But Xandros’s heart would not be bursting, she reminded herself. The source of his excitement was seated in a place far more elemental—and that was what she needed to remember. Not her wishes, or dreams or hopes or foolish longings that one day he might love her with the same passion which burned so brightly in her heart for him. Because he wouldn’t.
Xandros didn’t do love—not the adult kind between man and woman—he’d never pretended to. He loved his babies and that was growing day by day—but there was never going to be anything deeper left over for her. And maybe she shouldn’t expect there to be—for he’d never made any promises to her, had he? So he wasn’t breaking any. Surely it wasn’t fair to blame him for falling short of her expectations.
Yet if they carried on deepening the relationship through sex then she would be lost—she knew that for sure, because that was what happened to women. They used sex as an expression of their love in a way that men didn’t need to and sometimes they got hurt. And if she did that she wasn’t simply putting herself at risk—but the whole steady emotional landscape which the twins needed. More than needed.
So could she do it—deny what she most craved? Xandros in her arms every night—bringing her the pleasure which only he could? It was tempting. Of course it was. But it was also dangerous. Surely too dangerous to even contemplate?
If she allowed their physical relationship to resume—then wasn’t she placing herself in jeopardy of that old, needy Rebecca returning? The one who used to tiptoe around him trying to gauge what his mood was. Because there was no room in her life for someone like that any more. It had been glaringly obvious that when she had done that he’d lost respect for her—hell, she’d lost respect for herself—so why would any sane person elect to go right back there?
The alternative was pretending. That the sex was just sex and that she didn’t love him. Pretending to be flippant and pretending that she didn’t care. But she did. Of course she did. She had never stopped loving him, not really—and she was damned if she was going to live a lie. What kind of example would she be setting to Andreas and Alexius if she did?
So tell him. Don’t play stupid games. Xandros is an intelligent man and he’ll accept what you say. He’ll have to.
‘Last night…’
‘Ah, ne—last night,’ he echoed huskily. ‘Last night.’
Somehow she kept her smile. Not too wide and slightly impersonal, she thought—because she didn’t want them to fall out. This wasn’t a feud, after all, but a practical solution to a troublesome area of their lives. ‘Was a mistake,’ she said.
Xandros narrowed his eyes. ‘A mistake?’
‘And one which must not be repeated,’ she forged on—as if forcing herself to chew a whole mouthful of poison before swallowing it. ‘Xandros, we can’t carry on sleeping together.’
His first flippant thought was to murmur that he didn’t intend to do much sleeping, because he didn’t think for a moment that she meant it. Women never refused him—and Rebecca had always been like soft putty within his experienced fingers. But something in her violet eyes warned him that this was different. That she did mean it.
His mouth hardened.
She could not mean it!
Desire urged him to place his hand on her bare arm—knowing that just a simple touch should ensure that she would dissolve beneath it—but a far fiercer streak of pride stopped him. Did she think that he would beg? He? Beg? His mouth curved into a cruel smile. Why, let him withdraw and then let her see how long she could sustain her opposition to what they both wanted. Soon she would be begging him to take her once more!
But as the days passed Xandros discovered that Rebecca did not beg—and neither did she sulk—and he found himself caught up in an unfamiliar cloud of confusion. She was perfectly polite and sweet. She continued to be an exemplary mother. She even had intelligent observations to make about the international news. If he had been interviewing her for a job, he would have found himself highly impressed—but he was not interviewing her for a job. He wanted her back in his bed! And he wanted her now!
‘Rebecca,’ he growled, over breakfast one morning—before his trip to the Greek Embassy, where he had promised the Ambassador that he would consider designing a new library for the building.
Rebecca glanced up from her yoghurt, steeling herself to look at him. He was wearing a creamy linen suit and tiny droplets of water sparkled like jewels in the depths of the ebony hair. His skin glowed golden-olive with life and vitality and she thought that she had never seen him look quite so vibrant. Or so gorgeous.
‘Yes, Xandros?’
‘This cannot go on!’
She pushed the yoghurt away. ‘What can’t?’
‘Do not play the innocent with me, my beauty!’ He slammed his coffee-cup down and the delicate white china seemed to shimmer dangerously in its saucer. ‘Or perhaps that is your sport? To play games with me? To see how exquisitely you can increase my desire for you?’
Rebecca swallowed. Her fingers were shaking and she prayed he would not see—because she needed to be strong in her resolve. She needed to. ‘I’m not playing games with you, Xandros,’ she said truthfully. ‘I told you how I believed our relationship would best endure and my stance on that has not changed.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m sorry.’
He wanted to slam his fist on the table—to tell her that she was not sorry! Or that she had no need to be sorry when the situation could be so sweetly reversed at any given time. But he saw her calm and unswerving gaze and realised with an already heavy heart that she meant it.
All day, thoughts of her obsessed him—in a way which was completely alien to him. Several times he had to ask the Ambassador to repeat himself and he was completely indifferent to the way that the First Secretary kept crossing and uncrossing her legs—showing a very obvious glimpse of bare flesh above the silk of her stocking top. In fact, his mouth curved in such obvious distaste that he was pleased to see her tugging at the hem of her skirt in response.
