The statement was so unapologetically arrogant I laughed. The sound seemed to arrest him, his eyes turning that molten shade that sent heat pulsing through my blood as we stared at each other.
‘I believe this is the first time I’ve heard you laugh,’ he rasped, his gaze raking over my face to settle brazenly on my mouth, almost effortlessly calling up another blush that suffused my face. ‘I like it.’
Without warning his hand rose, his fingers trailing down one hot cheek and along my jaw before dropping down to recapture his son’s foot.
Something heavy and urgent and profound shifted inside me. The thought that I didn’t know this facet of the man I’d married and that I wanted to hit me square in the midriff, before flaring a deep yearning towards all the dark corners of my heart.
My smile felt frayed around the edges as I fought to maintain my composure, fought not to blurt out another prayer for things I didn’t deserve.
I’d been given so much already.
Gloom wormed through my heart, the fear of what lay ahead and of fighting an uphill battle I might not win casting shadows over the gift of another day.
I was still struggling to banish it when a knock came on the door.
‘Ah, right on time,’ he murmured.
With another heart-stopping smile Axios launched himself out of bed. Naked and gladiator-like in all his glory, he walked across the suite, stopping long enough to pull on a dark dressing robe before heading for the door.
He returned a minute later, wheeling a solid silver trolley loaded with breakfast dishes. Bypassing his side of the bed, he stopped the trolley close to me before hitching up a thigh and settling himself next to me.
I tried and failed not to watch him pour coffee for himself, tea for me, and lift a large, succulent bowl of ripe strawberries.
He waited until I’d put Andreos over my shoulder and begun rubbing his back to elicit a burp before he shifted closer. Dipping one end of a strawberry into a bowl of rich cream, he leaned forward and then held the plump fruit against my lip.
?
?Taste.’ His voice was deep, low. Hypnotising.
I leaned forward, parted my lips and took the offering. He watched me chew with the kind of rapt attention that could wreak havoc with a woman’s sensibilities. Only after I’d swallowed did he help himself to a piece—minus the cream.
He alternated between feeding me and himself until the bowl was empty, and then he set about piling more food on a plate.
‘I can’t eat all that,’ I protested as I laid a very satisfied Andreos down beside me.
Axios shrugged, setting the tray in my lap. ‘Our son is very demanding. And I get the feeling that state is only going to get more challenging. You’ll need all the advantages you can get.’
About to tell him there was nothing I was anticipating more, the words stuck in my throat, and a bolt of heartache clenched my heart in a merciless vice.
Thankfully Axios was in the process of lifting a newspaper from a side pocket of the trolley, granting me a scant few seconds to get my emotions under control before he straightened and flicked the paper open.
Then a different sort of tension assailed me.
Seeing the pictures gracing the front page, I felt my gut twist. While I’d known we’d be under scrutiny last night, it hadn’t occurred to me that we’d actually make front-page news.
The first picture had been taken when we’d first entered the ballroom. With our heads close together, Ax’s masculine cheek almost touching mine, it hinted at an edgy intimacy between us that was almost too private.
From the look on Axios’s face, he didn’t feel the same.
He turned the page and my insides churned faster. There were more pictures, including some of us on the balcony, his hand splayed on my back, right before he pulled me in for that toe-curling kiss.
Axios stared at the pictures with something close to smug satisfaction.
‘Did you know we were being photographed?’ I asked, biting into a piece of ham-layered toast and concentrating on stirring my tea so I wouldn’t have to look at the picture. At how the sight of Axios in a tuxedo continued to wreak havoc with my equilibrium. Nor face the fact that a very large part of me was wondering what true intimacy with this man whose name I’d taken would feel like.
He shrugged. ‘I suspected we might be.’
That he was very much okay with it—had perhaps even wanted us to be photographed—was evident.