Page 9 of The Heir Affair

He turned to his crew member. ‘Tell Angelo we’re good for tonight. We’ll be on the starboard terrace. Make sure no one disturbs us.’

‘Of course, sir,’ the man said, then bowed and disappeared back into the bows of the ship.

As soon as he was gone, Poppy shifted away from that controlling hand.

‘Why does Meghan need to prepare a suite for me?’ she hissed. ‘As soon as this conversation is over, I’m going back to my hostel.’

He frowned. As if he were surprised by the news. She pushed her frustration with him to the fore, to cover the spurt of panic, and the unsettled feeling in her gut.

She already felt overwhelmed, not just by his enormous yacht, but also by the arrogant way he had of simply taking charge, with no apparent consideration of her wishes or feelings.

‘Do you seriously believe we are going to be able to get anything settled tonight?’ he demanded. The arrogance from the restaurant was back full force. Why was she not surprised?

‘What exactly is there to settle?’ she countered, far too aware of the cynical glitter in his eyes. Ever since she’d told him thebaby was his, he’d looked at her as if she were a problem that needed to be solved and to his satisfaction. It hurt to realise he had never been the man she’d thought he was, but it hurt more somehow to realise he thought she was as manipulative and mercenary as he was.

‘You know very well what there is to settle. If this is my child, I intend to be involved.’

If…

She supposed she should have expected that. But still she found herself flinching inside at how little he truly thought of her. But she was still cauterising that wound when he continued.

‘I need to inform my legal team and arrange a DNA test once the child is born. But I do not intend to shirk my financial responsibilities,’ he declared. ‘So, at the very least, we will need to negotiate a suitable amount, which I am sure you are well aware of or you would not have turned up here on the eve of my engagement announcement.’

The hurt and humiliation curdled in her stomach.

Lord spare her from rich men—was every single thing about money to them?

‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong,’ she shot back. ‘The only reason I came to Galicos now was because I knew you would be here. The plan was to get a message to you, so you would know you were going to become a father. I thought I owed you that much.’

The naiveté of that mission struck her now. What had made her believe for a single second a man like him wouldn’t see her appearance here as some kind of shake-down? It hurt to realise she had been so wrong about him. It hurt even more to realise his cruel assumptions had fundamentally shaken her long-held confidence in the essential goodness of people, even billionaires like him. But she did not intend to make that mistake again.

‘I don’t want or expect anything else from you. I never did. And that includes your vast hoards of filthy lucre. Nor do I intend to derail your engagement to Princess Freya.’ She pressed a hand to her bump.Herbump. Not his. And dismissed the hurt that he had fallen in love with someone else so soon after meeting her, because according to the gossip columns his engagement to the Princess had been muted for months. In fact, he might well have already been dating his princess when they had made love in his villa. But that thought just made her feel grubby as well as used, so she tried not to think about it.

‘I chose to have this baby, and I intend to raise it, on my own, without any help from you. If you really want to be a part of its life, I will agree to a DNA test after it’s born to confirm you’re the father. But if you don’t want to be involved, there’s really no need for one. Because I have absolutely nothing I need to prove to you. And nor does my child.’

She huffed out a breath, glad to have got all that off her chest.

‘So now we’ve got that settled, you can take me back to the marina.’

His frown became catastrophic, but she put that down to the arrogance that made him believe any woman who he slept with had to be after his money.

‘Your vast hoard of filthy lucre…’ What the…?

Xander was pretty sure he could hear the ticking time bomb of his temper about to explode.

‘The hell I will…’ he growled, the effort not to yell at the woman in front of him so great he felt as if he were chewing on a rock.

He never lost his temper. Not with anyone. Not even his brother, Theo, who had made it his life’s mission to push Xander’s buttons. Because he had learned as a boy that whenpeople knew they could hurt you, or provoke you, it only gave them power, while you lost your own.

That this slip of a woman had managed to do what even Theo had only achieved occasionally, and only because his brother was the one person he truly cared about, was even more infuriating. Why did it matter what she thought of him, or his money? It didn’t. Nor should it bother him that he might have underestimated her. And her motives.

If she wasnothere to destroy his marriage plans, or blackmail him, he should be rejoicing. Why should he feel insulted that she had decided she didn’t need his money, that somehow his wealth was tainted?

But the truth was, he did feel insulted.

His company, and his career, his success in business was the thing he was most proud of in his life… That through hard work, single-mindedness and taking sometimes insane risks he had lifted himself out of the poverty and the insecurity that had marred so much of his childhood. Being driven and determined, with his eyes always squarely on the prize of financial security, was how he had finally buried that unwanted, neglected, brutalised boy who had woken up one morning to find his father gone, and his brother crying with fear and hunger. And he would be damned if this girl would make him feel ashamed of what he had done to protect them both again. Nor would he let her stop him from protecting his own child.

‘Are you refusing to take me back to the wharf?’ she asked, her voice determined.