Greek Mavericks: Seduced Into The Greek's World

“That doesn’t—”

“And answer me this—when you married me what did you expect would happen?”

Color flooded her cheeks and she turned away from him. “Well, frankly, I imagined that something much like tonight might happen on our wedding night.”

“So I did not tell you that I intended to live my life as a single man until after you had already made vows to me.”

“Yes,” she said.

“Then I feel you have only been trying to claim what you rightfully are owed. And I think that we need to try and fix this. Together.”

“What about when you remember? What about when things... What about when they go back to the way they were?”

“I won’t lose these memories just because I gain the old ones. I can’t imagine anything on earth changing what is between us now.” He reached out, brushing his thumb over her cheek, over her impossibly soft skin. “How can I ever go back to living in the same space as you without wanting to touch you all the time? How could I possibly return to other women’s beds when yours is the only one I want to be in?”

And then he leaned in and kissed her, and they did not speak for the rest of the night.

* * *

Leon appreciated the fact that his doctor had ordered him to sit out in the sun a few hours a day so he didn’t end up with vitamin deficiencies, but he would much rather be in the house than sitting out on the terrace.

In the house with Rose, naked in his arms as he brought her pleasure again and again.

He was insatiable for his wife. For this woman he’d never touched before his accident. A woman he’d married and left a virgin.

He frowned. He could not understand why he’d done that. And the questions... It was concerning. Because at this point he could not imagine holding her at a distance. He wanted to hold her right up against him, skin to skin, at all times.

He was obsessed with her.

He looked out at the view of the lush grounds of the estate. He had this home. He had Rose. And yet he was never here. He had never touched her.

Instead he had gone out and slept with other women.

The idea sent a lash of shame streaking through him like the crack of a whip. Hot. Painful. But somewhere beneath the self-loathing was...concern.

Why? Why hadn’t he touched her? Why had he held himself back?

“How are you feeling?”

He turned in his seat and saw Rose standing in the doorway, wearing a flowing dress with a flower pattern, teasing him with just a peek of long slender leg.

It was easy to push his questions and concerns to the back of his mind when he could see her. As soon as he saw her he wanted to push her dress up past her hips and bury his face between her thighs.

It was preferable to thinking.

“Well,” he said. “I can dress myself now anyway.”

A wicked light danced in her blue eyes. “I would rather undress you.”

Heat flared in his gut and he pushed his previous concerns down even further. “I am glad you think that way, agape.”

She stepped out onto the terrace and he began to push himself into a standing position, a dull pain shooting through his midsection as he disturbed his injuries.

“Don’t,” she said, holding her hand out. “Just sit. There’s plenty of time for...touching later.”

He frowned. “I want to touch you now.”

She extended her hand and he gripped her slender fingers in his, a flash of lightning hitting him low and hard. “How’s that?”

“Not enough.” Never enough. How would it ever be enough? He might never have all the answers to who he was. But he had her. She was his beacon. His touchstone.

She smiled and it moved places inside of him. It hurt. As though heat was touching ice for the first time.

“Leon...”

“Why history?” he asked.

“What?” she asked, blinking.

“What made you decide to major in history?” If he couldn’t strip her naked, he would convince her to reveal herself in other ways. She was all he had. She filled his brain, his body, his soul. There was nothing else, and he wasn’t even certain he cared.

Why should he make an effort to know himself, in all his filthy, broken lack of glory, when he could know her?

“Well, I like research,” she said. “And if you research the past you can accomplish a lot of it in...silence. Reading. Exploring the basements and attics of old houses and libraries.”

“You like to be alone?”

She frowned. “I like time to think. And...questioning texts is much...safer than questioning actual people.”

He had a feeling she applied that to more than just history.

“Is that why you never said anything to me?” he asked. “About my behavior?”

She looked away from him, her pale throat contracting as she swallowed hard. “We married for the company and for the house. It never seemed...”

“That is not the only reason,” he said, his voice growing rough. “I know it wasn’t.”

He could not have been blind to his attraction to her. And his attraction wasn’t new. He was confident in that.