That night he had dinner with a friend who was over from New York, but he remained distracted throughout the meal. He had wondered whether Rebecca might quiz him about his whereabouts when he arrived home, but to his surprise, and then to his fury, she did not.
Moodily, he went and found her in the nursery, sitting chatting quite happily with one of the nurses and smiling widely at him when he walked in with a face as dark as thunder—which only dispersed when he picked up Andreas and held him close.
And as he met a steady pair of violet eyes over the top of the baby’s silken head he recognised that retreating from her would not work—and a cold fear began to clamp its icy fingers around him. Fear! Yes, fear—real and present. For Xandros a strange and unwelcome sensation and yet one which he was discovering was shockingly recognisable from a past he had buried for much too long.
For the next two nights he did not sleep more than thirty minutes at a stretch—several times rising from his bed to go in search of her. And every time he halted, his hand falling away from the door handle to clench beside the taut, tense shaft of his thigh. Recognising that it would be wrong to try to use the cloak of darkness to conceal the turmoil in his mind. Or to seduce her when her body was soft and receptive with sleep.
He sat working in his studio while he chose his moment with all the precision and care for which he was renowned in his professional life. The two daytime nannies he’d insisted on employing to give Rebecca an occasional break decided to capitalise on an unexpected spell of sunshine by taking the boys for a stroll in their prams.
Xandros watched them walking side by side down the tree-lined road and then he went to find Rebecca—his breath hot and tight in his throat as he made his way to the smaller of the two drawing rooms. She was gluing photos into an old-fashioned baby book, but she stopped what she was doing when he walked in.
‘H-hello, Xandros,’ she said hesitantly, because his face was dark with a look on it she had never seen before and she felt her heart begin to race—for was
this not what she had most dreaded and expected? That he was about to tell her he couldn’t continue in such a situation. That he was off to find a woman who would welcome him with warm and open arms. Unless he had already found someone! The racing of her heart continued so fast that it felt like something close to pain. ‘What can I do for you?’
There was a pause. ‘I cannot go on like this!’
Her vision swam, her fingers clutching at the desk. ‘You can’t?’ She nodded. ‘No, of course you can’t.’
‘No man of flesh and blood could endure it,’ he breathed, flicking his gaze over her—at her slim, strong body clad in a simple white dress and wondering what she wore beneath. ‘And that is why I am offering you your freedom.’
It was everything she had feared, and more. ‘My freedom,’ she repeated painfully.
Xandros nodded. ‘I will sign this house over to you,’ he said. ‘Or buy you an alternative property if that is what you would prefer. I will also set up a lifetime payment and settlement for you—so you can bring the boys up without fear of financial insecurity.’ His mouth tightened. ‘It will, of course, be a generous settlement.’
‘Of course,’ said Rebecca weakly and once again she hesitated. ‘And what precisely would you want in return for this generosity?’
Black eyes narrowed into glittering shards of jet. ‘I want shared access to the twins and arrangements set in place to ensure that they can travel between England and America. While they are with me, you will of course have all the freedom at your disposal to pursue other relationships, should you wish.’
The sinking feeling inside her increased. ‘And does this “offer” come with any conditions, Xandros?’
‘Indeed it does.’ His mouth grew hard. ‘That you do not bring another man into the home of my sons—on either a temporary or a permanent basis. If you do that, then I shall seek custody.’
‘I see.’ She sucked in a breath. ‘And that’s what you want, is it?’
He stared at her. How emotionless she sounded! How matter-of-fact her question! Could this really be the same woman who had wept with pleasure countless times in his arms? Who had carried his children beneath her heart? And, suddenly, he no longer wanted to make it easy for her. He wanted—no, needed—to show her how he really felt. Could he? Dared he?
When his mother had left the family for another man the other children on the island had whispered about the scandal. But he and Kyros had never admitted—not even to each other—how much the gossip as well as her betrayal had wounded them. Hurt pride had only added to their sense of desertion. That was why they had retreated inside themselves, he saw that now quite clearly. Hiding their emotions from the world—and from themselves until they had been convinced that they had been washed clean of all emotion.
And suddenly he saw that now he risked losing everything in his futile attempt to protect himself from similar pain. That life was painful. That pain was simply the reverse side of pleasure—and you could not have or appreciate one without the other. Which meant he had to risk that kind of hurt happening all over again.
‘No, of course it’s not what I want!’ he ground out. ‘You are what I want, Rebecca—you and only you, to be my partner in the fullest sense of the word.’
There was a long pause while she stared at him. ‘But why should you want that?’ she persisted—aware that the ravaged hurt on his face must now be reflected on her own. ‘Because you are missing sex?’
‘Not because of sex! I can have sex whenever I click my fingers!’ he roared, outraged. ‘Because I love you, of course. I have grown to love you,’ he said simply, a note of surprise deepening his voice as his black eyes burned into her. ‘So do you want your freedom or not, Rebecca—because you know that there is always another option.’
She stared at him, scarcely able to breathe, for fear that she would disturb the strange kind of magic his unexpected words of love had brought glimmering into the atmosphere. ‘What option is that?’ she whispered.
