After The Billionaire's Wedding Vows…

by Lucy Monroe

  In five years, his wife had built her own circle of friends and interests, and while those circles might overlap his and that of his influential family, they were not encompassed by them. Were in fact, he realized, as far removed from them as she could get without removing herself completely from his sphere of influence.

  He finished preparing his wife for bed and then slid her lovely, pregnant body under the sheet and summer-weight duvet. She didn’t shift until he joined her in the bed, forgoing the call to China he’d meant to make. He put his arm over her and tugged her close, the feeling that he was on the verge of having her ripped right from his arms too strong to ignore.

  “Andros,” she whispered against his chest in her sleep.

  He went rigid at the name he hadn’t heard in years, not even during lovemaking. Then without even considering it, he was turning and facing her, gently shaking her shoulder. “Why don’t you call me Andros anymore?”

  “Andros was the man I fell in love with,” she said in a voice that sounded more asleep than awake.

  “And who is Alexandros?”

  “The man I married.” She made a snuffling sound and turned in her sleep. Away from him.

  Alexandros wrapped his body around his wife, his entire perception of his life going through a painful metamorphosis.

  Polly woke warm and relaxed, feeling better than she had all week despite the way the night before had ended.

  She had no memory of undressing or taking off her makeup the night before, but she slept naked, the way her husband liked her, with no day-old mascara clumped on her lashes when she blinked her eyes open.

  Polly was alone in the bed. Nothing new about that, but the single yellow rose on her husband’s pillow was.

  She picked it up and automatically brought it to her nose to sniff as she read the note he’d left with the flower on her pillow.

  Good morning, agape mou.

  Nothing life altering in those four words, except it was the first time in their relationship that Alexandros had written a personal note to her. He didn’t do cards for holidays or anniversaries, or even her birthday. He did big, extravagant gifts that touched her less than a simple card would have done. Money was easy for Alexandros.

  Sentiment would have been harder.

  He did texts and sometimes phone calls, but since she stopped replying immediately or picking up the phone every time his number showed, those instances had become less common.

  She went to find her daughter, knowing the little girl would be up soon if Helena was not already. They breakfasted together like they usually did, Polly answering her precocious three-year-old’s many and often unexpected questions. Today’s topic was pandas, culminating in an altogether to be expected request to visit the zoo.

  The thought of walking the long pathways at the zoo with a rambunctious toddler did not appeal, but they could take the nursery maid with them, so Polly said, “Maybe, darling, but not today.”

  “Okay, Mommy.”

  Polly’s phone buzzed with a text and she checked it, startled when it was Alexandros inquiring how she was feeling.

  She shot off a quick reply—Fine—and went back to talking the merits of different habitats at the zoo with her daughter.

  A second text buzzed seconds later.

  Do not say you are fine when you are not. Are you still exhausted?

  She stared down at the phone in consternation. Since when was she not supposed to say she was fine when she wasn’t? Alexandros didn’t do drama. He didn’t do anything that interfered with his well-ordered, fully business-oriented life.

  Why are you asking? Is there something you want to add to my schedule?

  That was the only thing she could think would have prompted the unprecedented text. But then why hadn’t he contacted her social secretary? She’d hired Beryl the first year of their marriage, when Polly had realized that she needed a buffer between herself and the in-laws from hell. And that chances were, her husband was never going to be that buffer.

  From an old elite Athens family that had fallen on hard times, Beryl was the perfect person to arrange social occasions with Alexandros’s family and the rest of Athens society. Her efficiency also made it possible for Polly to fulfill her responsibilities as the wife of a billionaire and still be the kind of mom she’d always determined to be.

  She sent another quick text off to Alexandros.

  Just text Beryl. She has my calendar.

  Which of course Alexandros knew, but Polly was thrown for a loop and reacting.

  Her phone rang and she was surprised to see it was Alexandros.

  “Hello.”

  “I’m not trying put more on your schedule, yineka mou. I was simply trying to find out if you are feeling any better this morning. You were well and truly exhausted last night.”

  “I’m pregnant. It comes with the territory.”

  “But having to get dressed up to attend an unpleasant weekly family dinner doesn’t help, does it?”

  Was he expecting her to apologize for saying that? She wasn’t going to. If he didn’t like the truth, he should not ask for it. Or better yet, he should make a different truth.

  But she’d given up on that happening when she was pregnant with Helena.

  “I will be home for lunch,” he said into the silence between them.

  “Why?” she asked in surprise.

  “To see my wife and daughter.”

  She didn’t say, But you just saw me last night, because though that was true, their daughter would be thrilled to see her beloved papa.

  “We’ll see you then. Only if you want me to wait lunch for you, that’s fine, but Helena goes down for her nap at one o’clock.”

  If he was expecting their daughter to skip her nap to play happy families, Polly was going to have to rearrange their schedule if she didn’t want to deal with a super cranky toddler for the rest of the day.

