“Good night, my son,” he whispered.
Freddie yawned, his eyes closed as he continued to sleep, flinging his chubby arms back over his head.
Stavros turned, lifted his bag over his shoulder and started down the hall. Turning back to say good-night, he stopped when he saw Holly standing in the doorway. Her heart-shaped face was haunted.
“Do you really care about Freddie?” she said hoarsely. “You’re not just doing it out of pride, or to hurt me? You really want to be his father?”
“Yes,” he said in a low voice. He dropped the bag to the floor and moved close to her. “And I want you.”
She looked up, her expression stricken. “You...”
“I want you. I want to hold you in my arms. I want you in my bed. I’ve tried to forget that night. I can’t. I’ve thought of it for the last year.”
She trembled, searching his gaze.
“You’re trying to seduce me,” she whispered.
“Yes. I am.” Cupping her face, he lowered his head toward hers. “I want you forever...”
And in the shadowy hall outside the bedroom, he lowered his lips toward hers and kissed her, soft and slow.
For a moment, she froze beneath his embrace, and he thought she’d push him away.
Then slowly, tremblingly, her lips parted. And it was the sweetest, purest kiss Stavros had ever known. It took every ounce of his willpower to finally pull away, when all he wanted to do was take her back into the bedroom and make love to her.
But he didn’t want her for just one night. He wanted her as his wife. And if he’d learned anything from nearly twenty years in mergers and acquisitions, it was to always leave the other side wanting more.
“Good night,” he said huskily, cupping her cheek as he looked deeply into her eyes. And he left her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HOLLY HAD TOSSED and turned all night in the big bed.
She couldn’t stop thinking of Stavros’s voice last night.
Holly, if I’d told you I was dying it would have only bound you to me more. You would have given me everything, all your heart and your life, until I died—and even after. It would have destroyed you.
Put that way, she could almost forgive him for what he’d done. Because he was right. If, last Christmas, he’d taken her in his arms and told her the truth, she would have immediately done anything, given anything, to help him.
You’re the most loving person I’ve ever known.
He’d made it sound like a character flaw.
Maybe it was. She thought of how she’d spent all her adult life caring for others over herself. She didn’t mean Freddie. He was a helpless baby.
But Oliver wasn’t helpless. Neither was her sister. And for years, Holly had sacrificed herself for their needs, for no good reason. She thought of how Nicole had blamed Holly on the phone for their marriage problems.
You should be here taking care of things for him. And for me!
Maybe Stavros was right. Maybe, in some ways, Holly’s need to always put other people first had been wrong. It certainly hadn’t done anything good for Nicole or Oliver, who only seemed more helpless and resentful after her years of sacrifice.
And if Holly had let herself fall in love with Stavros last year, she suddenly knew she would have given him everything, too—whether he wanted it or not.
Instead, when he’d rejected her, she’d been forced to do everything on her own. She’d gained strength, and confidence she’d never had before. Both important qualities for a good mother.
And for a good father?
She shivered. She was starting to believe that Stavros really cared about Freddie, and wanted to be a family. He seemed determined to marry Holly.