Christmas Baby For The Greek (HQR Presents)

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Christmas Baby For The Greek (HQR Presents) Page 10

by Jennie Lucas


  Lost in these unsettling thoughts, Holly gave her baby a bath in the en suite bathroom, then dried him off with a thick cotton towel. As she nuzzled his dark hair, breathing in his sweet newborn smell, she suddenly wished she’d never left Switzerland. All she wanted to do was be safe.

  And nothing about Stavros Minos was safe. Not to her body. Not to her heart.

  She shivered, remembering how his dark eyes had burned when he’d said he intended to marry her. Every moment she spent with him, every look, every innocent touch, reminded her of the night they’d conceived their child. Every moment close to him caused new sparks of need to crackle through her body.

  She took a deep breath, looking out at the balcony where the sun was setting brilliantly over the Aegean Sea, past the palm trees. Oh, what she was doing on this remote Greek island, in a place that seemed expressly made for seduction?

  Grabbing Freddie’s old, clean footie pajamas from her overnight bag, she dressed him on the changing table and then carried him to the rocking chair near the window, overlooking the sea where the sun was falling into the water. Twenty minutes later, she tucked him into the crib, drowsy with a full belly.

  Going to the en suite bathroom, Holly took a quick shower, avoiding her own eyes in the mirror. Wrapping herself in the thick white robe from the door, she went back into the closet and looked in her overnight bag. The thick hoodie, turtleneck and jeans she’d packed seemed all wrong for Greece. Snowy Switzerland seemed a million miles away.

  Biting her lip, Holly slowly looked around the enormous closet. New clothes, in both her size and the baby’s, had been neatly folded on the shelves and were hanging from the racks. Rising to her feet, she touched a white cotton sundress. For a moment, she was lost in a sudden dream, imagining soft fabric sliding over her skin as Stavros kissed her, his naked, powerful body hard against hers—

  Electricity burned through her, making her breasts tighten and her body tremble.

  No!

  Holly couldn’t allow herself to let down her guard. The last time she had, she’d ended up pregnant and alone.

  And the stakes were far too high now. If she ever gave herself to Stavros again, either her body or her heart, he’d have the power to destroy her...and Freddie. She couldn’t let that happen.

  Holly lifted her chin. She was no longer an innocent girl who could be easily swayed by passionate kisses or sweet lies. She’d learned about consequences. She had a baby to think of.

  This time, there was nothing Stavros could do to seduce her. If he truly wanted to help her raise their son, if his only intention was to be a good father, she would try to let him, for Freddie’s sake.

  She would have good manners. She would be courteous.

  But Holly would never let Stavros back into her bed, or her heart. Never. Never ever!

  * * *

  Stavros stood out on the terrace, leaning against the white balustrade overlooking the cliff. He was still dressed in a tailored black button-down shirt and trousers that fit snugly against his body. He’d thought of changing to casual clothes, but there was no point in pretending to be casual, when the truth was, he felt anything but.

  A table had been set up on the terrace, with three place settings. But he knew his father would not come.

  His jaw tightened, and he looked behind him at the house of his childhood. He felt his back break out in a cold sweat. How unhappy he’d been here. He still remembered his mother’s wretchedness and heartbreak. His father hadn’t just been selfish. He’d been cruel to her, flaunting his affairs, just to prove his power over her.

  Now, the sprawling white villa glowed gold, orange and red, illuminated like King Midas’s palace by the sun setting over the Aegean to the west.

  It had been a shock to return here. He wondered how long he’d been frozen when he’d arrived in the convertible, staring up at the house. He’d been stunned to see Eleni. Like Vassilis, the guard, she’d grown much older. Even the villa, which had loomed so large in his youth, had grown much smaller. Or maybe, like Eleni had said, it was just Stavros who’d grown larger.

  He’d lived here until he was eight. He had strong memories of his father’s violent arguments with his mother, that had left Aristides shouting insults, and Rowena weeping. When, after years of emotional abuse, his mother could stand no more, she’d announced she was divorcing him and moving back to Boston.

  In response, Aristides had coldly informed Stavros he could either remain in Greece as a rich man’s son, or go to Boston to be a “nobody” and a “pitiful mama’s boy.”

  Stavros had made his choice, and his father had been livid. He’d spoken with Aristides only once since then, when Stavros was seventeen. After months of ignoring his son’s increasingly frantic phone messages, his father finally answered the phone on the day Stavros called to tell him Rowena had died.

  “Why would I care about that?” Aristides had responded.

  Now, every time Stavros thought of his mother’s heartbreak, how hard she’d tried to love her husband through his betrayals, how hard she’d worked to try to support her child when the divorce had left her with nothing but custody of him...he was furious. His mother had died from overwork and grief, as much as the cancer that had claimed her life.

  No wonder, when Stavros had gotten his own diagnosis, he’d been so sure he would obviously die. How could he live, when his mother—so much better and kinder than he—had not?

  Setting his jaw, he stared out bleakly at the sea. The sun was setting, leaving a red trail against the dark water that looked almost like a trail of blood.

