The Greek Billionaire's Baby Revenge(47)

It was an exquisitely heady feeling. She wanted to do cartwheels across the penthouse.

She wanted to kiss Nikos right now.

Where was he? In the kitchen, making her breakfast? Humming to herself, she rose from the bed and threw on a satin robe, barely stopping long enough to loosely tie the belt to cover her naked body. She paused briefly outside the door of the second bedroom, where Misha was sleeping. She heard only blessed silence.

She smiled to herself. With any luck she and Nikos would have time for more than a kiss before their child woke up demanding breakfast.

She went down the hall and found the kitchen, but it was empty. The immaculate white counters looked as if they’d never even been touched. Nikos was probably already working in his office. Wouldn’t he be surprised and happy if she made him coffee, eggs and toast?

Looking in the bare cupboards and refrigerator, she made a face. Even she couldn’t manage to manufacture breakfast out of sugar cubes, Greek olives and ice. She turned away when she heard voices down the hall. She followed the sound, stopping outside the door at the other end of the hall.

Muffled through the door, she heard a man’s voice say, “Sir, in my opinion you’re making an enormous mistake. As your attorney, I must advise—”

“Since I’m paying you five hundred dollars an hour, I won’t waste more time discussing it. I’ve heard your complaints. Thank you for your assistance. There’s the door.”

Anna’s ear was pressed against the wood; she jumped as the door was flung open and an older man in a dark gray suit came through it.

He gave her a sharp glance, then a scowl. “Congratulations, miss.” He put on his hat and stomped out of the apartment with his briefcase.

“Anna. You’re awake,” Nikos said. “Come in.”

His face was dark, half hidden in the shadows of morning where he sat behind a black lacquer desk. The furniture here was as sleek and soulless as everything else in this penthouse. Anna suddenly felt uneasy.

“I thought you were going to wake me up,” she said. “Early-morning wedding and all that.” She glanced behind her. “Why was your lawyer here? Oh. He brought the prenup?”

His eyes flicked at her in surprise. “You knew I wanted you to sign a prenuptial agreement?”

“I assumed you would. I mean, of course you’d want me to sign one. You’re a wealthy man,” she said lamely, even as disappointment surged through her. He didn’t trust her. He honestly thought she cared about his money, that she’d try to take it. He thought they were at risk of getting a divorce. It cast a pall over her happiness.

Then she realized what he’d said. “Wait a minute. You wanted for me to sign a prenup? But not any more?”

“No,” he said quietly. “Not any more.”

She blinked as the joy came back through her. He’d realized he could trust her!

“Nikos,” she breathed. She crossed the room in five steps and, pulling back his chair, climbed in his lap and threw her arms around him. “You won’t regret it,” she murmured against the warm skin of his neck. “I’ll never let you down. I’ll be true to you until the day I die. We’re going to be so happy…”

She kissed him then, a long, lingering kiss that held her whole heart in every breath.

“Stop, Anna. Just stop.” Pushing her off his lap, he stood up, rubbing his temples. His whole body was tense. He didn’t seem like a man who was about to get married. He seemed miserable. And furious. Like a wounded lion with a thorn in his paw. He seemed both hurt and dangerous.

“What is it?” she asked warily. “What’s wrong?”

He picked up a file from his desk and held it out to her without a word, careful not to let their hands touch. Pulling the papers out of the file, she looked down at the first page and her knees felt weak.

She looked up at him slowly, her mouth dry. “I don’t…I don’t understand.”

“There’s nothing to understand. I’m giving you joint custody. You can live wherever you like, and I’ll provide you with a generous allowance. Enough to clear your family’s debt. Enough to support your mother and sister. My brownstone in the Upper East Side will be transferred to your name. My son will have every support, the best schools, vacations abroad—whatever you think best. All I ask is that I have visitation at will, as well as some arrangement to be made for holidays.”

Her head was spinning. “But I don’t need custody papers. Once we’re married we—”

He was shaking his head grimly. “That was a fairytale, Anna, nothing more. I wanted you in my bed, that’s all.”