“It was as far as I knew,” she said, her tone stiff. “For you anyway.” She softened on that last part, and it made his chest ache.

He did not deserve her. He was certain of few things but that was one of them. “I do not think that’s the case.”

But there was something. Something that had held him back from her. Something that had kept her a virgin, and kept him away as often as possible.

Part of him wanted to know.

Most of him simply wanted things to stay as they were. Because here and now, he had her. He never wanted to let her go.

* * *

Everything went perfectly over the next few weeks. And if Rose felt a small amount of disquiet, ever present and ominous, resting in her chest, she did her best to ignore it. Leon was... He was the most caring, solicitous man she had ever known. And the sex... Well, that was much better than anything she had ever imagined she might experience. It was incredible. He was incredible. There was so much passion between them it was impossible to imagine things had ever been cold.

She felt like a newlywed. After two years.

It was a strange experience, one that made her feel like she was floating through her days. She wasn’t unhappy about it. Not in the least.

Perhaps a little bit uneasy, though.

She pushed that thought down and continued on through the halls. She was looking for Leon, who had become more mobile and was beginning to wander about the estate more. He still didn’t remember anything, but he was feeling much better, and he had taken it upon himself to relearn every inch of the grounds.

She imagined he was somewhere in the gardens.

This isn’t real. When he remembers he’s going to go back to the way he was. When he remembers, he’ll be consumed with work, with desire for women who actually know what they’re doing. Not sad virgins who have spent most of their lives cosseted away.

She gritted her teeth, ignoring that mean little voice. It was the source of her disquiet. And it was, unfortunately, far too accurate for her to deny.

“Ms. Tanner.” The housekeeper rushed to where Rose was standing, a worried look on her face. “Someone is here to see Mr. Carides.”

Rose shook her head. “That’s impossible. Leon can’t see anyone. We don’t want anyone to know about his memory.”

“It’s just... It is a woman.”

Rose’s stomach dropped into her feet. “Is it?”

As far as she knew Leon didn’t have mistresses in a traditional sense. He slept with other women, that was true, but there were none that he had a special connection with.

“A woman. A lawyer. And a baby.”

Rose didn’t even respond. Before she could think anything through she was running straight toward the front door, her heart pounding so hard she could scarcely breathe.

She was half expecting her housekeeper to have made everything up. For there to be no one standing at the door. For it to be empty, and everything to be the way that it was a few moments ago. Perfect, and beautiful, and not falling down around her.

The woman was beautiful. Blonde, tall, expertly made up. She was dressed simply, but effectively, every piece of clothing accentuating her coloring, her shape, and highlighting her beauty. The man next to her was grim-faced, clad in a sharp suit. And right in front of them was a car seat, the shade drawn over the part where the baby sat, concealing it from view.

“I am Leon Carides’s wife,” Rose said, her voice trembling. “What exactly is happening here?”

“My client has some things to discuss with Mr. Carides.” It was the lawyer who spoke, the woman beside him extremely silent and pale.

“I don’t know if you heard or not, but my husband was recently in a serious car accident. He’s still recovering.”

“Still, I imagine he will want to hear what we have to say,” the lawyer said.

“I want to hear what you have to say,” she said, her tone insistent.

“If you can get hold of him, and ask his permission to hear the details, I’m certain we can fill you in.”

“I don’t see any point in being coy about it,” the woman said, crossing her arms beneath her breasts, her expression turning determined. “I want to see Leon. I want to give him his baby.”

She had known what this was. The moment she’d heard who was at the door she’d known. But she still didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to believe what this woman was saying.

“I’m sorry,” Rose said, asking for clarity she didn’t truly need. “What?”

“His baby,” she said. “The child is his, and it’s time for him to take responsibility.”

* * *

By the time they were all seated in Leon’s office, Rose was in a daze. Leon did not look like he was faring much better. He could only stare blank-faced at the woman who was claiming to be the mother of his child. A child who was only four months old.

