going to be keeping me up late, so I should really nap now. And also pregnant women shouldn’t be subjected to too much excitement—it takes it out of us.’

She felt Alexio tense slightly and heard his affronted, ‘What happened last night was more than hormones and you know it. Luckily we have the rest of our lives for me to prove it to you...’

The rest of our lives...

Sidonie smiled and moved closer to Alexio, deeper into his embrace, and he moved slightly so that he could put a possessive hand over her belly, setting off a chain reaction of desire.

‘Okay,’ she admitted sheepishly, lifting her head to look at him. ‘Maybe it wasn’t just pregnancy hormones...’

Alexio cupped her jaw with his hand and looked down at her. ‘Excuse my French in front of Belle,’ he said with a wicked smile, ‘but damn right it wasn’t.’


Two days later, Dublin

‘Now I just want to make absolutely sure I haven’t missed any loopholes or sneaky amendments. This was all drawn up very quickly because my fiancé has arranged our marriage for two weeks’ time in Paris.’

Sidonie ignored the snort of insult from the man pacing the solicitor’s office. She smiled sweetly at Mr Keane, who looked as if he was having trouble holding back nervous hysterics. No doubt he hadn’t expected to see one of the world’s foremost self-made billionaires in his office, never mind in this position.

Sidonie went on. ‘Is it absolutely clear that if we divorce—’

‘There will never be a divorce,’ came the fierce pronouncement.

Sidonie rolled her eyes at the solicitor and then looked at her fiancé.

‘Well, of course now we don’t think there’ll be a divorce, but you never know what will happen in life and I want to make sure that if and when such a time comes I walk away with not a cent of your fortune.’

Sidonie felt absolutely sure that there would be no divorce either, but it wasn’t a bad thing to keep an alpha male like Alexio on his toes.

Alexio was bristling. He stalked over and put his hands down on the desk to glare at Sidonie. The intensity of that glare was diminished somewhat by the way he looked at her mouth so hungrily.

‘There will not be a divorce while there is breath in my body.’

Sidonie stretched up and pressed a kiss to Alexio’s cheek, causing his expression to turn positively nuclear. ‘Well, we have to get married first, of course. Don’t get all excited.’

She turned and smiled again at the very flushed-looking solicitor. ‘So, in the event of a divorce any children will be provided for, and custody arrangements have been outlined, but I will get nothing—is that right?’

The solicitor ran a pudgy finger underneath his collar, his gaze flicking uneasily to the man who all but towered over his pregnant fiancée. Having had a lot of experience with pregnant women, thanks to his own healthy brood of seven children, he figured the lesser of two evils right now was Alexio Christakos, even if he was paying his bill and practically had steam coming out of his ears.

‘Yes, that’s exactly it, Miss Fitzgerald.’

‘And ninety per cent of the money that Mr Christakos is insisting on giving me as an allowance has been designated to the various charities I mentioned?’

The solicitor quickly scanned the pages again and said, ‘Yes, I believe so.’

‘Great!’

Sidonie reached over and took the pen and signed her name with a flourish. Then she smiled sweetly at Alexio and handed the pen to him. He signed on the line with much unintelligible muttering under his breath.

* * *

Two weeks later a radiant and glowing Sidonie walked down the aisle of the biggest mairie in Paris on the arm of her matron of honour—her aunt, who grinned from ear to ear and was resplendent in a lavender suit. It had been bought by Alexio, who had grumbled that at least he could lavish gifts on someone.

Alexio hadn’t had to turn and see Sidonie arrive. He’d already been waiting impatiently for her to appear.

He was still unprepared, though, when she did. His breath caught and he couldn’t stop the tears clogging his throat and making his eyes shine. He’d been holding his emotions back all his life and now they overflowed. And he loved it. He’d even been oblivious to his brother Rafaele’s smug welcome to the club look.

Sidonie’s hair was half up, half down, held in place with a plain diamond art deco clip. She wore no other jewellery apart from her engagement ring. Her dress was strapless and had an empire line under her bust to accommodate her growing bump. The off-white material fell in loose, unstructured folds to the floor. Her skin glowed, and as she came closer, her eyes fixed on his, his heart almost stopped at the sheer strength of his love all over again.

