Page 2 of Greek’s Christmas Heir

The sumptuously theatrical Delphine had not accepted it when he no longer took her calls. First she had tried to access him through his various offices, and had thrown fits when denied—repeatedly—by his security personnel. Then she had changed her approach, claiming to every media outlet she could locate that Anax had treated her appallingly. She had dined out on fabricated tales of his bad behavior for quite a few months.

When he had only enjoyed her company for only a month or so, and infrequently at that, and had never given her the slightest reason to believe that he saw her as anything but a pleasant diversion.

He was always scrupulously clear on that score. With every woman who ventured near.

Anax had seen too much of what his parents had calledpassion.He had watched itsour and curdle over the years. He had witnessed its slide into a misery almost beyond recounting, but neither his father nor mother had wished to leave because they had married in the church. Because marriagemeant something,his mother would whisper fiercely. Because they hadtaken vows.

Though he rather thought his father had been more concerned with the more prosaic benefits of having his wife be little more than his servant, at his beck and call. Evgenia had provided the unworthy Paraskevas with food. She had kept the succession of ever seedier flats clean and something like homey. She knew better than to question him about where he went or what he did when he was out. And she’d learned fast not to fight back. Or even look at him funny.

It had not taken young Anax much to conclude that marriage was a curse, passion was a lie, and love was a good, hard, bitter laugh.

His father had never spoken of such things. It was his mother who spoke of love. Evgenia still did and had, in recent years, become more and more dedicated to the church that, to Anax’s way of thinking, kept its own foot as firmly on her neck as her husband always had.

He knew that he had not given Delphine any false hope concerning his attentions.

You are not the only person alive with admirers, Anax,she had hissed at him the last time they had come face-to-face with each other. The last time she had engineered such a meeting, that was.You might be surprised to learn that I have a great many admirers, too.

He had not doubted it. She was perilously beautiful. Anax would not have noticed her otherwise.

But that particular night he had been trying to be his better self. Not the furious Ignatios male inside of him, who had wanted to snarl at her. Who had wanted to hurl out harsh words, because surely she deserved them after all the lies she’d told—

He hadn’t. He’d only inclined his head and murmured the dismissive,Endaxi.

Later, he would interrogate the host of that ball and his own security team. Later he would demand to know how she could possibly have found her way into the party when he had made it clear to the entire planet that she could not appear anywhere he was. That she could be neither invited nor welcomed to any event that invited or welcomed him.

This had not been a hard choice for anyone.

Delphine was a little-known hyphenate and had never been very good at any part of the many things she claimed to do. Acting. Modeling. Influencing.

Meanwhile Anax was...himself.

He had been pleased with himself for remaining polite. It had felt like growth.

You might as well end the tabloid games,he had said after a moment, when all she’d done was stare at him as if imparting some kind of subliminal message that way. Anax could have told her that such things did not work on him. Despite a great many attempts.I revel in a bad reputation. It matters to no one and, if I am honest, makes me sound much more interesting than I am.

Delphine had bared her teeth at him.It can always get worse, Anax. Always.

Anax had shrugged at that.Unlikely. But by all means, try.

He hadn’t thought much about her since. Nearly eighteen months had passed. There had been no more tabloid stories. Delphine had not made any surprise appearances. If he’d remembered her at all, it was only to assume that some other shiny thing had caught her attention and diverted it from him.

But then, two weeks ago, his head of security had come to him in his gleaming offices in Athens. It was a chilly December, cold for Greece yet bright. Anax had been enjoying a few rounds of intense negotiations that week, something he liked to keep his hand in despite the phalanx of attorneys he had at the ready.

A man had to make his own fun.

You have received a worrying letter,Stavros had told him grimly.

My understanding is that I receive a great number of worrying letters,Anax had replied mildly.

He’d closed his laptop and sat back in his chair. He had not been thinking about letters. He’d been thinking of the fiery actress who had indicated she would like to see more of him, which was a pity, as it meant he needed to extricate himself. He was wondering how worried he should be about Evgenia these days, as his mother’s devotion to her church schedule was taking up the bulk of her time when, surely, she should be resting her way through her later years. He was deliberately not responding to his sister’s latest spate of accusatory texts that would get anyone else fired.

Negotiations were a charming distraction from these things.

But his head of security continued to stand there before Anax’s admittedly extravagant desk, a slab of marble that could rival the Acropolis.

We took pains to authenticate this letter before bringing it to your attention, sir,he had said.It would have given me great pleasure to be able to dismiss it.

And then, with great deliberation, Stavros had laid it all out.

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