by Lynne Graham
Betsy found herself strangely touched by that uncharacteristically frank admission but it did not silence her. ‘No, you just ran—’
Nik’s green eyes flared with macho male defensiveness. ‘I did not run—’
‘Take it from me...you ran as if I was a one-night stand you regretted. Only a week ago you were divorcing me. How can you go from that level to suddenly saying you want to be married to me again?’ she prompted shakily.
Nik paced restively in front of the fire because he hadn’t expected so many questions or the barrier of resistance she was engaged in raising between them. But she wasn’t screaming at him, which he deemed a plus and an improvement. ‘You have to start somewhere—’
‘But all that’s changed is that I’m pregnant,’ Betsy reminded him, trying not to listen to the opening and closing of doors in the hall and the sound of voices and noise that accompanied Nik’s possessions returning to what had once been the home they shared. She was traumatised and trying not to show it. Not for the first time, Nik’s conduct had stunned her into silence. He had stopped the divorce, returned to her... But why? She didn’t understand. ‘I can’t believe that you care that much about a baby you never wanted—’
Nik tensed. ‘Believe,’ he urged. ‘I also care about you and I want to be here for both you and the baby now and in the future.’
‘It’s an amazing turnaround,’ Betsy told him numbly. ‘I don’t know how I feel about it.’
Nik hunkered down athletically again at her feet and reached for both her hands in an unusual demonstration for a male who was normally very reserved. ‘Be pleased. I want to come home, glikia mou. I suppose I’m asking you for a second chance...’
It was so humble, so unlike the proud, fiercely independent male she knew that tears stung the backs of Betsy’s clear eyes. She stared at him, her gaze locked to the sleek, dark, fallen-angel beauty of his lean, taut face and she could literally sense how keyed up he was waiting for her to agree. It meant a great deal to him; she could feel that. And she thought that only a male of Nik Christakis’s complexity could think it was normal to move back in with the wife he was divorcing without even talking the idea over with her in advance. There had always been something about his sheer lack of emotional intelligence that pierced her heart deep as an arrow. He was so clever but so out of touch with ordinary things that she took for granted and she had always recognised that eccentric quality in him, right from the night of his equally startling wedding proposal, which had also come out of nowhere at her.
‘I’m not sure I could trust you again,’ she told him honestly. ‘So much has happened...and the other women—’
‘I haven’t slept with anyone but you.’
Betsy was astonished until she recalled him falling on her like a hungry wolf and it was that recollection that convinced her that he was telling the truth. ‘Even so, you’ve been photographed out and about with a lot of other women—’
‘But I’ve only been with you,’ Nik declared afresh. ‘I only want to be with you.’
Betsy lifted uncertain fingers and traced his darkly shadowed jawline, fingertips brushing the stubble already formed there. She wondered what she was doing. But she was realising that her supposed hatred of Nik had only provided a useful bolster to her pride and her survival, and that when she went looking for its strength to stiffen her spine with resistance, it was mysteriously absent. She didn’t hate him; she wanted him back. Did that make her the biggest female fool in the Western world? Was she crazy to even consider reconciling with a guy who arrived with a removals van as if eight months of separation and all the bitter turns and twists of the divorce proceedings had never happened?
‘But you never wanted a baby,’ she heard herself remind him hoarsely.
‘A child is a big responsibility,’ Nik said seriously, evidently indifferent to the reality that he already had responsibility for a vast business empire and thousands and thousands of employees round the world. ‘And children are very vulnerable. That was why I never wanted the responsibility of protecting one.’
Betsy didn’t follow his reasoning. He seemed to be thinking of some kind of doomsday scenario in which a child could get hurt, but she could see that he was deadly serious and for that reason she nodded as if she totally understood what he was saying. ‘And that’s why you had the vasectomy?’ she prompted.
