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better, but it had a little children’s play area where Georgy liked to watch other children playing—as he was doing now.
    Even though they had the bench to themselves, it seemed too small to Lyn. She was as punishingly conscious today of Anatole Telonidis’s physicality as she had been the day before.
    How can he be so devastatingly good-looking?
    It was a rhetorical question, and one that every covert glance at him confirmed was unnecessary. It took an effort of will to remind herself brusquely that it was completely irrelevant that she was so punishingly conscious of just how amazing-looking he was.
    All that matters is that he wants Georgy to go to Greece...
    That was all she had to hold in her mind. Not how strange it felt to be sitting beside him on a chilly park bench, with Georgy’s buggy pulled up beside them. A flicker went through her. Others would see a man and a woman in a children’s park with a baby in a buggy.
    As if they were a family.
    A strange little ripple went through her—a little husk of yearning. She was being the best mother she could to Georgy, her beloved sister’s son, but however much she tried to substitute for Lindy there was no one to do the same for Georgy’s father.
    She pushed the thought away. He had her , and that was what was important. Essential. Vital. Whatever Anatole wanted to say to her this afternoon, nothing on earth would change that!
    ‘Have you given any more thought to what we spoke of yesterday?’ he opened. ‘Bringing Georgy out to Greece to meet his grandfather?’ He paused minutely. ‘I spoke to Timon yesterday.’ Anatole’s voice changed in a moment, and Lyn could hear the emotion in it. ‘I cannot tell you how overjoyed he is to learn of Georgy’s existence!’
    Lyn’s hands twisted in her lap. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I just don’t know.’ Her eyes went to the man sitting beside her, looking at him with a troubled expression. ‘You talk about it being just a visit. But that isn’t what you said initially! You said you wanted Georgy to be brought up in Greece! What if you simply don’t let Georgy come back here with me? What if you try and keep him in Greece?’
    He could hear, once again, the fear spiking in her voice. Resolve formed in him. ‘I need you to trust me,’ he said.
    ‘How can I?’ she cried wildly.
    Anatole looked at her. Was it going to be like this the whole time? With her doubting everything, distrusting him, fearing him—fighting him? Because he didn’t have time for it—and nor did Timon. Timon had undertaken to talk to his oncologist, to find out whether he was too weak to try the strong drugs that he would have to take if he wanted to keep death at bay, even for a little while. For long enough to see his great-grandson and make him his heir, as Anatole so fervently wanted him to do.
    He took a deep, scissoring breath that went right down into his lungs. He had promised he would do whatever it took to get Marcos’s son out to Greece, to ensure his future was there. But with the baby’s aunt resisting him every step of the way, so it seemed, was it not time to take the radical, drastic action that would dispose of all her arguments? All her objections?
    It would surely disarm her totally. Yet he was balking at it, he knew. The idea that had sparked in his mind the afternoon before was still alight—but it was so drastic that he still could hardly credit that it had occurred to him at all!
    But what else would it take to get her to stop fighting him all the time on what had to happen?
    ‘I understand your fears,’ he said now, keeping his voice as reassuring as he could. ‘But they are not necessary. I told you—there must be a way to resolve this impasse that does not entail conflict.’
    Her eyes were wide and troubled. ‘I don’t see how !’ she exclaimed. ‘You want Georgy to be brought up in Greece, with his father’s family. I want to keep him here with me. How can those two possibly be