  It was a strange irony that he had lived. And now he had a son of his own. He would not abandon Freddie. He wouldn’t leave Holly to raise their son alone.

  But how could he convince her to let him into their lives?

  When Stavros had decided to bring her here from Switzerland, he’d been sure all he needed to do was spend a little time with her to make her see things his way.

  But she’d shot him down every time he’d tried to speak with her on the jet. He didn’t blame her. He was totally off his game. Being back in his childhood home had thrown him in ways he hadn’t expected. Now, just when he most needed to be confident and powerful to win her, he was instead feeling uncomfortably vulnerable.

  He hated it.

  So how could he convince Holly? What could he do or say?

  Sex wouldn’t be enough. He’d felt the way she shivered when he “accidentally” touched her, seen the way she licked the corners of her mouth when he looked deeply into her eyes, as if waiting for his kiss. She wanted him.

  But she didn’t trust him. She refused to share a bedroom with him. Bedroom? Hell, she wouldn’t even let him hold his son.

  No mere charm, no regular seduction, would win her now. So what would?

  Leaning against the balustrade, staring out at the sea, Stavros took a deep breath. Hearing a noise, he looked behind him.

  And gasped.

  Holly had come out on the terrace looking like a goddess of beauty, Aphrodite rising from the sea. She was wearing a simple white sundress, exposing her bare shoulders and legs to the pink light of the setting sun. Brilliant red hair tumbled over her shoulders like fire as she walked toward him in her sandals.

  His heart lifted to his throat.

  Coming close, she looked up at him, her green eyes big, her dark lashes trembling with emotion. “Good evening.”

  “Kaló apógevma,” he replied. He held out his arm.

  Ignoring it, she went straight to the table, without touching him.

  Following her, he pulled out the chair. She sat down, her lovely face expressionless. As he politely pushed the chair forward beneath the table, his fingers briefly brushed the soft bare skin of her back. He felt her tremble, which he’d expected.

  But he trembled, too, which he hadn’t.

  Going to his ow
n seat on the other side of the small table, he opened a waiting bottle. He paused. “Wine?”

  “Just a taste.”

  He poured the white wine into two glasses, then passed one to her. His fingertips brushed hers, and again he felt her shiver. Again he held his breath.

  Then she leaned back in her chair, looking away as she took a single sip of the wine, then placed it back quietly on the table.

  No. Desire would not lure her this time.

  Stavros lifted the silver lids off their china plates, and saw lamb and rosemary and potatoes. Sitting in the seat across from her, he sliced the lamb cleanly with his knife and chewed slowly. “You should try this. It’s delicious.” He smiled. “My favorite dinner from childhood. I can’t believe Eleni remembered.”

  “She seems to think a lot of you.”

  “I think the same of her.”

  Holly ate almost mechanically, sipping mostly water, not meeting his eyes. He wondered what she was thinking about. Strange—he’d never had to wonder that about any woman before. Usually they couldn’t wait to tell him. But Holly was different. Holly mattered—

  Just that thought caused ice down his spine.

  She mattered only because of his son. That was it. She’d never be more than the mother of his child to him. He’d never give her his heart. He couldn’t, because he didn’t have one.

  The thought made him able to breathe again.

  Biting her lip, Holly suddenly leaned forward. “I’m sorry about what you went through.”

  How did she know about his father’s abandonment? Who had told her? He said stiffly, “What do you mean?”

  Taking a deep breath, she said in a low voice, “I can’t even imagine what you went through last year. Being sick. All alone.”

  “Oh.” His shoulders relaxed. He was touched that she suddenly seemed to care. It gave him hope. “It’s all right.”

  “No. It’s not.” Looking down at her hands, she said, “I just remember how I felt in the doctor’s office when I found out I was pregnant.” She looked up, her eyes glistening. “And that was happy news. I can’t imagine going through what you did all alone. With no one at your side to help you through. To hold your hand.”

  A strange emotion rose inside him. Ruthlessly, he pushed it away. It was in the past. He’d battled through. He hadn’t needed anyone then, and he didn’t now. He was too strong for that. But he wanted to protect his child—and his child’s mother.

  Reaching over the table, he put his hand over her smaller one. His lips curved. “Does this mean you don’t want me dead?”

  An answering ghost of a smile touched her lips. “I never wanted you dead. I just...”

  Her voice trailed off as she looked away.

  The sun had disappeared, and the moon was rising in the darkening night. Stavros polished off his glass of wine, watching her. Wishing he could take her in his arms.

  Looking up at the dark sky, Holly pulled her hand away. “The stars are bright here.” She tilted back her head. “My dad and I used to look at the constellations together. He taught me a bunch of them. Orion.” She pointed. “The Big Dipper, Gemini.”

  “He was an astronomer?”

  She smiled. “A bus driver. Astronomy was his hobby. A hobby he shared with my mother.” Her smile lifted to a grin. “That made him want to learn even more about the stars to impress her. They used to go out driving at night, going outside the city to get away from the city lights. Until—”

  Her expression changed and she looked down at her own still full wineglass.

  “Until?”

  “They went out on their twentieth wedding anniversary, and a drunk driver plowed into their car on the interstate.”