Rose bit back a cry of hysteria at the thought. Yes, she knew he had been with other women over the course of their marriage. But never, ever had she been asked to deal with the reality of it in quite such a tangible way.

The baby hadn’t made a sound since arriving—it was like a little doll, sitting in the bucket seat. A girl, with a pink blanket thrown over her sleeping figure. She had dark hair, long sooty lashes that swept across her cheeks. She was beautiful. And she was Leon’s. Leon and April’s. That was the woman’s name. It made Rose feel sick.

The lawyer was talking, outlining the apparent details of the agreement that Leon had previously made with April. He was sitting there, looking stoic, saying very little. Rose had plenty to say, but it wasn’t the time. They were still trying to obscure the fact that Leon had no memory, difficult when he was sitting near a former lover that he clearly didn’t have any recollection of. Difficult when he was sitting near a child he obviously didn’t remember.

But it was all there, right in front of them. The acknowledgment of paternity, the DNA test and the agreement that April would have full custody along with a certain amount of financial support from Leon.

“I know what we agreed,” April said, speaking slowly. “But I find that I’m unable to take care of her. More than that, I don’t want to. I thought it would be worth it. Especially with all the money you are paying me, but I just can’t. I waited for some...maternal instinct to kick in. Something that would overwhelm me and change me. I’m not changed,” she said, sounding sad. Flat. “I could hire nannies, you’ve given me enough money for that but... I wanted better for her. I’m going to give her up for adoption. But I felt like I needed to speak to you first. I’m willing to sign over all of my parental rights to you.”

“She will of course continue to collect a stipend,” the lawyer added.

“Of course,” Rose said, her tone brittle.

“Yes,” Leon said, his tone slightly more sincere, “of course.”

“If everything is in order then, Mr. Carides, we are happy to relinquish baby Isabella into your custody.”

For a moment, Rose wanted to stand up and shout. She wanted to say no. To send the child out somewhere else, anywhere else but into her home. It wasn’t fair. They were making a life together, her and Leon. They were trying to make their marriage work. She was the one that was supposed to have his children. Not someone else. His DNA wasn’t supposed to combine with another woman’s to make something so beautiful. It should be with hers. This should be her baby.

She wanted to rail against him. To rail against all of this.

And yet when she looked at the sleeping little girl all she could feel was sadness. It wasn’t Isabella’s fault that her mother couldn’t take care of her. It wasn’t her fault that her father had been careless. It wasn’t her fault that her father had a wife who felt personally wounded by this indiscretion.

All of the adults in the room had made choices. Rose had chosen to marry Leon. Leon had chosen to sleep with April. April had chosen Leon even knowing he was married. Only Isabella had made no choices.

And no matter how angry she felt, she could feel no anger at the baby. Not really.

“Of course I want her,” Leon said, his voice breaking.

He didn’t ask Rose what she wanted. But then, she could hardly blame him. This was his child. His flesh and blood. How could she ask him to do anything but take her into his home? And how could he ever leave the decision up to anyone else? He couldn’t. She understood that.

She was still angry.

But she said nothing. She said nothing at all while Leon and April signed the paperwork. Paperwork that didn’t include Rose, because why would it? She wasn’t a parent to this child. She was only Leon’s wife. Why would she matter at all?

“Thank you,” April said, her tone hushed. “This isn’t my proudest moment.”

Rose didn’t care at all about the other woman’s pride. She found herself short on sympathy.

Leon did not seem to suffer a similar affliction. “You’re doing what you think is best,” he said. “You should be proud of that.”

The other woman tilted her head. “You seem different,” April said. “Not that we know each other all that well.”

“I stopped drinking,” he said, his tone grave.

“Maybe that’s it.”

Then April turned her focus to Rose. And Rose really wished she hadn’t. Rose would rather disappear into the ornate wood paneling on the wall. She wanted to hate the other woman. But when she saw the exhaustion in her eyes, a deep sadness that her flippant I don’t want this tried to disguise, she simply couldn’t. “I’m sorry,” April said, her words directed at Rose.

