Page 55 of The Billionaire's Demand

‘Who is it, Eliana?’

There was a note of fear in the voice, and she knew why. She turned her head, called back, wanting to reassure.

‘It’s all right—’

But a hand was closing over the handle of the buggy. Leandros had stepped forward, blocking her.

‘Inside,’ he said.

It was not a request or a suggestion.

Numbly, she drew back indoors. Her mind was in free-fall—but how could it not be?

He followed her in. Looked past the narrow entrance hall into the living room beyond.

Incomprehension in his face.

Slowly...very slowly...Leandros took in what he was seeing. A living room with a dining table by the window, a little balcony beyond. The room was filled with old-fashioned furniture, sideboards and cupboards heavy with ornaments, pictures on the wall, a settee covered with a crochet throw, and another swathing a commodious armchair in which a grey-haired woman was sitting, a walking stick propped up beside her chair. Beyond the living room, Leandros could see a small galley kitchen.

The grey-haired woman was speaking, sounding both alarmed and confused. Her local Macedonian accent was distinct to his ears.

‘Eliana, who is this? Why is he here?’

He turned his attention to the woman. ‘I am a...a friend of Eliana’s, kyria,’ he said. ‘I am sorry to disturb you—but I need to speak to Eliana.’

‘She was about to take Miki to the park,’ the elderly woman said.

‘Miki?’ Leandros echoed.

His eyes went back to the infant. Maybe two years old, or three—he didn’t know much about the ages of small children. The little boy was looking at him with interest in his dark eyes.

‘My grandson,’ the woman said.

There was pride in her voice—and doting affection too.

‘We can still go to the park, Ya-Ya.’

Eliana’s voice made Leandros turn back to her. She was as white as a ghost, her hands tightly gripping the handle of the buggy.

She looked at Leandros.

He nodded. Absolutely nothing here made sense. But getting out of there did.

He gave a brief, perfunctory smile to the grey-haired woman, just to be civil, and then he was turning back into the entrance lobby, reopening the front door that he had closed. Pointedly waiting for Eliana to precede him.

‘We’ll take the lift,’ he said.

Eliana, her heart thudding as it had been from the moment her eyes had seen Leandros, sat on a bench in the little park that was only a street away from the apartment.

It was a pretty enough place, with mulberry trees for shade, pleasant paths, well-planted flower-beds, hibiscus shrubs, and an area of grass, dry and brown in this season after summer. There was a children’s play area, with swings and slides, a little roundabout and a see-saw, and a few other attractions to appeal to small children. Miki was seated on one—a colourful pony perched on a strong steel spring, rocking himself happily backwards and forwards. Rubberised flooring meant that even falling off would not be painful.

Leandros sat down beside her.

Memory pierced. How they sat side by side that afternoon in the Luxembourg gardens, into which this little urban park would have fitted a score of times over, eating their patisserie, watching the Parisians and the tourists enjoying themselves.

‘So talk,’ said Leandros at her side.

His voice was grim. And, as before, it was not a request or an invitation.

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