CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER SEVEN

A RISTOPHANES WAITED UNT IL the rotors had slowed, then he opened the door of the helicopter, got out, then turned to help Nell disembark.

They’d just touched down on the helipad near his villa on Ithasos, a tiny green jewel of an island set in the deep turquoise blue of Mediterranean, near Mykonos.

His villa here was one of his preferred residences, and since it worked in well with his schedule for the next week, he’d decided it would be the perfect place for Nell. He’d have some time to spend helping her get settled in before he had to go on to London—he’d even managed to fit into his schedule a whole afternoon and evening to show her around his house and the island.

He knew she’d been unhappy with his decision back in New York that she should stay here for the duration of her pregnancy, but, really, it was the best solution for both of them. He didn’t want her going back to Melbourne on her own, not when he had no idea of what kind of support she had there, and not when he couldn’t accompany her because of his schedule—after the near miss with the babies, he didn’t want to let her out of his sight if he could help it. Which meant taking her to Greece was the most logical decision, especially given her pregnancy restrictions.

He could have asked her, he supposed, as she’d flung at him back in New York, but then she’d argued anyway, and arguing was a waste of time. Especially when he’d already decided what was going to happen.

The potential loss of the babies had pierced him in a place he hadn’t known he was vulnerable, a painful place. A place of fear. It was true what he’d told her, that he hadn’t realised how badly he’d wanted those children until he’d nearly lost them.

Before leaving New York, he’d talked to Cesare on the phone for a long time about how Nell was pregnant and that it was twins. His friend had taken a good deal of amusement from that particular fact, but Aristophanes saw nothing amusing about it. Almost to his own surprise, when he’d told Nell he’d keep them safe, he’d meant it. He’d meant it more than he’d meant anything else in his entire life. The children were not abstracts any longer, not ideas. Not equations or problems to solve, but small lives under threat, lives that were precious. He would never allow them to be lost, which meant he’d do everything in his power to make sure that didn’t happen. Even if it meant making decisions that Nell didn’t like.

You didn’t have to be so cold though.

The thought was an uncomfortable one and it had nagged at him ever since they’d left New York. It was true he’d been less...kind to her than he should have, and yes, probably cold. He’d just been operating on a threat response level, which didn’t allow for anyone’s feelings.

When he’d implied, for example, that the sex had been meaningless in comparison to the health of the babies, there had been a flicker of what he suspected was hurt in her gaze. The same when she’d asked what the point of him visiting her was, and he’d responded with the truth, to make sure she and the twins were healthy.

It had made him wonder what it was about what he’d said that had been painful for her. Certainly with the latter, it was almost as if she’d wanted him to visit her for her , which was odd when, as she kept saying to him, they were complete strangers. He didn’t know her and she didn’t know him.

Also, he was a billionaire financial genius and she was a preschool teacher. What on earth would they have to talk about? Sex had been the language they’d used for all their communications up to this point, and if they couldn’t have sex then the only other reason to bother with a visit was for health reasons.

But why not make the effort? How can you know that you don’t have anything to talk about, when you haven’t bothered to initiate any kind of conversation?

The thought sat uncomfortably inside him as he turned to help her out of the machine. Her gaze was shuttered, giving him nothing, the way it had been ever since they’d left New York. He didn’t like it. It made his chest get tight, made him wonder if he’d done something wrong, made the wrong move. He didn’t like that either.

Nell was pale, with circles under her eyes, her hair flowing in thick auburn waves down her back, and she wore a pair of stretchy black pants and a loose sweatshirt in vivid emerald green. The colour made her eyes even darker, bringing out the red sparks in her auburn hair.

An inevitable punch of desire hit him as his hand settled on her hip to help her out of the helicopter, the feel of her so warm and soft, it was all he could do not to squeeze her gently then slide his hand between her thighs, see how warm and soft she was there too.

But he couldn’t do that, not without endangering his children, so, with an effort that cost him far more than it should, he crushed the urge. It shouldn’t still be so strong after their night in New York, yet it was, which meant yet more decisions needed to be made about what would happen after the babies were born. He already had a few ideas...

‘Welcome to Ithasos,’ he murmured as he helped her down onto the helipad.

