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Authors: Anne McAllister

BOOK: Breaking the Greek's Rules
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She wanted her life back—the way it had been before she had gone to the dinner with him tonight, the way it had been before everything she’d worked so hard to build and hold together for the past five years had all come apart at the seams.

“When you walked out, I was humiliated,” she said. “I felt like an idiot. Sick.”

Alex’s jaw bunched. She knew he wanted to argue. He shifted uncomfortably. Daisy didn’t care. She was uncomfortable, too. They could suffer through this together.

“Weeks went by,” she continued. “Two, three, four—and instead of being able to put it behind me, I just felt sicker. And sicker. I started throwing up every morning. And that,” she said, lifting her eyes to look at him squarely now, “was when I realized that it wasn’t the memory of my idiocy that was making me sick. It was being pregnant.”

He flinched, then let out a slow breath.

“I didn’t even think about trying to find you,” she said levelly. “You’d made it quite clear you weren’t interested in any sort of involvement at all.”

“You could’ve —”

“No,” she said flatly. “I couldn’t.” She hesitated, then just told him the truth. “I was afraid you might want me to get an abortion.”

He stared at her, shocked. “How could you think—?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she demanded. “You didn’t want to care! I was afraid you’d say, ‘Get rid of it before
anyone
cares.’ Well,
I
cared. Even then I cared!” She could feel tears stinging the back of her eyes.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

“Exactly,” Daisy said, understanding the desperation that
made him say it. “I did a lot of praying. You can believe that. I was scared. I didn’t know how I was going to cope. I could keep working for Finn while I was pregnant, but after the baby came, I thought I might have to go back to Colorado and stay with my mother till I could work something out. And then—” she breathed deeply “—Cal proposed.”

“Your savior. He was just standing around, waiting in the wings, for exactly that moment?” Alex demanded bitterly. “Ready to take some other man’s woman?” Alex ground out. “His
pregnant
woman?”

“I was
not
your woman! And he was my friend. He
is
my friend.”

“And yet you couldn’t stay married to him,” Alex said derisively.

Her jaw tightened. “It didn’t work out.” She folded her hands in her lap.

“Why not?”

“That’s not your business.”

Alex scowled blackly. “He married you, then dumped you? It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense.”

“He didn’t dump me! And it made sense,” Daisy insisted. “We hoped it would work. We wanted it to work. Cal’s a good man,” she said, looking over at the photo on the mantel. She stared at it for a long moment, then turned her gaze and met Alex’s, smiling a little sadly. “He’s been a good father.”

“But not Charlie’s only father!” Alex insisted.

“He knows he has a biological father. Well, as much as any four-year-old understands that. He knows he has two fathers. I figured I could explain you more to him as he got older.”

“I’ll explain myself to him now.”

“No,” Daisy said. “Not until I know how you feel.”

“You know damn well how I feel. I want my son!”

Their gazes locked, dueled. And in the silence of battle, the stairs creaked.

“Mommy?”

Daisy’s head jerked up to see Charlie peering over the bannister
halfway down them. Alex stared up at him, too. Dear God, had he heard?

Daisy hurried up the stairs and scooped him up into her arms. “What is it, sweetie?”

“My arm hurts,” he whimpered, and tucked his head between her jaw and her shoulder. He clung to her, but his gaze was fixed on Alex who was slowly coming to his feet.

Daisy shifted so that her body blocked his view. “I know.” She kissed his hair and cuddled him close. “I wish it didn’t. I’ll take you back upstairs and sing to you. Okay?”

Charlie nodded. “Can Alex come, too?”

“Alex was just leaving.” But she turned and carried Charlie down the stairs. “We’ll just say good-night and see him out the front door.” She smiled into Alex’s suddenly narrowed gaze. “That will be nice, won’t it?” she said to her son.

Solemnly Charlie nodded. He looked at Alex.

Alex looked back with an intensity that made Daisy quiver.

Then Charlie lifted his head off her shoulder. “Night, Alex.”

Daisy held her breath as, slowly, Alex shrugged into his suit jacket and crossed the room, stopping mere inches from them. He didn’t look at her. He had eyes only for Charlie. To Daisy he looked dark, forbidding and positively scary.