Nik nodded in silence, having given the explanation that he had already worked out beforehand. He wished he could have come up with those words eight months earlier when it might have saved them both a lot of grief. But at the time, in shock at her discovery that he had had a vasectomy, he had thought he could only tell her the truth and that was an option he could not even contemplate, would never contemplate.
Betsy searched his lean dark face, noticed the shadows below his eyes, the indented lines of extreme tension bracketing his mouth, and tried to think straight. But with no warning whatsoever, emotional overload and exhaustion were together hitting her like a freight train hurtling downhill. ‘I can’t give you an answer right now,’ she told him shakily. ‘I need to think about it and I think I need to lie down for a while...’
Rigid with dissatisfaction at that response, Nik backed away as Betsy levered herself upright and then, without a jot of warning, her eyes rolled up in her head and she just dropped where she stood without a sound. Betsy had fainted. There was something seriously wrong with her. Nik, usually ice cool in a crisis, experienced an intense wave of panic as he scooped her up and strode out to the hall again, where their housekeeper, Edna, was supervising the removal team.
‘Oh, dear, has Mrs Christakis fainted again?’ Edna prompted in a mild tone of acceptance as she moved towards him.
‘Again? You mean this has happened before?’ Nik pressed in consternation.
‘Some women are prone to it in early pregnancy,’ the older woman told him calmly. ‘We all watch out for her as best we can.’
Nik pictured Betsy fainting as she crossed a road and falling beneath the wheels of a car. He saw her tumbling downstairs and breaking her neck. Even when he envisaged her falling and simply bruising herself he felt sick, and determined that it wasn’t going to happen any more. Having a baby could kill her, he reflected in horror. He couldn’t have her fainting all over the place; it was too dangerous, too risky. He needed proper medical advice and somewhere to keep her safe.
Betsy drifted back to consciousness to find that she was lying across Nik’s lap in the back of a limousine. ‘Where on earth are we going?’ she whispered, her fingers fluttering up to brush her clammy brow. ‘I did it again, didn’t I? Sometimes if I stand up too fast I pass out. Sorry if I gave you a fright. I’m just so tired—’
‘I’m taking you to see a doctor—’
‘That’s not necessary—’
‘When you’re ill I decide what’s necessary.’
‘But I’m not ill. I’m only pregnant,’ Betsy countered gently, recognising his concern and his stress level. Nik did not like the unexpected. In the same way she knew that every piece of furniture he had taken with him would be returned to pretty much the same position it had occupied eight months earlier. He had a thing about familiar order and structure, which had once thoroughly irritated her because she liked to move stuff around and try it in different places. But then everyone had their little quirks and preferences, she conceded ruefully.
‘I think you need to rest,’ Nik spelt out.
Her nose was almost buried in his shirtfront and the musky, sexy scent of his skin was so familiar it made her eyes prickle with tears. Her fingers clenched round the front edge of his jacket and she lowered her lids. She loved him but that didn’t mean she could live with him again or raise their child with him. It would mean a return to being a business widow because he would always be travelling, unavailable when she needed and wanted him. It would be lonely and thankless because he
wouldn’t appreciate how much she missed him. Their child would hardly see him, would even struggle to recognise him when he was away for weeks on end. Was a part-time father better than none at all?
Odd electronic beeps and loud voices roused her again.
‘Betsy, tell them that you know where you’re going,’ Nik instructed, turning up her face to horrendously bright lights so that she shut her eyes fast again.
‘’Course I do,’ she mumbled, willing to say anything if it meant being left in peace again.
‘My wife can’t help being unwell,’ he breathed, anger in his voice now fracturing his Greek accent as he tightened his arms round her.
Her head was pounding and the familiar weariness settled back over her like a blanketing fog because it had been so many long weeks since she had enjoyed a decent night’s sleep. She blocked the anxious thoughts battering to be heard inside her heavy head; she would think through all the complexities of her marriage and Nik with a clearer head some other day...
