An Heir for the Millionaire by Julia James Read Free Book Online Page B

who was his. Emotion felled him. For a moment his brain went completely and absolutely blank. What did he know of children? His own childhood was so far away that he never thought of it—his father had been dead, his mother too. He had no memories of them.
    Cold iced in his spine. If he had not come today, sought out the woman who had walked out into the night four years ago, his own son would, like him, have had no memories of his father…
    That will not be…
    Resolution steeled inside him. His son would have a father, and memories of a father, starting right now.
    â€˜Hello, Joey,’ said Xander. ‘I am your father. I’ve come to see you.’
    Clare felt the knife go through her throat, and she gaspedaloud. Xander ignored her. So did Joey. Joey tilted his head and subjected Xander to an intense look.
    â€˜Fathers are daddies,’ he announced.
    Xander nodded. ‘Quite right. You’re a clever boy.’
    Joey looked pleased with himself.
    â€˜Clare, give Joey his tea. He’s a growing boy.’ Vi beckoned to her, and cleared some space on the table by her chair. Shakily, Clare crossed and put down the tray.
    â€˜Soldiers!’ shouted Joey, pleased. ‘Eggy soldiers.’ He seized one of the fingers of toast and plunged it into one of the two eggs with the end sliced off, starting to eat with relish. Around his neck, Vi was deftly attaching a bib.
    It was all, thought Clare, with a sick, hollow feeling inside her, intensely normal.
    Except for one thing.
    She rubbed a hand over her brow, her eyes going to the man sitting on Vi’s old sofa. The man who was her son’s father. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t. Wave after wave of disbelief was eddying through her. So much shock. Last night had been bad enough, but now this… This was a nightmare. She couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. Could only watch, with a strange unnatural calm, how Xander Anaketos was watching his son—her son—eat his tea.
    He stayed for another half an hour. Time for Joey to finish his tea and start playing with his toys. Clare washed up, trying to do anything to bring back normality—to pretend that her life hadn’t just crashed all around her. She started to get her and Vi’s supper ready, taking a cup of tea in to the other woman. Silently, she placed a mug of instant coffee—black, as she knew he liked his coffee—beside Xander. He gave her a long, level look that was quite expressionless. Then he returned his attention to his son, asking him about the car he was pushing around on the carpet.
    â€˜I like cars,’ said Joey.
    â€˜So do I,’ she heard Xander say. ‘When you’re bigger you can ride in my car.’
    â€˜The big red one?’ asked Joey interestedly.
    â€˜Yes, that one.’
    â€˜Does it go fast?’ Joey enquired, making ‘vrooming’ noises with his own toy car.
    â€˜Very fast,’ said Xander.
    â€˜I like fast,’ said Joey.
    â€˜Me too,’ agreed his father.
    â€˜Can we see it now, outside?’
    â€˜Next time. Today it’s too late,’
    â€˜All right. Next time.’ Joey was contented. He went on chatting to his father.
    All the while Vi sat and did her knitting, the needles clicking away rhythmically.
    Xander did not speak to Clare until just before he left.
    â€˜I must go now, Joey,’ he said. ‘But I’ll come back tomorrow.’
    â€˜OK,’ said Joey. ‘Then I’ll see your car. Bye.’
    Xander looked down at him, one long last look, drinking in every detail, then turned to go. Clare followed him down the narrow hallway to the front door. As he opened it he turned to her.
    â€˜If you try and run again,’ he said, and the way he spoke made the hairs rise on the back of her neck, ‘I will hunt you down. Tomorrow—’ he looked at her, his eyes like weights, pressing into her ‘—we