“There isn’t anything to be sorry for,” Rose said, surprised by the fact that she meant them at least a little bit. “Leon has to answer for his own actions—you don’t. You didn’t make vows to me.”

“Well, I think he was trying to keep all of this away from you. But I didn’t feel right about putting her up for adoption without...”

“I understand. I’m glad that you came to us.” She wasn’t sure it was true. But it was the right thing to say.

Without another word, April and her lawyer walked out of the office. April didn’t look back again, not at Leon, not at Rose, and not at the child that was still safely buckled up in her car seat.

Rose felt like a small pink bomb had been detonated in the middle of them. They had been making things work. Things had been changing. Things had been different. But the simple fact was that no matter whether or not Leon could remember the past, the past existed. It was so tempting to believe that a clean slate was possible. That because his memories were changed, his actions had, as well. But this was incontrovertible evidence to the contrary.

“We don’t have any supplies for a baby,” Leon said finally, breaking the silence between them.

“That’s what you’re going to lead with?” Rose asked, hearing in her tone the fragile nature of her mental state.

“What do you want me to say? I have no memory of any of this. Obviously I knew about the child, Rose—I signed those documents. That is my signature. I signed away the rights to my child.”

“A child you had with another woman during our marriage.”

“Yes,” he said, his tone fierce. “Though it is no surprise to you that I was sleeping with other women.”

“It does surprise me,” she said, her voice rising along with the hysteria in her breast, “that you had a child with someone else. That’s quite the secret to keep.”

“I find I am more distressed by the fact that I clearly wanted nothing to do with Isabella.”

“Well, I imagine you wanted to avoid this scenario.”

“What kind of man does that?” Leon asked. “What kind of man pays a woman off to keep a child out of his life?”

“You,” Rose said, not caring if she was cruel. Not caring if her words cut. “Apparently you do.”

“I’m starting to think I know nothing about myself at all,” he said, his voice hollow.

But she didn’t feel sorry for him. She refused.

“The feeling is mutual,” she said.

Rose turned on her heel and stormed out of the office, doing what she knew was about the cruelest thing she could. She left Leon alone with his thoughts. And with his child.

* * *

Leon stared down at the sleeping baby in the car seat, emotions rolling through him like storm clouds, pressure building inside him. Who was he? What sort of man kept his wife ensconced in a manor house in the country, leaving her a virgin for two years while he lived his life as though she didn’t exist?

What sort of man brought a baby into the world and wrote an agreement making it completely clear he never wanted to see her?

He gathered from the paperwork that he had never set eyes on his daughter. He gathered he hadn’t even known the gender of the child.

Weariness stole through him, and a darkness rolled through him like clouds covering the sky.

What did you do when you found out you were a monster? Because he had to be a monster. There was no other explanation. Real men did not abandon their children like this. They did not pay to make their own flesh and blood go away.

He didn’t know if he had ever held a baby. He had certainly never held this one.

Suddenly, he found himself dropping down to his knees, his heart pounding so hard he could scarcely breathe. He looked at the little girl, sleeping there in the car seat. So tiny, so perfectly formed. Abandoned by the only parent she knew, brought to stay forever with the man who had signed her away as though she was an unwanted object he didn’t want cluttering up his home.

“I am sorry,” he said, his voice raw, strange. “I am sorry for the man I was. But I will not abandon you. Not now. I will fix this. I will be the father you deserve. I will be the man that both of you deserve.”

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, sitting on the floor in front of her, simply staring. But eventually, she began to stir, a plaintive, high-pitched wail on her lips as she came fully awake. Her eyes open, bright blue, not at all what he expected, glaring at him as though he was her enemy. Then the tears started to fall down her angry red face and panic flooded through him.

He picked up the car seat, wincing as pain from his ribs shot through him.

He had to find someone. Anyone. He did not want to pick her up. He was afraid he would break her. He had no memory of how to hold a child. Perhaps he had never known how.

“Rose!” He made his way out of the office and through the halls. “Rose, I need you.”

Rose emerged from the library, her face pale, her eyes red.

“What is it?”

