Securing the Greek's Legacy

Lyn’s hands twisted in her lap. Unease and fear writhed in her. But she had to reply—that much was obvious.

‘From the moment Lindy died,’ she said, her voice low and strained, ‘the authorities wanted Georgy taken into care and put up for adoption. Adoption not by me but by a childless couple. There are so many desperate for a baby!’

A cold spear went through Anatole. It was just as he had feared the moment Lyn Brandon had said that she was not Georgy’s birth mother!

‘Even now,’ she said tightly, ‘if I dropped my application they would hand him over straight away to a married couple!’

‘But you are his maternal aunt. That surely gives you a priority claim to him!’

The fear darted in her eyes again. ‘They say I’m too young, that I’m a student still, that I’d be a single mother—’ Her voice broke.

For a moment Anatole was silent.

‘But I’m not giving in!’ Lyn’s voice was vehement now. ‘I’ll never give in—no matter what they say or how much they drag their heels! I’ll never give up Georgy! Never!’

Her hands spasmed in her lap, anguish knifing inside her. Then suddenly her hands were being covered by a large, warm, strong hand, stilling their convulsion.

‘There is a way.’ Anatole heard himself speaking but did not quite believe he was doing so. ‘There is a way that could solve the entire dilemma.’

Lyn’s eyes flew to his. He felt their impact—read the fear in them.

‘You say that two of the arguments being used against your adopting Georgy are that you are still a student— unwaged and unmarried,’ he said. Part of his brain was still wondering whether he would truly say what he was about to hear himself saying. ‘What if neither of those things were true any more? What if you became a stay-at-home mother who could devote her days to Georgy—who had a husband to provide for you both and be the father figure that Georgy needs?’

She was looking blank. Totally blank.

‘I don’t understand,’ she said.

Anatole’s hand pressed hers. ‘What if,’ he said, ‘that husband—that father figure—were me?’

For a timeless moment she simply stared at him with huge, blank eyes. Then, with a jolt, she moved away, pulling her hands free from his. They felt cold without his covering clasp, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she say what was searing through her head.

‘That’s insane!’

Anatole gave a quick shake of his head. He had expected that reaction. It was, after all, exactly the reaction he’d had himself when the notion had first inserted itself into his brain yesterday, as he sought for ways to sort out the infernally complicated situation he was in.

‘Not insane—logical.’ He held up a hand. ‘Listen to me—hear me out.’ He took a breath, his eyes going absently to Georgy, who was still, he was glad to see, totally absorbed with chewing on his beloved set of keys while avidly watching the toddlers tottering about on the park’s play equipment.

‘This is what I propose,’ he said, turning his gaze back to Lyn.

She had gone white as a sheet, with the same stark expression in her face he had seen yesterday. It did not flatter her, he found himself thinking. But he brushed that aside. Her looks were not important right now. What was important was getting her to see the world his way—as fast as he possibly could.

‘If we were to marry, it would solve all our problems in one stroke. For the authorities here it would dispose of their objection to you being a single mother, as yet unable to support a child financially. Moreover, in addition to your being Georgy’s maternal aunt, the fact that you would be marrying someone who’s the closest thing to Georgy’s uncle as can be has to be compelling! And finally—’ his voice was dry now ‘—there would be absolutely no question about my ability to support a family financially!’

She was still staring at him as if he were mad. ‘But you’re a complete stranger! I only met you yesterday!’

And you are about as far removed from anyone I am likely to marry as it is possible to be!

That was the consciousness that was burning in her most fiercely, making her feel hot and cold at the same time, overriding all that he had been saying about the logic behind his insane idea!

Anatole gave a shrug. ‘All married couples were strangers once,’ he pointed out. There was still a sense of disbelief within him. Was he really saying this to the girl sitting beside him? Seriously talking about marrying her?

Yet the logic was irrefutable! It was the most effective way of achieving what had to be achieved—getting Marcos’s son out to Greece, to be raised as Timon’s heir.

‘Think about it,’ he urged. ‘I’ll give you time—obviously! —but I beg you to give it serious consideration.’

As he looked at her he thought, privately, that right now she couldn’t give serious consideration to anything short of a tornado heading for her—she was still staring at him totally blankly.

‘I can’t possibly marry you! It’s...it’s just the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard!’ Her voice was high-pitched with shock.

‘It isn’t absurd—’ he began.

‘Yes, it is! It’s completely absurd—and...and...’

She couldn’t go on, was bereft of speech, and he took ruthless advantage of her floundering.

‘The purpose of our marriage would be solely to ensure Georgy’s future,’ he said. ‘Once that has been achieved, then...’ he took a breath, never taking his eyes from her ‘...then there will be no need for it to exist.’

She blinked. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘This is what I envisage,’ Anatole explained. ‘Marriage between us will surely secure Georgy’s adoption—we are the closest living relatives he has—but once he has been adopted then there will be no compelling reason why we have to stay married. We can get divorced.’ His expression changed. ‘Provided Georgy continues to be raised in Greece.’

‘Why is that so important?’ she asked.

‘Timon will insist,’ he answered. He paused a moment. ‘Timon will make Georgy his heir. He will inherit the Petranakos Corporation when Timon dies—just as Marcos would have done, had he lived.’

Lyn frowned. ‘But you are his grandson too,’ she said. ‘Why won’t you inherit?’

Anatole gave a quick negating shake of his head. ‘I am Timon’s daughter’s son—I am not a Petranakos. I have my own inheritance from my late father and I do not,’ he emphasised, ‘seek Georgy’s. What I do seek—’ he took a scissoring breath ‘—are the powers required to run Petranakos until Georgy’s majority.’ His eyes rested on Lyn. ‘I do not need to tell you how very grave the economic situation is in Greece at the moment. Unemployment is rife and causing considerable distress. The situation at Petranakos is...difficult. And it has become more so since Timon’s illness. Worse, when Marcos was killed Timon decided to make a distant Petranakos cousin his heir—a man who, quite frankly, couldn’t run a bath, let alone a multi-million-euro business in a highly precarious economy! If he inherits,’ Anatole said flatly, ‘he’ll run it in to the ground and thousands will lose their jobs! I will not stand by and watch that happen!’

He took another breath and kept his eyes on Lyn, willing her to understand what was driving him. ‘I know exactly what I need to do to get it on track again and safeguard all the jobs it provides. But for that to happen Timon will insist that Georgy grows up in Greece.’