The expression on her face remained guarded, her mouth tight. ‘Thank you.’

She was still putting distance between them, clearly, and his patience for it was running thin. In his arms, she’d been unguarded and passionate, her dark eyes glowing with heat and desire, awe and wonder.

But now... Her lashes fell, veiling her gaze, and she turned her head away from him, shutting him out. A salty sea breeze lifted her hair from her shoulders, blowing it around her face, and again he experienced a fierce urge to touch her, push that recalcitrant lock of hers back behind her ears. Then maybe demand that she look at him, tell him why she was shutting him out.

He’d never wanted to know what someone else was thinking before, never been almost desperate to know. Yet he found himself staring at her, wishing he could see what was going on inside her lovely head.

Then the wind blew a lock of her hair across the sleeve of his suit, the strands gleaming red against the dark wool, and his thoughts shifted and changed. Would their children have auburn hair and dark eyes like hers, or would they have grey eyes like his? Would they be lovely, like her, or—?

Emotionally dead like you?

He gritted his teeth and forced the thought away. He had no idea where it had come from. He wasn’t emotionally dead; he just preferred his emotions to be tightly controlled, which wasn’t the same thing.

Their children would never be emotionally dead anyway, not with passionate Nell for a mother.

She could leave them, though, the way your mother left you.

Aristophanes slid his hand beneath her elbow and gripped it, mentally crushing the irrational fears that kept winding through his brain.

The children would be fine and Nell would be an excellent mother. She worked with small children after all.

Together, they walked up the white shell path that led from the helipad to the villa, threading through the olive groves that surrounded the house, along with lemon trees and lavender and other shrubs that grew well in the dry, rocky soil.

The villa itself was white plaster and on several levels, with windows that looked out over the sea, and large vine-covered terraces accessible by wide curving stone stairs. There was a pool area beside one wing of the house, with an infinity pool and sun loungers scattered about. He’d decided to put her in the bedroom next to it so she could access it more easily. A pool would be cooling and provide some nice gentle exercise.

She stayed silent as he showed her into the villa, introducing her to his housekeeper and some of the other staff, then, while the staff dealt with the luggage, he took her on a tour of the property, periodically checking on the time to make sure it would take no longer than twenty minutes as per the doctor’s orders.

First, the wide salon, with doors that opened all the way out onto the terrace. Then down some stairs to the guest wing, with the big bedroom next to the pool and a wooden bed piled high with pillows. A big bathroom with a wide white porcelain bath she could lie in, and a large shower to stand beneath if she so chose.

As they came out of the bathroom, Nell went past him and over to the windows near the bed, looking out over the deep blue green of the sea. She hadn’t spoken a word since they’d got out of the helicopter.

Impatience ran through him. Did she like it here? Was the bedroom to her taste or would she prefer another? He wanted to know what she thought of the island, which was strange, because why did he care about her opinion? He’d never cared about the opinions of others before. Then again, maybe it wasn’t so strange. As she’d told him, her well-being was important to the lives of their children, and if he was going to look after her, then that was his responsibility too.

Not just her physical well-being. Her emotional well-being too.

Another thing he’d never been concerned about before—a person’s emotional well-being. And why would he? When no one had ever considered his? Yet he was considering it now. On the plane on the way over, he’d been doing a lot of reading, research papers on pregnancy mainly, and he’d discovered that the emotions of the mother did affect her foetus, and if she was, say, depressed, then the baby had worse outcomes.

He didn’t want that for her or for their children.

‘Will this be adequate?’ he asked at last, breaking the thick silence.

She didn’t turn from the window. ‘Yes.’ The word sounded colourless. ‘It’s fine.’

He frowned, taking in the elegant curve of her obdurate back, a sudden frustration rising in him. Was this all he was going to get from her? Just this...silence?

Are you surprised? It’s not as if you’ve given her anything but dismissal.

A memory gripped him then, of the hurt in her eyes as she’d said what was the point of a visit without sex, and he’d implied that the health of their children was more important. Which it was, but still... They were strangers, and yet...they weren’t. He’d touched every inch of her body, he knew the feel of her, the taste of her. He knew what she looked like when she came, the noises she made when he gave her pleasure. He knew her kiss, the touch of her hand, the way her nails dug into his back...

