Jennifer Faye - Claiming The Drakos Heir

As good as the kiss had been, it had been a mistake. And just when he’d promised himself that he was going to be responsible and do what was best for the family—for the baby. Because he owed it to his brother’s memory.

And right about now, he was certain Nile would be frowning at him. He’d let his desires rule, but that was the last time. He didn’t care how beautiful Popi was, as he could ignore her charms. He could be the responsible man his brother always believed he was capable of being.

That meant stepping up and becoming a father to his niece or nephew. The acknowledgment of that was immense.

But Apollo was done walking away.

He’d done that enough in his life.

This time he was staying. He would do what was right.

Being a father meant giving up his freedom. Nile would say that it was past time, and perhaps he was right after this latest accident. It had opened Apollo’s eyes to what was important—family. He never got to tell his brother that—he never got to thank his brother for never giving up on him.

The only thing he could do now for his brother was to make sure his son or daughter was raised as a Drakos and received all the privileges that afforded them.

And that left Popi. Unlike her and her claim for sole custody, he would not exclude her from the child’s life. He didn’t know how exactly it would work, but he wouldn’t exile Popi from the child she’d carried. There had to be a reasonable compromise. He just needed time to think.

It was late in the evening and Apollo was still on the island. In fact, he’d taken up residence on Popi’s porch. He didn’t like being dismissed. His father used to do it and it grated on Apollo’s nerves.

He settled back in the chair and stared into the night. He recalled the determination written all over Popi’s beautiful face when it came to raising the baby. But it wasn’t going to stop him. He hadn’t been there for his brother, but he was here now for his nephew or niece.

He’d already had the most highly recommended nanny put on retainer. She was just waiting for his word and she would move into his family’s grand estate, just outside Athens. There was a very talented cook. And then there was Anna, the housekeeper. A smile tugged at his lips when he recalled Anna. She never put up with anyone’s nonsense, including his. Everybody necessary to provide for his niece or nephew would be awaiting them. It would be just as it was when he was young.

Apollo stopped rocking the chair on Popi’s porch. Was that what he wanted for the baby? A life like he had?

Crunch. Crunch .

The sound of footsteps on the crushed-seashell walk drew Apollo from his thoughts. It was dark out now. The reception had gone on for quite a while. And then there had been the toot of the ferryboat sweeping the guests off to the mainland.

The bright moonlight streaming down illuminated Popi’s face. Apollo had to admit that if circumstances were different—way different—he would have been drawn to Popi. The fact that she was single and carrying someone else’s baby didn’t diminish the attraction.

The distinct intake of breath let him know that she’d spotted him, not that he’d been hiding.

Popi stomped up the couple of steps to the porch. She turned to him and pressed her hands to her hips. “What are you still doing here?”

He got to his feet. “I told you I wasn’t leaving.”

In the shadows, he wasn’t able to see her clearly, but he got the distinct impression she was glaring at him. So be it. He wasn’t here to make her happy—nor himself for that matter. He was here to make sure the right thing was done concerning the child. And that was for it be raised as a Drakos. He would teach them what they needed to know to take over the Drakos legacy, the way his brother would have done.

Toot-toot.

Another ferry was about to pull out with its load of happy but weary wedding guests. And that was just fine with him because he didn’t want any other interruptions. He needed to get through to Popi that whatever she had planned for the baby wasn’t going to happen.

She moved toward the door. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”

He moved in front of her. Having the entire evening alone, he’d formulated a plan. “I think you should move to Athens until the baby is born.”

“Where I give birth is none of your concern. Now I’m going to bed. Good night, Mr. Drakos.”

And without another word, she moved past him and entered the bungalow. The door slammed shut behind her.

When he’d arrived on the island, he hadn’t known what to expect. It certainly hadn’t been this very determined, very frustrating woman. But he could be just as stubborn.

He would not walk away from the baby—not like he walked away from his brother. He would be the man his brother wanted him to be. It was the least he could do.

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