* * *
Betsy shifted on the comfortable mattress and a low sigh escaped her as she opened her eyes on the shadowy room. There was a low drone in the background. ‘What’s that noise?’ she mumbled sleepily.
‘Go back to sleep... It’s late,’ Nik advised from the foot of the bed. ‘I shouldn’t have come in but I wanted to check on you... Instead I’m afraid I woke you up.’
Remembering what had happened earlier, Betsy tensed, her gaze darting round what little she could see of the dim and seemingly quite small room. She could only assume she was in one of Nik’s guest rooms in London. Where else would he take her to see a doctor? And why hadn’t she argued, for goodness’ sake? Because arguing with Nik had always been pointless. When Nik was convinced that he was doing something in her best interests he was impossible to shift.
‘Why were you checking up on me?’ she framed.
Unshaven and decidedly tousled with his black hair ruffled and his tie and jacket missing, Nik loomed large as a twenty-storey building, poised beside the bed. ‘You collapsed,’ he reminded her almost accusingly. ‘That’s not normal—’
‘I had a silly little faint...more embarrassing than serious,’ Betsy fielded sleepily, realising that for some reason she felt strangely soothed by his presence.
‘You seem to be incredibly tired—’
‘I haven’t been sleeping well recently,’ Betsy admitted before she could think better of that revealing confession. ‘And fatigue is normal in the early stages of pregnancy.’
‘The doctor will tell us tomorrow what’s normal and what is cause for concern.’
‘It’s not like you to fuss over something trivial—’
‘The state of your health is not a triviality.’
He sounded so serious that a drowsy smile of amusement lit her tired face before she shut her eyes again.
Betsy wakened to light flooding through a porthole window and blinked in confusion. She clambered slowly out of bed and, even before she reached the window to get a good view of the clouds beyond it, she knew she was on board a plane. The lights that had blinded her the night before, the questions Nik had been angrily parrying, must have taken place at airport security the night before. How stupid am I? she asked herself in consternation. Why am I on a plane? Why did he put me on a plane without mentioning it? But then why did Nik do anything?
The clothes she had been wearing were in the wardrobe but she was relieved to find that a selection of other items had evidently been packed for her and she yanked out fresh underwear before rushing impatiently into the en suite to freshen up. The discovery of her toiletries and her make-up bag did nothing to mollify her. She felt like Alice in Wonderland, only, instead of her falling, Nik had thrown her down the rabbit hole. The bright blue sky beyond the porthole persuaded her to choose a light floral skirt and tee from the sparse selection of clothing and, dressed, she walked out into the main cabin with the light of battle in her eyes.
Nik was working at a laptop for all the world as though he were in an office. He glanced up through lush black lashes, green eyes gleaming. ‘I heard you get up. Breakfast should be here soon—’
‘Where on earth are we?’
‘In thirty minutes we’ll be landing in Athens—’
‘Athens?’ Betsy yelled.
‘I told you that I was taking you to a doctor. Mikis Xenophon is the world’s leading authority on pregnant women,’ Nik informed her with distinct satisfaction. ‘And you have an appointment with him this morning—’
‘I don’t care who the heck he is!’ Betsy shot back at him, out of all patience. ‘I was willing to see a doctor but I wasn’t willing to fly to Greece to do it!’
‘Xenophon is the best. I want you to see the best,’ Nik countered stubbornly. ‘His research is first class and his patients speak very highly of him—’
‘But bringing me to Greece without asking me,’ Betsy began half an octave higher.
‘You fell very deeply asleep. You must’ve badly needed the rest. I was determined not to disturb you,’ Nik assured her tautly.
At that point a knock sounded on the door and the breakfast he had ordered arrived. Expelling her pent-up breath in a rush, Betsy sat down because, having missed dinner the night before, she was truly hungry. But as she nibbled she quietly seethed in frustration. He had done it again, taken over, steamrollering over her options and wishes as if only he knew best. The one and only occasion when he had ever let her choose anything had been the time when he had finally agreed that she could try for a baby if she wanted to. Of course that had been a safe choice from his point of view when he had known that his vasectomy had meant that there was then no prospect of her falling pregnant.