His gaze was intense. ‘The other option is my heart.’ He seemed to dominate the room with his height and the sheer force of his personality. ‘Take it, for you alone have unlocked it—and now it is yours to keep.’ His voice softened. ‘If you want it.’
Tears began to prick at her eyes, but she forced herself to blink them away. She shook her head. ‘Of course I want it! But you don’t mean that, Xandros,’ she whispered. ‘You can’t.’
‘Can’t I?’ He walked over to where she was sitting and pulled her to her feet. ‘Yes, I mean it—every word of it and more. What a fool I have been not to have realised it sooner. I want you, my love. My brave, sweet Rebecca. My only love.’ He stared down into her beautiful face, seeing the bright tears now in her eyes. ‘Do not cry, agape mou. Please do not cry—for your Xandros forbids it.’
Yet she could not stop—nor wanted to stop—the tears which trickled down her cheeks, recognising these were tears of joy and dazed disbelief, not tears of sorrow.
He dried them away with his fingertips as once he had done before—when their sick baby had begun to breathe properly—and then cupped her face tenderly within the palms of his hands. She was trembling as she stared up at him, knowing that, just as Xandros had offered her his heart, he had carved a place in her own a long time ago—a place so deep that no force on earth could ever remove him from it.
And as he pulled her close she suddenly understood that she would never have to doubt the commitment of his words to her. Because here was a man who had never made her false promises, who would not say something unless he meant it—he would have no cause to.
‘Will you kiss me now?’ she whispered breathlessly.
‘Will I?’ He looked down at her for one long moment, his face filled with love and a wild kind of exultation. ‘Just try and stop me, agape mou.’
EPILOGUE
‘SO DO you think he enjoyed himself?’
Xandros heard the faint anxiety in Rebecca’s voice as she turned away from the snowy window.
‘Of course he did. He loved it,’ he said softly. ‘He adored you and was completely smitten by the twins.’ Xandros paused, for he had never seen his father look quite so contented. ‘He is a proud grandfather.’
‘Yes,’ said Rebecca. Though it must have brought back all kinds of bitter-sweet memories for Xandros’s father to see the two babies. History repeating itself, in a way—though not in every way. She would make sure of that—because she wasn’t planning on going anywhere. She gazed over at her Greek lover and her lips softened with love.
She and Xandros had moved to New York when the twins were six months old and bought a brownstone in a wonderful district called Gramercy Park, which Rebecca couldn’t quite believe existed. It was planted with trees—willow, chestnut and elm—and their garden was full of roses and lilac. It was an amazing neighbourhood—a green oasis in a fast-moving city which Rebecca was quickly learning to know, and love.
Xandros had employed an award-winning architect to work in his company so that he could cut back himself. He occupied himself with enough projects to keep his creative ambition flowing—but which left him enough time to see his wonderful sons blossom and grow.
She stared at him now—at his beloved, dark and autocratic profile. He was opening a bottle of champagne and he turned his head to look at her.
‘What?’ he said, meeting the silent question in her eyes.
Rebecca had learnt much about this man she loved. That in the past he had been emotionally defensive in order to protect himself from the pain which was a legacy from his own childhood. But she had also learnt that you couldn’t keep running away from stuff simply because it made you feel uncomfortable—that the only way to overcome it was to face it head-on, and she hoped that Xandros was learning that, too. ‘I wondered if I was ever going to get to meet your twin brother,’ she said quietly.
A smile curved his lips. Had she read his thoughts? he wondered. ‘I was planning to speak to you about that.’ He handed her a glass of champ
agne.
‘Are we celebrating something?’
‘Mmm?’ He lifted his black brows and gave a lazy smile. ‘But of course. Our life is one long celebration, is it not, agape mou?’ he questioned softly.
‘Oh, Xandros,’ she murmured, biting her lip with pleasure. ‘That’s so corny.’
‘But true.’
‘Well, yes.’
‘So will you please marry me, Rebecca?’
‘Marry you?’ She put her glass down quickly, afraid of dropping it with fingers which were suddenly shaky. ‘Why?’
‘Why?’ He shook his head. She never ceased to surprise him. Who would have thought that one of New York’s most eligible bachelors would have had his marriage proposal treated with such cool analysis? ‘Why do you think?’
Forcing herself to be pragmatic, Rebecca shrugged. ‘Because it makes getting a visa easier?’ She saw his face darken. ‘To regularise matters for the boys’ sake?’
Xandros put his own glass down. ‘I cannot believe that I am hearing this! You disregard the most important reason of all for getting married?’ he demanded. ‘What about love? Because we happen to love one another—isn’t that the only valid reason for asking you to be my wife?’
Rebecca sucked in a deep breath. Maybe this was meant to be. A chance to free herself of something which had been troubling her—not in a big way, but occasionally rearing its persistent head to nag at her. ‘But we’re only together because of the twins, aren’t we?’ she pointed out falteringly. ‘I mean, I know we love each other now—but if I hadn’t got pregnant then we would still be apart. And sometimes I wonder—well, worry, actually—whether you regret or resent the fact that you were kind of…trapped into this.’
The Greek Tycoon's Baby Bargain Page 14
