‘You didn’t upset me. You...surprised me.’ She turned to the portrait, her pulse thumping madly. It showed a young woman with auburn hair and laughing blue eyes. On her lap sat a little girl of three, clasping a ragged old teddy. Alice knew she was three because her parents had told the story often, of how they’d had to cajole her to sit still long enough for her mother to complete the self-portrait. Of how Alice had squirmed and shifted until her father handed her Old Ted.
‘It was the last painting of hers that my father sold. He didn’t want to part with it.’ Her throat closed on the words. Money had been so tight when David offered them somewhere to live.
‘It’s yours.’ Adoni’s voice was gravel.
‘But I can’t.’ She swung to face him. ‘I didn’t accept your—’
‘This is a gift. No strings attached. It should never have left your family.’ His voice softened. ‘It belongs with you, Alice. I know how important family is to you. You need to have this.’
‘But...’ His expression stopped her protests. She couldn’t define what she saw there, except that it was unfamiliar and compelling. Emotion rippled through her, right to that place inside that had felt hollow since the day she’d left Greece, left Adoni.
Abruptly, to her horror, tears filled her eyes again.
‘Don’t,karthia mou.’ His warm hand cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking the moisture away, making her shudder with the effort of restraint. She wanted to bury her head against him, wrap him close and not let him go. She’d been solonelywithout him. As if she’d left part of herself behind in Greece.
‘It’s too much.’ She blinked and lifted her chin.
His eyes captured hers. ‘It’s yours, Alice, as it should always have been. It’s a work of great beauty and passion and I want you and our child to have it.’
Alice’s mouth crumpled. It would be so much easier if she could dislike Adoni, but that was impossible. With every word he made her decision harder to bear.
‘If it makes you feel better about accepting, perhaps you’d consider doing me a favour in return?’
‘What’s that?’ Alice gave up trying to pretend she wasn’t crying. She sniffed, wiping her eyes.
‘Be with me when I meet Vassili and his sons.’
Alice’s mouth dropped open. ‘You’re meeting them?’
The grim lines around Adoni’s mouth and the tension in his tall frame gave his answer. ‘Yes.’ He lifted a hand to his collarbone then dropped it. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve thought of nothing else. And I decided you were right. I’ve been a coward.’
‘Adoni!’ She reached out to touch him, then curbed the gesture, withdrawing her hand. ‘You’re not—’
‘I am.’ He straightened to his full, impressive height. ‘I pretended family didn’t matter. That the past didn’t matter, but I was living a lie.’ His voice softened. ‘So I rang him.’
‘You did?’ Alice didn’t hesitate this time. She grasped his hand, feeling the tremor that ran through him. Worry stabbed her. She’d been so ready to give advice, to tell him what was wrong with his life. But who was she to judge? ‘Was it...?’
‘It was difficult. Stilted.’ Adoni’s mouth rucked up at one side. It wasn’t a smile yet Alice’s heart flipped over. ‘I’m not sure about forgiving him, but I’m willing to see. And I want to see the boys. I’ve missed them.’ He covered her hand with his. ‘Thank you, Alice. Without you giving me a kick I’d never have made the first move.’
‘I didn’t do anything. I—’
‘You did,karthia mou.’
The expression in his eyes, that caressing tone of voice did terrible things to her willpower.
‘I wish you wouldn’t say things I don’t understand. You know I—’
‘Karthia moumeansmy heart.’
Alice’s own heart gave a mighty leap at his words.
‘S’agapó, Alice. I love you.’ He lifted her shaking hand to his mouth and kissed it, slow and gentle, and suddenly her knees were so wobbly she thought she’d collapse. Except he lashed his other arm around her, enfolding her in protective heat.
‘Adoni? I don’t understand. You don’t do love. You don’t trust or—’
‘Didn’t. Past tense.’ He smiled and it was like sunshine after a month of grey skies, warming her to the core. Yet his eyes didn’t smile. His eyes were sombre. ‘I thought I loved Chryssa but I was too young to realise it was infatuation. What I feel for you is far beyond that. And, before you ask, it’s not just because of the baby. It’syou, the woman you are, the way you make me feel.’
He pressed another kiss to her hand, her palm this time, and desire shot through her like flaming ribbons. Desire, hope and disbelief. This couldn’t be happening.