He didn’t know her mind, though, and perhaps he should. Especially when she was their children’s mother and they’d be raising those children together.

‘Do you need food?’ he asked, at a loss for what else to say, but wanting to say something to break the ice. Small talk, though, had never been his friend.

‘No, thank you.’ She was scrupulously polite and still didn’t turn.

‘Perhaps you would like to rest?’ He took a couple of steps towards her. ‘The bed is very comfortable.’

‘I’m sure it is.’

His jaw felt tight and he didn’t know what else to say. Words were always a barrier. They got in the way, imperfect and inexact, a primitive vehicle when it came to expressing ideas and concepts. Apart from sex, though, he didn’t know what other tools he could use to express himself. Mind to mind would be so much easier, and it was a constant aggravation to him that no one had yet invented telepathy.

If sex hadn’t been forbidden, he would simply have crossed the space between them, taken her into his arms, kissed her thoroughly, then given her all the pleasure he was capable of to make her feel better.

But he couldn’t.

So he stood there uselessly, impatient and annoyed with himself, until she finally turned around. ‘I’m sorry?’ she said coolly. ‘Don’t you have other places to be?’

‘I want to know if you need anything,’ he said, irritated by how inarticulate he was being, and how it almost made him feel stupid. Which he wasn’t in any regard.

‘I don’t.’ Her gaze was very level, telling him nothing.

‘Do you like the villa?’ he demanded, getting even more irritated with himself.

‘Yes, it’s fine. I said that already.’

‘But do you—?’

‘It’s fine, Mr Katsaros,’ she repeated, her voice cold as a splinter of ice.

‘Aristophanes,’ he growled, realising all of a sudden that she’d never said his name out loud, not once. ‘You can’t call me Mr Katsaros. Not when we will be having children together.’

At last, to his enormous satisfaction, tiny sparks of temper glittered in her eyes. The satisfaction was akin to when he gave her an orgasm, but sharper somehow. He liked that he could disturb her, that he could affect her in some way.

‘I’m not calling you Aristophanes,’ she said with some irritation. ‘It’s ridiculous and far too long.’

He glared at her. ‘How dare you—?’

‘I’ll call you Dylan, after one of the naughtiest boys in my class.’

‘You will not be calling me Dylan,’ he forced out through gritted teeth.

Nell tilted her head and abruptly he realised that it wasn’t only temper in her eyes, but something else, almost like...amusement. ‘Bear, then,’ she said. ‘He’s the second naughtiest and you’re certainly bad-tempered enough to be a bear.’

‘Bear?’ he repeated blankly. ‘You have a boy in your class called Bear?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘So, thank you, Bear. That will be all.’

Nell watched Aristophanes’ dark brows plunge into yet another one of his sexy scowls and felt extremely pleased with herself. It was a strange thing to discover that she could render this powerful, apparently humourless, billionaire genius speechless. Not to mention annoyed. And he was definitely both now, his mouth tight, his grey gaze thunderous.

It was satisfying. That she could get under his skin so easily made her feel better about being here, on this Greek island that she hadn’t asked to be brought to and would effectively be imprisoned on for the next five months.

She’d thought that nothing she said would move him, since it appeared he didn’t care about her at all, except that she was the mother of his children.

And she’d thought that the case all the way over from New York, on the interminable flight to Athens, where he’d spent the majority of time either staring fiercely at his laptop or reading one of the hard science magazines he’d brought with him.

Then he’d showed her into the bedroom of this admittedly very pretty villa, on this admittedly very beautiful Greek island, and she’d thought he’d show her to the bedroom then leave immediately, yet he hadn’t. He’d asked inane questions instead, wanting her opinion on the villa, wanting to know if she needed anything to eat, or if she needed rest. And even when she’d said no, he’d continued to stand there, looking incredibly annoyed yet resolutely not leaving.

She had to admit it was slightly amusing that such a self-proclaimed genius could be so inarticulate, and it made the bleak feeling in her heart feel a little less bleak. He was just a man, after all. As flawed as any other.

‘You can’t call me Bear,’ he growled.

‘Why not? You do growl a lot.’

He looked typically thunderous. ‘I do not.’

