Page 35 of Modern Romance July 2025 #4-8
But he would also not be surprised if she were as she seemed. That he was indeed the father of the baby, if there was a baby. They had shared a night together, and if he looked back on it, perhaps he had gotten…careless.
The one thing he had spent his adult life avoiding. The one thing that terrified him. He would not be his father. He would not consider every possible outcome.
So, that’s what he did. Rather than beat himself up for a…misstep, he used the waiting time as an opportunity to learn about his Becca.
Rebecca Murphy, he found, sitting at the desk in the office of his Athens house. He didn’t spend much time here. He preferred his island estate about two hours away. Private. Isolated. His and his alone, but sometimes work required he stay here.
If it turned out she was telling the truth, they wouldn’t stay here. They would need more privacy, more…distance, in order to figure out a way forward.
And he would figure out a way forward. First, he needed to know her.
The first surprise was that she was an employee at the Desmond Estate, not a true wedding guest. The second was that she had been an equestrian.
Had won all sorts of championships in Ireland and then other places in Europe.
It seemed there’d been some kind of Olympic bid, before she’d had a terrible fall with her horse.
There wasn’t much on what had happened after, but there were murmurs of a long medical recovery. It explained the scar he’d seen on her hip that night, an unfortunate memory. Because it brought to mind other moments.
The way she’d smelled of spring rains and something earthy that he’d never been able to identify since. Something unique to her, or maybe Ireland.
The way her pale skin had felt under his palms, the way that scar along her hip and leg had added an interesting point of imperfection amid the otherwise perfect.
He scowled at his thoughts. No one was perfect, himself included, more was the pity. The night had no doubt taken up residence in his head like an apparition because it had been…out of character. Because she had not been a carefully vetted romantic partner.
She had been a moment of weakness, and while he’d been fine with that in the moment, he had not expected it to have consequences.
As if on cue, a knock sounded on the doorframe and Theo looked up to find the doctor there.
The man had spent most of his career in his father’s employ, and Theo didn’t love the fact he’d had cause to use the man, but he knew he could trust him.
There would be no whiff of Becca or his child until he was ready.
“Paternity is positive, Mr. Nikolaou. The baby is healthy, measuring at about nineteen weeks. The mother is healthy as well and has been receiving good care and taking care of herself.”
Paternity is positive.
Even though Theo had been half expecting that outcome, it did something to him. Something unwieldy. But he pushed it down, offered the doctor his thanks, showed him out of the house.
Then took a few moments standing in the entry to decide how to move forward. While breathing through the tendrils of something that tried to wind around his lungs.
No, there would be no thinking . No feeling . Action was needed. He strode through the house to the room he’d left Becca— Rebecca in. Things needed to be decided.
Things needed to change. He could hardly allow her to go back to Ireland. She carried his child.
His child.
The reality of that was too complicated to parse, so he had to focus on the practicalities. She would need to stay in Greece. His child would be born here, where his money and influence would matter and give the child the best of everything.
He wasn’t so arrogant he thought Rebecca would agree to this quickly and easily, but surely she would see with little argument that it only made sense.
He opened the door of the room. It didn’t even occur to him to knock.
Rebecca had been lying on the bed, but now pushed herself up into a sitting position, regarding him with cool blue eyes. “So, congratulations. You’re a father.” There was no feeling to how she delivered those words, and still they landed like little, painful blows.
A father. There was a child. His child. And it brought to mind all the ways his own father had failed him. All the ways his mother had abandoned him.
All the ways he would not fail or abandon his child. He refused.
“But you don’t need to be one, Theo,” Becca continued, something like entreaty in her tone now. “I can go back to Ireland, to my life, and you don’t need to concern yourself with this.”
She was serious, and she was offering him the easy way out. It was insulting, for many reasons, but he did not allow himself to sound affronted or angry. His voice was calm and firm and brooked no argument.
“You are not going home, Becca.”
She blinked, then frowned, pushing to her feet. “Yes, I am. I will do what I want, and I will be returning to Ireland. Tonight. If there’s something you’d like to discuss, we can arrange a…a…meeting. Later.”
“I am afraid that cannot be arranged. Instead, you will stay.” But it had to be more than that. It had to be everything. If he was to have a child, his child would have everything . “And we shall marry.”
The noise she made was some mixture of a gasp and a shriek. “No we shall not. What the hell is wrong with you?”
He shrugged. “I do not think much, frankly. This cannot function with you in Ireland and me here. I have a job here. Responsibilities here. So we will stay here.”
“I have a job.”
“Come, Rebecca, at best mucking stables is a hobby. You live with your parents. I run a billion-dollar company, and every estate I own is mine and mine alone.”
“Well, la-dee-da .”
For a moment he was so surprised by her dripping disdain, he found himself at a loss for words.
But he found them, as he always did. “You will stay. We will marry. It’s the only way forward.”
She shook her head, not just bristling but fuming now. “You’re delusional.” She tried to push past him, but he would not be pushed. He looked down at her.
“No. But I am powerful.”
“What, you’re just going to keep me here against my will?” she demanded, her hands fisting on her hips as she glared up at him. “Marry me against my will?”
She was getting a bit hysterical, so he remained calm. He lifted a shoulder, held her wild gaze as he continued to bodily block her exit. “If your will is wrong, then I will have to.”