  “I’m sorry” was all he said, which seemed the wiser choice than “love always ends with tragedy.”

  “Don’t be.” She looked up, her eyes glistening. “My parents were happy, chasing their stars. My father always said loving my mother changed his life. She made him a husband. A father. More than he ever imagined he could be.” She wiped her cheek with her shoulder. “He always said she changed his stars.”

  Her voice trembled with pride and love. And Stavros suddenly envied the man.

  He poured another glass and took a gulp of wine. “You were lucky to have a father who loved you.”

  “You aren’t close to yours.”

  Stavros barked a short laugh. “I despise him.”

  “You told me in Switzerland he was a good man.”

  “No, I said he was honest. It is not the same. He is honest about who he is. A greedy, selfish monster.”

  She stared at him, her face shocked.

  “But perhaps you think the same about me.” His lips twisted as he swished the wine in his glass. “That I am as selfish and coldhearted as every other man in my family.” He looked up at the beautiful, tranquil villa. “I hate this place.”

  “This?” Holly looked up in bewilderment at the magnificent Greek villa, overlooking the dark Aegean Sea. She shook her head wryly. “You should have seen the house I grew up in. A two-bedroom apartment, with peeling wallpaper and a heater that broke down in winter.”

  “After my parents’ divorce, my mother and I briefly lived in a homeless shelter in Boston.”

  He’d never shared that little tidbit with anyone. She looked shocked.

  “How is that possible?” She pointed toward the villa. “There’s no way you could be homeless. Not with a father as rich as that!”

  “He cut my mother off without a penny in the divorce.”

  “How could he?”

  “He found a way.” A humorless smile traced his lips. “When my mother got tired of all his blatant cheating, he was too spiteful to even pay her the paltry amount guaranteed by the prenup. So he gave her a choice—if she voluntarily gave up that income, she could have full custody of me. He knew she’d agree.” He took a drink. “The last thing she wanted was to leave me here with him.”

  “He cheated on your mother?”

  Stavros snorted. “You think my cousin Oliver is bad? My father was worse. And my grandfather worse still. He impregnated every willing woman for miles around. My grandmother just gritted her teeth and pretended it wasn’t happening.” He shook his head. “I don’t even know all my cousins. Oliver’s mother was the result of a fling between my grandfather and one of the maids.”

  “Oh,” she said lamely.

  Looking toward the sea, he said softly, “But my mother grew up in a different generation. She couldn’t put up with it forever. Seeing her suffer broke my heart. I vowed I’d never be on either side of it.”

  “Never love anyone?”

  “Or let them love me. Love always has a winner and a loser. A conqueror and a conquered.” He gave a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “I decided long ago I never wanted to be either.”

  Holly looked past the villa’s whitewashed terrace, illuminated by light from the villa behind them, to the black moon-swept sea beyond.

  “But you still hurt me,” she whispered. “In spite of that.”

  “I know.” He took another slow, deliberate sip of wine. “No wonder when you found out you were pregnant, you decided I was a cruel bastard who didn’t deserve either of you.”

  “Was I wrong?”

  Her words seemed to echo in the soft Greek night. In the distance, he could hear the roar of waves pounding the beach.

  “I was selfish when I seduced you,” he said slowly. He lifted his gaze to hers. “But not when I let you go. I pushed you away because I was no good to anyone, least of all you.”

  “Like I said, you could have told me—”

  “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.”

  Her
lovely face looked stricken, then angry.

  “You really think I’m pathetic, don’t you?” She raised her chin. “You’re so sure I would have fallen in love with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you think you’re irresistible.” Her tone was a sneer that seemed like an ill-fitting costume on her.

  Stavros took a deep breath. “Because you’re the most loving person I’ve ever known. And I couldn’t ruin your life like that.” He gave a small smile. “Not even me.”

  Her eyes were huge and limpid in the moonlight.

  “I expected to die,” he continued in a low voice. “But to my surprise, I lived. And now we have a child. Surely you must see that my life can never be the same.”

  “It doesn’t have to change for you...”

  “You’re wrong,” he said simply. Reaching out, he took her hand across the table. “I want us to be a family.”

  He heard her breath catch. Her hand was suddenly trembling. Nervously, she tried to pull it away, turning toward the villa. “I should check on the baby...”

  “Eleni will listen for him.” He was close, so close, to achieving his objective. Leaning forward, holding her hand, he urged, “Give me a chance.”

  Silence fell. Then she said in a small voice, “It would take time for me to trust you again.”

  Joy rushed through him. “Whatever time you need—”

  “I want separate bedrooms tonight.”

  Silence fell.

  Separate bedrooms? That was not at all what he wanted. What he wanted was to make love to her tonight. Right now. But since he’d just promised her time, what else could he do?

  “Very well,” he said stiffly.

  Exhaling, Holly looked out at the sea. “It’s beautiful here. Like a dream.” She tried to smile. “The white puffs of cloud look like ships in the moonlight.”

  Stavros watched her. “I like the joy you take in life. Most people forget that when they leave their childhoods behind. If they ever even knew.”

  She snorted, her expression incredulous. “You think I’m a child?”

 

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