But then he lifted a hand to touch Charlie’s cheek and his expression softened, a smile touched the corner of his mouth. “Good night, son.”

CHAPTER TEN

I
T
was like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Daisy half expected to find Alex standing on the stoop when she got up. But a peek out the curtains as soon as she got up proved that no one was there.

He didn’t call, either, though she jumped every time the phone rang.

Charlie, pushing his scrambled eggs around his plate, wanted to know what the matter was with her. “You’re all jumpy,” he remarked when a sound on the sidewalk made her flinch.

“Nothing’s the matter.” Daisy turned away, busying herself putting the dishes in the dishwasher. “Izzy said she and the boys were coming by.”

Izzy’s had been the first phone call she’d got this morning.

“How is he?” her friend had demanded even before Daisy had dragged herself out of bed.

“Still asleep,” Daisy reported. In fact he was asleep on the other side of her bed. She’d got him back to sleep after Alex had finally left, but he’d awakened and come into her room again at five-thirty. Barely able to pry her eyes open, Daisy had taken the easy way out and let him clamber into bed with her. Fortunately he’d gone straight back to sleep, and when Izzy had rung at eight, he was still dead to the world.

“Sorry. We’ve been up for hours thinking about him.”

“He’s going to be fine,” Daisy assured her. At least his
arm was. How his life was going to change now that Alex was going to be part of it, she didn’t know. But at least Alex had been kind last night. He’d actually behaved—toward Charlie—very well. Maybe, given that, he would be fine. And kids were resilient.

It was her own resilience Daisy was worried about.

How was she going to deal with Alexandros Antonides in her life?

She didn’t want to think about it. So when Izzy asked if they could come and see Charlie in the afternoon, Daisy said yes without hesitation. The distraction would do them both good.

By midafternoon with no Rip and no Crash, Charlie was getting restless. Daisy had watched a Disney DVD with him, then read him a couple of dozen picture books. She tried unsuccessfully to talk him into a nap.

“I’m too big for naps,” he told her. “An’ I’m not tired.”

No, just cranky. She had a photo shoot to finish editing before tomorrow afternoon. So she brought her laptop down to the living room and worked on it there while Charlie played with his cars and his Legos on the floor.

“Maybe that Alex will come back,” he said hopefully, looking up from his cars.

“Mmm.” Daisy didn’t encourage that line of thinking. A man who had been as adamant as Alex had been about not wanting children might have had a brief change of heart when faced with a little boy who looked very much like his beloved deceased brother.

But having a son was a huge responsibility. And it wasn’t one that you could just pick up and put down as the whim struck you. Alex wasn’t a fool. He had to realize that. It was possible that Alex had gone home in the early hours of the morning, thought about the implications of having a son, and come to the conclusion that he’d made the right decision five years ago. Whatever he decided, Daisy was determined that she wouldn’t let him upset Charlie’s life to suit himself.

She didn’t have time to think about it more because finally the doorbell rang.

“They’re here!” Charlie scrambled up from the floor and raced to open the door.

Daisy unlocked the door, and Charlie tugged it open.

Rip MacCauley took one look at Charlie’s cast and said, “Oh, wow. Your cast is blue? That’s cool.”

The first smile of the day flickered across Charlie’s face.

“You think?”

“Oh, yeah,” Rip said, coming in and taking off his jacket. “I only ever had a white one.”

“Mine was purple when I broke my ankle,” Crash announced. “Here. This is for you.” He thrust a package wrapped in newspaper comics into Charlie’s hand.

“A little something to keep him busy,” Izzy told Daisy as the boys headed instinctively for the cars and the Legos on the floor and she followed Daisy into the kitchen. “Rip and Crash have been really worried. They seem to think they’re indestructible, but when Charlie got hurt, they were, like, ‘Oh, no! What if he dies?’ They felt very responsible. As well they should, Finn says.”

“Finn being such a pattern card of model behavior.” Daisy grinned.

Izzy laughed. “That’s what I said.” She perched on a bar stool while Daisy made them coffee. “I was amazed when Finn got home so quickly last night. Why didn’t you let him stay for a bit and help you with Charlie?”

“No point. We were fine.” And she was very glad he hadn’t been there to witness the meeting of Alex and his son.

“I’m sorry we interrupted your evening. How was the Plaza? Tell all.” Izzy leaned forward eagerly.

