LITMIR.BIZ

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and give herself this panic attack, stupid and reckless to have opened a door for him into her life again when she wanted him out, out, out!

      Please, God, let him not follow up on it.

      Let him shrug it off as a put-down line.

      Let him just go on with his life and leave her alone to go on with hers.

      That boy … his son? His son?

      Ari snapped out of the wave of shock rolling through his mind, swung on his heel, and stared after the woman who had just declared herself the mother of his child. Christina Savalas wasn’t waiting around to capitalise on her claim. Having delivered her bombshell she was fast making an exit from any fall-out.

      Was it true?

      He quickly calculated precisely when he had been in Australia. It was six years ago. The boy’s age would approximately fit that time-frame. He needed to know the actual birth date to be sure if it was possible. That could be checked. The name was Theo. Theo Savalas. Who looked very like himself as a child!

      A chill ran down Ari’s spine. If Theo was his, it meant he had left Christina pregnant, abandoned a pregnant woman, left her to bring up his child alone. But how could that happen when he was always careful to sheath himself against such a consequence? Not once had he ever failed to use protection. Had there been a slip-up with her, one that he didn’t remember?

      He did remember she’d been an innocent. Unexpectedly and delightfully so. He hadn’t felt guilty about taking her virginity. Desire had been mutual and he’d given her pleasure—a good start to her sexual life, which he’d reasoned would become quite active as time went by. Any man would see her as desirable and it was only natural that she would be attracted to some of them.

      But if he had left her pregnant … That would have messed up her career, messed up her life—reason enough for those extremely expressive dark eyes of hers to shoot black bolts of hatred and contempt at him with her punishing exit line.

      Impossible to ignore what she’d said. He had to check it out. If the boy was his son … Why hadn’t Christina told him about his existence before this? Why go it alone all these years? Why hit him with it now? There was a hell of a lot of questions to be considered.

      ‘Ari …’

      His teeth automatically gritted. He hated that whiny tone in Felicity’s voice.

      ‘What are you standing there for? She’s gone.’

      Gone but not forgotten.

      ‘I was remembering my time in Australia, which was where I’d met Christina,’ he said, forcing himself to return to his chair and be reasonably civil to the woman he had invited to be his companion.

      ‘What were you doing in Australia?’

      ‘Checking out the wine industry there. Seeing if any improvements could be made to the Santorini operation.’

      ‘Was this Christina connected to the wine industry?’

      The tone had changed to a snipe.

      He shrugged. ‘Not really. She was part of an advertising drive for the Jacob’s Creek label.’

      One eyebrow arched in knowing mockery. ‘A model.’

      ‘She was then.’

      ‘And you had fun with her.’

      He grimaced at her dig, which he found extremely distasteful in the circumstances. ‘Ancient history, Felicity. I was simply surprised to see her here in Dubai.’

      ‘Well, she’s loaded down with a child now,’ she said with snide satisfaction. ‘No fun at all.’

      ‘I can’t imagine it is much fun, being a single mother,’ he said, barely containing a wave of anger at Felicity’s opinion.

      ‘Oh, I don’t know. Quite a few movie stars have chosen that route and they seem to revel in it.’

      Ari wanted this conversation finished. He heaved a sigh, then mockingly drawled, ‘What do I know? I’m a man.’

      Felicity laughed, leaned over and stroked his thigh. ‘And a gorgeous one, darling. Which is why I don’t like you straying, even for a minute.’

      The urge to stray to Christina Savalas had been instant.

      He’d had his surfeit of self-centred women like Felicity Fullbright and the flash of memory—a sweet, charming time—had compelled him out of his seat. But it wasn’t the same Christina he’d known. How could it be, given the passage of years? A different person, she’d said. He would need to get to know her again if she was the mother of his child.

      He would track her down in the very near future. Obviously she was on a tourist trip with her mother and would be on the move for a few weeks. Best to wait until she was back on home ground. In the meantime, he had to sever any further involvement with Felicity, attend his cousin’s wedding, then free himself up to pursue the big question.

      Was Theo Savalas his son?

      If the answer was a definitive yes, changes to his life had to be made.

      And Christina Savalas would have to come to some accommodation with him, whether she liked it or not.

      A father had rights to his child, and Ari had no qualms about enforcing them.

      Family was family.

      CHAPTER THREE

      TINA felt continually tense for the rest of their short stay in Dubai, knowing Ari Zavros was in the same city. Although she didn’t think he would pursue the paternity issue, and a second accidental encounter with him was unlikely, she only felt safe on the red tour bus in between its stops at the various points of interest; the gold souks, the spice markets, the shopping centres. It was a huge relief to board their flight to Athens on the third day, not having had any further contact with him.

      They were met at the airport by Uncle Dimitri, her father’s older brother. After a brief stop to check in at their hotel, he took them on to his restaurant which was sited just below the Acropolis and where all their Greek relatives had gathered to welcome them home. It wasn’t home to Tina or Theo, both of whom had been born in Australia, but it was interesting to meet her mother’s and father’s families and it was a very festive get-together.

      Her mother revelled in the company and Theo was a hit—such a beautiful grandchild—but Tina couldn’t help feeling like an outsider. The women tended to talk about her in the third person, as though she wasn’t there at all.

      ‘We must find a husband for your daughter, Helen.’

      ‘Why did she cut her hair? Men like long hair.’

      ‘She is obviously a good mother. That is important.’

      ‘And if she is used to helping in a restaurant …’

      Not helping, managing, Tina silently corrected, observing how Uncle Dimitri was managing his. He was constantly on watch, signalling waiters to wherever service was required. All the patrons were treated to a plate of sliced watermelon at the end of their meals—on the house—a nice touch for long hot evenings. People left happy, which meant return visits and good word-of-mouth. It was something she could copy at home.

      Most of the tables were out on the sidewalk, under trees or umbrellas. Herbs were grown in pots, their aromas adding to the pleasant ambience. The food was relatively simple, the salads very good. She particularly liked the olive oil, honey and balsamic vinegar dressing—a combination she would use in future. It was easy to relax and have a taste of Athens.

      There’d been a message from Cassandra at the hotel, saying she and her fiancé would join them at the restaurant, and Tina kept looking for their arrival, eager to meet up with her sister again. Cass had brought George home to Sydney with her six months ago, but had been working a heavy international schedule ever since. They had just flown in from London and were spending one night in Athens before

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