‘Oh...thank you.’
His gaze rested on me as he lowered himself into his own chair. ‘Again, you sound surprised. Believe it or not I want things to go as smoothly as possible for both of us.’
The knowledge that this included simple things such as what I ate widened the warm pool swelling inside me. Even cautioning myself that it was foolish to entertain such a sensation didn’t do anything to stem it as I helped myself to pitta bread and tzatziki, feta cheese and chickpea salad and succulent vine leaves stuffed with lamb and cucumber.
‘Where was Andreos born?’
His deep voice throbbed with one simple emotion—a hunger to know. And for the very first time since my decision to live life on my terms, twelve long months ago, I experienced a deep stirring of guilt.
But along with that came a timely warning not to divulge everything. Knowledge was power to men like Axios. Men like my father. And every precious uninterrupted moment with my son was as vital to me as the breath in my lungs.
Although in the past four days since my return, Axios had seemed a little more...malleable. While the man who’d laid down the law and walked away from me in Agistros still lurked in there somewhere, this Axios tended to ask more and command less.
But still I carefully selected the bits of information that wouldn’t connect too many dots for him and replied, ‘He was born in a small clinic in Kenya, where I was volunteering. He came a week early, but there were no complications and the birth was relatively easy.’
He didn’t answer. Not immediately. The glass of red wine he was drinking with his meal remained cradled in his hand and his expression reflective and almost...yearning as he stared into the middle distance.
>
‘I would’ve liked to be there,’ he rasped. ‘Very much.’
The warm pool inside me grew hotter, turning into a jet of feeling spiralling high with emotions I needed to wrestle under control before they got out of hand.
But even as the warning hit hard I was opening my mouth, uttering words I shouldn’t. ‘One of the nurses filmed the birth...if you’d like to see it?’
What are you doing sharing your most precious moments with him?
He’s Andreos’s father.
Axios inhaled sharply, the glass discarded as he stared fiercely at me. ‘You have a video?’
I jerked out a nod. ‘Yes. Would you—?’
‘Yes.’ The word was bullet-sharp, and the cadence of his breathing altered as his gaze bored into me. ‘Yes. Very much,’ he repeated.
For the longest time we remained frozen, our gazes locked in a silent exchange I didn’t want to examine or define. Soon it morphed into something else. Something equally intimate. Twice as dangerous.
Perhaps it was in the molten depths of his eyes, or in the not so secret wish to relive what had happened upstairs ramping up that ever-present chemistry. Whatever it was, we’d brought it alive on that sofa and now it sat between us, a writhing wire ready to sizzle and electrify and burn at the smallest hint of weakening.
Forcing my brain back on track didn’t help. Hadn’t we been discussing childbirth? The product of what had happened in a bedroom the last time we were both present in one.
‘I’ll let you have the recording after lunch,’ I blurted, then picked up my water glass and drank simply to distract myself.
From the corner of my eye I watched him lounge back in his seat, although his body still held that coil of tension that never dissipated.
After a moment he picked up his glass and drained it. ‘Efkharisto,’ he murmured. ‘Now, on to other things. Arrangements are being made to equip you with a new wardrobe. My mother tells me the things you left behind are hopelessly out of date.’
I frowned, the change of subject from the soul-stirring miracle of Andreos’s birth to the mundanity of high fashion throwing me for a few seconds. ‘I don’t need a new wardrobe.’
‘Perhaps not—but might I suggest you let the stylists come anyway? Who knows? You might find something you like for our first engagement on Saturday,’ he replied.
The last tendrils of yearning had left his voice, to be replaced by the cadence I knew best. One of powerful mogul. Master of all he surveyed. Despite the pleasant heat of the sun a cool breeze whispered over my skin, bringing me harshly back to earth.
‘What’s happening on Saturday?’
‘It’s been four days since you returned. It’s time we presented you properly to the world. My mother has organised a party in your honour. She was unwell when we married last year, and couldn’t make it to the ceremony. She’s anxious to meet you. And, of course, she’s yet to meet her grandson. Call this a belated welcome, if you will, but several business acquaintances will be there, so it’s imperative that everything goes smoothly.’
‘Is it really necessary to parade me before your friends and family?’