“The baby is crying.”

“Yes,” Rose said, crossing her arms, “she is.”

“I do not know what to do.”

Rose stayed right where she was, her feet planted firmly on the floor. “I’m not sure what you want me to do about it.”

“Help me.”

She still didn’t move. Then finally, as Isabella’s cries continued to fill the air, Rose’s expression softened. “I’m not going to help you. But I will help her.” She crossed the space between them, stopping in front of him. “Put her seat down.”

He complied, and then Rose knelt down, beginning to work the harness that kept the baby strapped in.

She undid the seat belt and plucked the baby up from the seat, cradling her tiny body close to her chest. It made something inside Leon’s own chest tighten. Made it almost impossible for him to breathe. There was something about all of this that was familiar and foreign at the same time. Something that filled him with a terrible sense of dread that made it feel as though his insides were slowly turning to ice.

He found himself completely rooted to the place he was standing. He couldn’t move forward. He couldn’t turn away.

“She might be hungry.” A tear slipped down Rose’s cheek and he despised himself. The two women in his life were here in front of him, weeping, and he could do nothing to stop any of it. He didn’t know how. He didn’t know how to comfort a baby, and he found himself somewhat terrified by the sight of her. He didn’t feel he deserved to try to offer comfort to Rose. Whom he had betrayed.

“Are you all right?” It was the wrong thing to ask. He knew the moment he spoke the words. And it was confirmed by the way her mouth flattened. By the way her eyes cooled.

“I don’t know how to take care of a baby. I don’t know what to do. This isn’t what I want,” she said, her voice breaking.

There was no response for that. It didn’t exist inside of him. He wondered what he would have said if he was in possession of his memories. He wondered how he would respond to this. How he would respond to her.

“First I will send out some of the staff to buy supplies,” he said. He didn’t know what would come next. He realized the way he had begun that sentence implied that he had a list of actions to take. But he could barely wrap his mind around the one.

“That would be good,” she said, her tone stiff. “Please just...take her.” She took a step forward, thrusting the baby into his arms. He took her, cradling her close. He could do nothing but stare down at her, marveling at the intense shot of fear that gripped him. As though she were a man-eating tiger and not a small girl.

When he looked up, Rose was gone.

And Leon was left alone with his daughter.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ROSE FELT LIKE she was made of pain. She’d spent the entire day curled up in her bed, a lump of misery that could not be moved. She was assuming that Leon had seen to taking care of Isabella’s needs. She felt guilty for the assumption. But not quite enough to move from her position in her bed.

It wasn’t as though she had any experience with babies. None of her friends had them yet. She was an only child, and she had never done babysitting or anything like that when she was growing up.

She couldn’t offer him any help. The house was full of staff. He would figure something out.

She ignored the crushing weight that thought brought. She didn’t know how she was supposed to sort through this. She didn’t know how she was supposed to forgive this.

But she had shared herself with him. As much as she had loved him before he’d touched her, she had only fallen deeper since they’d started sleeping together. Since she’d started to hope again.

The door to her bedroom opened and she sat up, clutching her blanket to her chest, in spite of the fact that she was fully clothed. “What do you want, Leon?” she asked, not bothering to moderate her tone as Leon walked into her room, slamming the door behind him.

“Are you going to stay angry with me?”

“Probably,” she said.

“There is nothing that I can do about this. There is nothing I can do to turn back time.”

“And there’s nothing I can do to erase how horrible this feels. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand how you could do something like this.”

He exploded then. Every bit of the rage she imagined had been simmering inside of him since his accident, since his memories had been ripped from him, pouring from him. “I don’t know why I would do something like this, either, Rose. I have no memory of any of it. No memory of what reasoning there could have possibly been. Why was I not in your bed? Why did I turn my own child away? I don’t know the answer to these questions. Everything is gone. It’s a black hole inside me. I can never reach the bottom of it. I can’t seem to see anything around me. These are the consequences of my actions, and I understand that. I understand that I’m not innocent because I don’t have answers. But it doesn’t make this any easier.”