It took Daisy a moment to even begin to remember the details, so much had happened in the meantime. “It was … fine,” she said vaguely. “The Plaza is elegant, of course. The dinner was wonderful,” she added dutifully, because “fine” wasn’t going to satisfy Izzy.

“And the dress?”

“It was fantastic.”

“Knocked his socks off?” Izzy’s eyes were bright.

“It wasn’t supposed to knock his socks off,” Daisy reminded her. “He’s got a girlfriend.”

Izzy looked disappointed. But then she shrugged philosophically. “So you had a good time.”

Daisy did her best to sound bright and enthusiastic about the evening. She didn’t tell Izzy that Alex had turned up at the hospital. She didn’t mention anything that happened after that. Until she had some idea of what Alex intended, she wasn’t borrowing trouble—or discussing him with anyone.

She was glad Izzy and the boys came because it took the edge off Charlie’s boredom and irritability. The matchbox cars that Rip and Crash brought him were a big hit. But Daisy was, honestly, glad when they left again because it was hard to give the impression of cheerful equanimity when she felt edgy and stressed and as if her world was splintering into a million pieces. She left Charlie playing with his cars on the floor in the living room and retreated to the kitchen to wash up the cups and plates from the MacCauleys’ visit.

And then the doorbell rang.

“It’s Alex!” Charlie yelled, jumping up and running to the door.

Wiping nervous hands on the sides of her jeans, Daisy followed him to answer it. She dragged the door open a few inches and, as always, felt her heart do a somersault in her chest at the mere sight of him.

Gone, of course, was the formal wear of last evening. This afternoon Alex was in jeans and a hunter-green down jacket, his dark hair windblown and dusted with snowflakes, his jaw stubbled. His eyes were bloodshot, but they met hers squarely.

“Daisy.” His voice was soft but firm, and gravelly as if he hadn’t slept.

“Alex,” she replied, holding herself rigid, trying to relax,
but unable to. Still she swallowed and tried to sound cordial and polite.

“Hi, Alex.” Charlie poked his head around to beam up at the man on the doorstep. “Come ‘n’ see my new cars.”

“Cars?” Alex grinned and stepped across the threshold.

Daisy backed up hastily. “Charlie’s much better,” she said as he brushed past. “You didn’t have to come.”

He gave her a look so intense it could have leveled buildings. “I wanted to come.” Then he turned his attention to Charlie. “You’re better, are you?” he said, his tone far lighter. “Good. I thought maybe we could go to the park.”

“The park?” Daisy echoed doubtfully.

But Charlie cheered. Obviously no one had told him he was an invalid.

“But let’s see your new cars first.” Alex was already shedding his jacket, dropping down onto the floor next to Charlie, making himself at home.

Charlie was clearly delighted to have the attention. He showed Alex the new set of Matchbox cars that Rip and Crash had given him. “Sports cars,” he told Alex eagerly. “They go really fast. See?” He raced them around on the floor, making car noises.

Alex stretched out his long legs and leaned back on an elbow, watching, not just indulgently, but with real interest. He picked up the cars by turn, examining them, commenting knowledgeably because, of course, he knew all about cars. It must come standard issue with the Y chromosome.

Daisy stood there, watching, unable to pull herself away. Seeing the two of them together—father and son—was something she’d barely ever dreamed of. Hearing Charlie’s eager chatter and Alex’s low baritone in reply set something deep inside her quivering, aching.

Wanting. Far too much.

Abruptly she wheeled away. “I’ll be upstairs,” she said. “I have work to do.”

He had come to see Charlie, not her. And while it was
hardly an honest introduction to the demands of fatherhood, if he came looking for reinforcements in fifteen minutes, she’d know it wasn’t going to last.

Charlie came in half an hour later. “Alex an’ me want to go to the park. He says to ask if you want to go along.”

Annoyed that he would presume to decide what he and Charlie were going to do without consulting her, Daisy hurried downstairs.

The Legos and Matchbox cars had been neatly put away and Alex was zipping up his jacket. “Good,” he said. “You’re coming, too.”

“You don’t presume. You should have asked!”

“Charlie did ask.”

Charlie bobbed his head. “I said we wanted to go, and did you want to come.”