  “I will be there by noon.”

  “All right.”

  The sound of a helicopter landing at five minutes to twelve brought Polly’s attention up from the plans Beryl had given her to go over for an upcoming fundraiser. Helena was coloring at her little desk beside her mother’s in the room Polly had appropriated for her use after moving into the mansion.

  Besides the nursery, it was the only room that had any stamp of Polly’s personality and preference for comfort and warm colors in it. The rest of the mansion they called a home looked like a high-end modern hotel. Even their bedroom felt like she should be calling for a late checkout on the rare occasions she slept in.

  “That will be Papa. Shall we go meet him?” Polly put her hand out to her daughter.

  “Papa is here?” Helena squealed, jumping to her feet.

  Alexandros was crossing the lawn from the helipad when they got outside, a big smile on his face for his daughter. Helena pulled away from Polly and ran to him, her papa lifting the little girl and giving her a hug and kiss while listening with rapt attention to her baby chatter.

  The sight of the super virile man holding the little girl made Polly’s heart clench like it always did. This man might not be the husband she’d dreamed of, but he was it for her.

  If she could have stopped loving him, she would have. But she’d learned that shutting off her emotions was a lot harder than pretending for the sake of her pride that she didn’t have any.

  Alexandros had wanted to know the night before why she had stayed married to him, and she’d withheld the most relevant answer. She had fallen head over heels in love with him five and a half years ago.

  And she still loved him. He wasn’t perfect, but there was so much about him to love.

  It came out over lunch that Helena wanted to go to the zoo, but instead of looking at Polly like he expected her to tell him when that was going to happen, Alexandros gave her a worried frown. “Wouldn’t th
at be taxing for you right now?”

  She wanted to snap that everything was taxing for her in that minute, but Polly didn’t do waspish comments anymore. She’d grown up. Or so she told herself.

  So she shrugged instead. “I can hardly expect our daughter’s life to go on hold simply because her mom is pregnant.”

  “If we had a nanny, she could take her.”

  It was an old argument. Polly had refused to hire a full-time nanny, preferring instead to have two different nursery maids working different shifts. Dora, a middle-aged widow, was on hand from six in the morning until two in the afternoon. And Hero, a local girl who had been attending online university while helping her parents on their farm, covered the hours from six to midnight.

  Both had rooms in the mansion, and Polly was sure Hero found her studies much more manageable than she had as a farm laborer, especially as Helena was usually asleep by eight.

  And neither woman had primary responsibility for Polly’s child. Polly was and always would be a hands-on, dedicated mom. “Dora could take her, come to that,” she told her husband. “But I’m Helena’s mom. Our outings together are important.”

  “And when you are feeling better, you will be able to go on them again,” he said, his tone oh, so reasonable.

  “If this pregnancy is like my last one, my discomfort isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Call it what it is, pain. And since I realized you were suffering from it again, I’ve researched possible remedies.”

  “I am not taking painkillers.” They’d had that discussion when she was pregnant with Helena, and Polly had thought he’d agreed with her.

  “Naturally not, but have you considered chiropractic and acupuncture? I have the name of a reputable clinic staffed by two doctors that have only rave reviews from their patients.”

  “You want me to try alternative medicine? You do?” Mr. Conservative, only the Greek way is the best way, and only the really rich Greek way of doing things met even that mark?

  “It is not alternative medicine. It is perfectly valid holistic medicine. Thousands of years of success cannot be discounted as merely alternative.”

  “Who are you and what have you done with Alexandros Kristalakis?”

  He laughed, the sound booming and masculine and altogether alluring.

  But she hadn’t been joking. She really didn’t understand what was going on. “How did you even think to look for that clinic?”

  “I told you, I did some research.”

  “Because you realized I was in pain?”

  “I wish I had realized sooner, or that you had told me.”

  “But why would I tell you?” she asked in honest bewilderment.

  Anytime she’d complained during her first pregnancy, he either asked his mother to advise Polly, which had never been a pleasant experience, or he’d quoted some lowering thing his mother had said. To this day, Polly herself wasn’t sure if Athena said the things she did to undermine Polly, or because she really believed them.

  Athena was of a different generation, not to mention a completely different socioeconomic background.

  The worst had been when Alexandros had fallen back on his standby that women had been enduring the inconveniences of pregnancies since the beginning of time. He always couched it with how strong and resilient Polly was, so of course she would be fine.

  Only she hadn’t been fine. First, she’d be nauseated to the point of throwing up several times a day, all day long for the first four months. Then a month of relative bliss and then the pain in her pelvic floor had started, followed quickly by lower back pain and finally pain in both hips had stacked on top of that for her final month with a return of her nausea.

  This time around, the nausea had clung on past the fourth month, but she was no longer throwing up, so that was an improvement.

  He stared at her like she was the one being incomprehensible, but when had her husband ever invited her to share her complaints with him? He was a dynamic workaholic who powered through lack of sleep and physical infirmity with a strength of will that used to intimidate her.