He held out his hand to her and she put hers in his and smiled at him. At that moment Alexio felt all the pieces of his life slide into place, and he drew the love of his life forward by his side and hoped that they could get to the kiss as fast as possible.

* * *

Outside the office of the mairie afterwards, Cesar da Silva thrust his hands into his pockets. It had been a mistake to come. He didn’t know what had got into him, but that morning he’d seen the invitation to Alexio’s wedding on his desk and something had compelled him to make the journey to Paris from Spain.

He’d arrived late and stood at the back of the civil office. Alexio and his wife had had their backs to him as the ceremony was conducted, but he’d seen his other half-brother, Rafaele, near the front, holding a small boy high in his arms, with a dark-haired woman beside him, her arm around his waist. His wife.

He’d been invited to their wedding too, just months before, but the rage within him had still been too fierce for him even to contemplate it. The rage he’d felt at finally coming face to face with his half-brothers at his mother’s funeral. The rage he’d felt at the evidence that she’d loved them above him. That she hadn’t abandoned them.

But he knew it wasn’t their fault. Whatever the stain had been on Cesar’s personality that had led their mother to leave him behind had nothing to do with them. Maybe, he surmised cynically, they were just more lovable.

God knew, he’d felt dark for so long he was constantly surprised that people didn’t run in terror when they looked into his eyes and saw nothing light. But they didn’t run. And especially not women. It seemed the darker he felt, the stronger the draw to his lovers. More than one had been under the erroneous impression that they could heal Cesar of the darkness in his soul.

He wasn’t surprised at women’s eagerness to put up with his less than sunny nature; after all he was one of the richest men in the world. His mother had taught him that lesson very early on. After cutting Cesar from her life like a useless appendage she’d gone on to feather her nest in fine style—first with an Italian count and then, after he’d lost everything, a Greek tycoon.

He could see Rafaele putting his son down now—an adorable-looking little boy. His nephew. Cesar felt it like a punch to his gut. He’d been about the same age when his mother had left him with his grandparents and everything had gone dark and cold. To see that small boy now, swinging between his parents’ hands, was almost too much to bear.

And then his youngest half-brother Alexio emerged from the mairie’s office with his new wife. His pregnant wife. More new life unfolding.

The pain in Cesar’s chest increased. They were beaming. Eyes only on each other. Besotted. Cesar could feel his blackness spreading out...infecting the people around him like a virus. He caught one or two double-takes. People were wary around him. Women were fascinated, lustful. Covetous.

It gave him no measure of satisfaction to be as blessed as his brothers in his physical appearance. It compounded his cynicism. His looks merely sweetened the prospect for avaricious lovers, and they had proved to him from an early age that women were shallow. If he had nothing they’d still want him, but they wouldn’t have to put on the elaborate pretence of not being interested in his fortune. Sometimes he almost felt sorry for them, watching them contort themselves into what they thought he wanted them to be.

Alexio was lifting his new wife into his arms now. Hearing her squeal of happiness, and seeing her throw her bouquet high in the air behind her so the women could catch it, made something break apart inside Cesar. He had to get away. He shouldn’t have come. He would taint this happiness with his presence.

But just as he turned someone caught his arm, and he looked back to see Rafaele, with his son in his arms. The small boy was looking at Cesar curiously and he could see that he’d inherited his grandmother’s eyes. His eyes. He felt weak.

As if Rafaele could see and understand the wild need to escape in Cesar’s chest, he said, ‘Whatever you might think our lives were like with our mother...they weren’t. I’ll tell Alexio you came. Maybe we’ll see you again...?’

Cesar was slightly stunned at Rafaele’s words. And at the way he’d seen his need to get out of there. That he wasn’t pushing for more.


His chest feeling tight, Cesar nodded and bit out, ‘Give him my best wishes.’

And then he turned and walked away quickly from that happy scene, before his wondering about what Rafaele had meant about their mother could tear him open completely and expose the dried husk of his soul to the light.