Daisy opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Fine,” she said shortly. “I’ll come.”

It was torture, seeing him with Charlie, being with him herself, acting as though they were some lovely happy family, all the while knowing it was a sham.

“Take it easy,” Alex said in an undertone as she jerkily shoved her arms into her jacket. “I’m not going to steal my son.”

My son
, she wanted to correct him.
And no, you’re damned well not!

But Alex had turned and was helping Charlie with his jacket. Daisy wanted to push him away and do it herself. But one look told her that Charlie was more patient with Alex helping than he would have been with her. And Alex did take the time to show him how to do it himself—except for the zipping up part.

“Guess we’ll have to help with that,” he said easily, then zipped the jacket up to Charlie’s chin. Then rising again, he reached down to ruffle the little boy’s hair.

It was a casual movement, but it already spoke of a connection
that made Daisy’s insides clench, especially when Charlie flashed him a happy grin.

Turning abruptly, she called Murphy and snapped on his leash. Then the four of them went out the door and headed to the park—just like a family.

She shouldn’t have come. She should have stayed back in her office and got more work done. But the temptation of watching Alex with Charlie was too great. It was terrifying, too. But Charlie was having such a good time.

There was still lots of snow on the ground. Once they got to the park, they built a snowman. And they had a snowball fight. Then Charlie made snow angels.

“A snow devil more like,” Daisy said, laughing as she watched him, then taking photos with the small pocket-size camera she always carried. She got quite a few of Charlie and Alex rolling balls to make the snowman, then more of Alex lifting Charlie onto his shoulders so he could put an old hat on the snowman’s head.

They were laughing as they did it, Alex lurching around in the snow while Charlie gripped Alex’s hair with his free hand and laughed madly. Then Alex tipped his head back to grin up at his son, and the look they shared made Daisy feel as if she’d caught a snowball square in the heart.

Later she nearly did as she helped Charlie pelt Alex with snowballs. She got several shots of Charlie and Alex throwing them at each other. Then Alex took the camera out of her hand.

“What are you doing?” She tried to grab it back.

But Alex held it out of her reach, his green eyes mischievous. “Go play with your son.”

Self-consciously at first, Daisy did. But then she got caught up in Charlie’s enthusiasm. And while she pushed Charlie on a swing and helped him build a little snow dog to go with the snowman, Alex took pictures. Finally, when Daisy said it was time to leave, he set the camera’s timer and hauled them all into a picture together, scooping Charlie up into one arm while he flung the other around Daisy.

And once more when his arm pulled her close, Daisy felt the hum of electricity between them. She felt desire all over again, and knew it for the hopeless feeling it was. It was a relief when the timer went off, the shutter clicked, and he let her go, slung Charlie onto his shoulders and they all walked home.

On the doorstep, when Alex set him down, Daisy smiled politely. “Thank you. He enjoyed that.”

“Did you?” Alex asked.

She heard the pointedness of his tone and chose to ignore it. “Of course.” She fumbled to get the key in the lock. He was wearing sunglasses and before she’d turned away she couldn’t read his expression, but she could still feel the intensity of his gaze.

“Good.” He took the key out of her hand and opened the door himself. Then he pushed it open, let them go in, then followed and shut it behind him.

“I need to get dinner started. Don’t let us keep you. I’m sure you have things to do.” Daisy said briskly and, slipping off her jacket, started toward the kitchen.

“We can get takeout. What do you like?”

“I’m making stew. Charlie likes it.”

“So do I.” Alex smiled guilelessly.

“Alex can stay, can’t he?” Charlie asked.

What was a mother to do? Of course she had to be polite. She was teaching Charlie to be polite.

The evening was interminable. Dinner. Then Charlie’s bath. Then bedtime stories. And awareness of Alex at every single moment. Watching him with Charlie, catching him looking at her when he thought she wasn’t noticing. Charlie’s stories took forever, even though Alex read several of them. Prayers were longer, too, because Alex, of course, was added to them.

“No singing tonight,” Daisy decreed before Charlie could even suggest it. “You need to go to sleep. Remember, your class is going to the zoo tomorrow.” The preschool trip to the Bronx Zoo—and a program about animals in winter—had been much anticipated.

Now Charlie looked up from his pillow and asked, “Can Alex come?”

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