  Because she’d felt the need to be worthy of that kind of dynamism. She didn’t anymore.

  Polly accepted that while that was who her husband was, it was not her.

  And she accepted the fact that he expected those around him to deal with their own challenges. So, she did, even if she gave herself more of a break than he ever would have done.

  Or tried to anyway, within the parameters of her job description.

  Socially conscious wife to Alexandros Kristalakis.

  “Perhaps because if you had told me, I would have made changes sooner.”

  Change would be a fine thing. “What changes?” she asked anyway, wondering what he considered concessions made to her condition.

  “I have informed my mother and sister that until further notice, our once a week family get-togethers will happen here and they will be lunches, not dinners.”

  “What? Why?” Did she want to host the family meals? Wouldn’t that just give Athena, and more likely Stacia, even more reasons to criticize Polly?

  But she could not deny that a lunchtime get-together would be much easier for Polly to manage from both a physical and schedule perspective.

  “It is a change that should have happened when you first got pregnant. I forget that other people do better with more sleep than I get, and my pregnant wife should be getting even more sleep than her usual.” He gave her a self-deprecating smile that sort of took her breath away.

  Her husband did not do self-deprecating.

  “You don’t believe that. You don’t believe in giving in to infirmity.”

  His smile slid away to be replaced by an expression that almost looked hurt. “Am I really that arrogant? That lacking in compassion?”

  “Yes,” she answered immediately and without a shred of desire to lie.

  His strong features showed consternation. “I am sorry you believe that, but trust me when I tell you that your pain and discomfort do affect me.”

  “Since when?”

  “Always.”

  “But before…” She let her voice trail off, not sure it was worth getting into.

  His handsome mouth firmed. “Not worth discussing?” he asked silkily. “But I will answer your implied question. The last time you were pregnant, I was in the middle of a takeover bid from a conglomerate that wanted my flagship company. I was not as focused on you as I should have been, which was why I asked for my mother’s help.”

  Polly didn’t mask her expression fast enough to hide what she thought of his mother’s help.

  He smiled ruefully. “Just so. I accept that she was not the comfort to you I thought she would be.”

  Appreciative of that insight, belated though it might be, Polly went back to what else he’d revealed. “But surely no takeover bid could have been any real threat.”

  “One thing you will learn in business. No matter how big you are? Someone is always bigger, if only temporarily. I’d made some risky moves, not realizing they were waiting for just such an opportunity. I was too focused on business, and when you told me the difficulties you were having with your pregnancy, my mother assured me you were fine. It was all very normal. Your doctor confirmed that.”

  “It was normal, if not easy for me to deal with.” And she’d really wanted his support, not his mother’s repressively traditional advice.

  “I really thought Mama would help you through the difficulties of pregnancy while I worked seven days a week to keep my business.”

  “Your mother help me?” Polly asked in disbelief, even as she appreciated he hadn’t just ignored her for business as usual. And he’d believed she was okay because maybe that was what he needed to believe while his attention was directed elsewhere.

  It put her last pregnancy in a different light, but
it didn’t appreciably change how she saw her husband’s attitude to her. Because whatever the cause, even pregnant, Polly had not been anything like his primary concern.

  “I did not appreciate how old-fashioned her views on pregnancy were,” he acknowledged with unexpected candor.

  Even oblique criticism of his mother was not something she was used to from Alexandros.

  He was very protective of the older woman. He’d once shared how close to losing her he’d felt he’d come after the unexpected death of his father.

  The Kristalakis patriarch had only died a little over a year before she and Alexandros met. She’d wondered sometimes if that was what had driven Alexandros’s uncharacteristic impromptu marriage proposal.

  “Or how much she enjoyed my discomfort.”

  He frowned. “I’m sure that is not true.”

  And with that, they reached the end of any honest dialogue about his mother and her attitude toward Polly.

  Polly didn’t bother to argue her viewpoint. She’d learned there was no advantage to it. He didn’t hear criticism of his precious mother.

  And honestly? Polly wasn’t sure Athena had enjoyed her pain. It had seemed like it though, all mixed up with Athena’s and Stacia’s efforts to undermine Polly’s place in Alexandros’s life.

  Regardless, Polly would not allow a few unexpected moments of understanding on his part lull her into thinking Alexandros had changed in any significant way.

  This refrain, in different guises, was an old one. Athena Kristalakis had been furious with her son marrying an American nobody instead of one of the beautiful Greek socialites she’d been pushing at him for years.

  Under the pretext of friendship, Athena had drawn proverbial blood over and over again in her campaign to send her unwanted daughter-in-law packing. She and her daughter Stacia had done their best to make Polly feel like the outsider she was, making sure those in their circle treated her with the same disdain they did.

  Athena had even changed Polly’s first name! Calling her Anna, without asking for Polly’s approval. Which she would not have given.