She expected him to simply turn around and leave then, yet he didn’t. He only stood there, glaring at her accusingly. And she had the odd impression that he didn’t actually want to go. He was lingering here because he wanted to talk to her.

Nell studied him a moment. Was that what he wanted? And he just didn’t know how? Seemed strange for a man who’d repeatedly told her that he liked having conversations with women. Then again, those women were also very smart, weren’t they? And perhaps their conversations were smart also? Perhaps he didn’t have normal, casual conversations. Perhaps he didn’t know how.

‘Didn’t you ever have a nickname when you were a little boy?’ she asked, after a moment. ‘Or did everyone go around calling you Aristophanes?’

‘No one called me anything as a little boy.’

‘No one? Not even your parents?’

‘I was raised in foster care,’ he said. ‘I was never with a family long enough to be called anything but “boy”.’

Shock prickled over her skin. She hadn’t expected him to reveal anything personal about himself, still less something so sad. Or so relatable. Because if he’d been in foster care, that meant something had happened to his parents and she knew all about that.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said impulsively. ‘I lost my parents, too. I didn’t go into foster care though. I was raised by my aunt and uncle.’

His gaze sharpened. ‘You were lucky.’

Nell shook her head. ‘No, I wasn’t. I already had four cousins and my aunt and uncle didn’t want another kid. I don’t know why they took me in. My uncle only said it was because he owed my dad, but he made it clear it wasn’t something he wanted. My aunt wasn’t happy either. They just kind of ignored me.’

There was a steely glint in Aristophanes’ eyes. ‘Ignored you? How the hell did they ignore you?’

She shrugged. ‘They just did. All my cousins were six feet tall and blonde. Sporty. Academically gifted. And I was...none of the above.’

‘So, what happened?’

‘What do you mean what happened?’

‘I mean, how did it affect you? What did you do?’

It seemed a genuine question and, since he still hadn’t left, and the sharp intensity of his gaze hadn’t moved from hers, she had to assume it was.

‘I...decided to carve out my own identity and my own existence, I guess,’ she replied. ‘I wanted to be a doctor, or maybe a nurse, but I wasn’t academically gifted. I wanted to care for people, especially kids, because of my own experience, I suppose. So, I moved from Perth to Melbourne, and eventually decided on preschool care. I got a few certificates, found myself a job...and the rest, as they say, is history.’

He was still staring at her as if he’d never heard of anything more mystifying in his entire life yet was determined to understand. It made that horrible, bleak feeling inside her start to fade a little. ‘Why?’ he demanded. ‘Why did you think you weren’t academically gifted? Why did you want to care for children?’

‘Are we having a proper conversation now?’ The words slipped from her without her thinking, the urge she had to tease him irresistible. ‘Is that what’s happening?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Why is that amusing? I want to know.’

‘As an aside, do you ever find anything funny?’

‘I haven’t found anything in life to be particularly amusing, no.’

Her throat tightened abruptly. He looked quite serious. ‘Well, that’s a tragedy.’

Something glittered in his eyes for a moment, then it was gone. ‘Tell me why,’ he insisted.

She sighed. ‘I thought I wasn’t academically gifted because I wasn’t as intelligent as my cousins. They all got straight As while I was a steady C—B plus if I was lucky—student. I never excelled in anything, and I certainly didn’t have the marks I needed to be a doctor or a nurse.’

He shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders still tense and stiff. ‘Perhaps the school you went to wasn’t a good one. Perhaps the style of teaching didn’t suit you.’

This time it was her turn to look at him in puzzlement. ‘Or maybe I’m just not smart enough. Why is that important?’

The muscle in his jaw flicked again. ‘You’re the mother of my children and intelligence is important to me. Perhaps you are smarter than you think you are.’

‘Or maybe I’m as dumb as a post.’ The words were tinged with a bitterness she’d thought she’d long since put behind her, and she wished she hadn’t said them.