‘Why on earth did you ever agree to me trying to get pregnant last year?’ Betsy found herself asking him abruptly. ‘I mean, when you knew it couldn’t happen, why did you give way?’
Unprepared for the question, Nik stared fixedly back at her. ‘I thought it would satisfy you. I...incorrectly, perhaps even foolishly, assumed you’d go off the idea again... After all, you didn’t want children when we got married and somehow I never expected that to change—’
‘Unfortunately, people do change. I thought I didn’t want children because my parents never really wanted me—that was a major turn-off. I also spent a lot of time helping to look after the younger kids when I was a teenager in the foster system and I saw kids back then as nothing more than a time-consuming responsibility who stole away your freedom,’ Betsy explained ruefully. ‘I genuinely didn’t ever expect to start wanting a baby, but I was too young when I made that decision and shared it with you.’
Nik nodded grimly. ‘I will give you that. So, what changed?’
Her small face stiffened. ‘You were away on business so much. I was bored, lonely, and then one day I woke up and somehow I believed a baby would be the best thing that ever happened to me and that everything would be improved with a child in the picture.’
‘But you became obsessed by your desire for a child.’ Nik sighed. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t understand how important having a baby had come to mean to you...that it was as much an emotional as a physical desire.’
Betsy tore her croissant into at least ten pieces and then began buttering each one while deciding that nothing less than honesty would suffice. ‘Yes, I was obsessed,’ she agreed, thinking back to the vitamins she had taken, the temperature charts to check when she was ovulating, the acupuncture and yoga sessions, the state of mind and pure desperation that had persuaded her that she would do literally anything to become pregnant.
Nik hadn’t expected her to admit that. ‘I felt shut out and extremely uncomfortable because I knew that no matter what you did it would be in vain.’
‘Obviously,’ Betsy conceded, glad to hear that guilt had afflicted him even if he didn’t have the right word to qu
antify the feeling.
‘I assumed you would just give up and forget about it eventually,’ he admitted with what would have been poignant ignorance had it only related to a less sensitive subject.
‘No, what you can’t have, you just want more,’ Betsy whispered ruefully.
And now she had finally got it and she was almost in Greece and Nik was back in her life. Was that what she wanted? Betsy was ashamed to realise that she truly didn’t know any more. Her troubled gaze rested on him, skimming over his bold bronzed profile before skipping down the long, straight slope of his perfect nose to linger on the full curve of his sensual mouth, and as if aware of her scrutiny he turned his handsome dark head. Eyes that were glittering slivers of bright green ringed by luxuriant black lashes transfixed her with stunning effect. Her mouth ran dry and her tummy flipped a helpless somersault.
But that was her body reacting, not her mind, Betsy reasoned shamefacedly. Sadly, her brain was going round and round in ever-shrinking circles without reaching any definitive conclusion and it had been doing that for weeks. What did she want? Could she forgive him? Was he sincere? How could he simply walk away and then walk back? Could he really care about their baby’s future? And what about her? Her needs? Her wants? Her happiness?
CHAPTER SEVEN
MR XENOPHON PLEATED his fingers and surveyed his anxious patient and her even more anxious husband. He had run a battery of standard tests and reached certain obvious conclusions.
‘You are very stressed, Mrs Christakis,’ he told Betsy gently. ‘And although you don’t yet seem to be aware of the fact, you are carrying twins. A twin pregnancy will be a heavier burden—’
‘She’s stressed?’ Nik demanded as if the concept was entirely foreign to him.
‘You are both very stressed,’ the doctor pronounced mildly. ‘Why is not my concern but you both need to find some way of reducing that stress for the sake of your wife’s health.’