He stared at her a second, then abruptly came across the room to her, still scowling ferociously as if she’d done something to offend him. ‘You are not,’ he said with some insistence. ‘I always wondered why I wanted you so badly. The women I take as lovers are all, without exception, gifted with high intelligence. But you’re not a professor or a scientist. You teach small children. But you must be very gifted in some way in order to—’

‘Or maybe you want me to be smart because you can’t think of any other reason to want me?’ she interrupted, her temper rising. ‘Children are important. They’re the society we’ll have one day, so why are you looking down on my profession? I’m making sure that future society will be full of people who are empathetic and understanding. Who listen. Who build good relationships with others. It’s not rocket science, but it’s just as important, if not more so.’

He was silent a moment longer, then the hard lines of his face eased, as if she’d proved something to him. ‘There,’ he said softly. ‘You see? You don’t think you’re as dumb as a post at all.’

Her cheeks heated and she had to glance away to hide the strange fluttering feeling in her stomach that definitely didn’t have anything to do with her pregnancy. ‘You didn’t seem to think being a preschool teacher was so great compared to being a professor or scientist. Or a mathematical genius.’

‘I didn’t,’ he said. ‘But maybe I need to change my mind.’

‘Why?’ She glanced at him. ‘Because of me?’

‘Yes.’

‘But how can you say that when you don’t know me?’

‘Perhaps I should know you.’ He kept on staring at her as if she were a puzzle he desperately wanted to solve. ‘You’re the mother of my children. Don’t you think you’re worth knowing?’

You’re not, not to a man like him. Mediocre, remember? That’s what you’ll always be.

The thought drifted through her brain, thorny and sharp. It wasn’t anything her aunt and uncle had ever told her outright, but their silence when it came to her had left a void. A void that her own thoughts had filled for her. Because there had to be a reason that they’d never been interested in her. Never asking her if she’d done her homework, never wanting to know which part she’d got in the school play. Never remembering her birthday and never asking to see her school reports. Never really asking her about herself at all.

She’d been forgotten. She’d always thought that maybe it was because she wasn’t that interesting. Nothing special about her, nothing that would catch anyone’s attention. She’d tried not to listen to those thoughts, tried to prove to herself that she was better than what her aunt and uncle thought, that she was intelligent and strong and special. But she’d never really believed it.

Not until Aristophanes had come to her the night she’d hit her head, because he hadn’t been able to stay away. Then he’d given her the most perfect night she’d ever had, and for that brief time she’d believed. She’d believed she was as special as he made her feel.

She looked up into his cool silver eyes. ‘You tell me. Do you want to know me purely for the sake of the babies? Or for yourself?’ She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that question, but it had to be asked. For her own peace of mind if nothing else.

‘What difference would that make?’

‘It wouldn’t in the greater scheme of things. But it would make a difference to me.’

‘You don’t think you’re worth it,’ he said slowly, staring at her intently, as if she were a difficult text he was translating. And it was not a question.

The heat in her cheeks intensified and a desperate vulnerability crawled through her, making her turn her head to look out of the window so she didn’t have to look into his eyes. She didn’t like that he’d managed to see that about her. Then again, should she really have been so surprised? He was a genius, while she...

His thumb and forefinger gripped her chin, forcing her gaze back to his. ‘Look at me,’ he ordered softly. ‘Is that what this is about?’

Unable to pull away, Nell could do nothing but stare back. ‘I mean, would you think you were worth knowing? If no one in your entire life had ever shown any interest in you?’ She threw the words at him almost defiantly.

He scowled again, but this time she had the odd sense that it wasn’t her he was angry with. ‘ I am showing an interest,’ he said flatly. ‘And if I am showing an interest then, yes, you are definitely worth knowing.’

A quiver ran through her, almost a tremble. ‘But only because I’m the mother of your children. Not for any other reason, right?’

‘Wrong.’ His grip on her chin tightened. ‘I want to know for myself. You are a puzzle, Nell. And I like puzzles. I like puzzles very much.’ His thumb stroked her chin and before she could move, he’d bent his head and his mouth brushed over hers.

A shock of desire went through her and she couldn’t stop herself from kissing him back, because she was hungry for this. For him.

He allowed the kiss for a second, then pulled away. ‘No,’ he murmured, his breathing fast. ‘No, we can’t do this.’ He released her and stepped back. ‘Rest now. I will have the housekeeper unpack your things. But tonight...’ His gaze intensified. ‘You will tell me everything about yourself over dinner, understand?’