The Secret Behind the Greek's Return Read online

  ‘What on earth were you thinking when you agreed to marry him?’

  ‘Actually, he agreed to marry me.’

  ‘Marriage was your idea?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What the hell...?’ The woman who’d made Nikos do all the running in their relationship had been the one to propose? The notion landed like a white-hot slap.

  She spun to face him, eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘Have you forgotten that my father was murdered?’ she ground out. ‘Our dog drowned! Can you imagine what it was like for me to have a newborn baby and a business to run under those circumstances when the cartel was still out there circling my family like sharks? I was juggling a thousand balls on my own and the people who should have helped wouldn’t or couldn’t.’

  ‘So you went running to Raul Torres?’ he accused. ‘I learned in one hour of research that he’s a snake and you chose him as a father to my child?’ And a husband for herself.

  ‘I was trying to protect us!’

  ‘You had protection!’

  ‘Paid protection! Niki had no father or grandfather. All he had was me and Mama.’ She put the bottle of Scotch to her lips but before she could take a swig lowered it again. ‘Don’t you think that if my son’s father hadn’t decided to fake his own death without telling me, then things might have been different?’ Her face contorted as she swigged the Scotch. ‘If you’d confided in me and had the courage to tell me we were over—and, let’s be honest, you used the faking of your death as an excuse to dump me without the bother of having to tell me—I would have been hurt but at least I would have known you were out there and that one day you’d come back and be Niki’s father. I would have had something to hold onto.’

  ‘Don’t blame your lack of judgement on me,’ he snarled. Her insinuation that he’d been too cowardly to end things had hit the intended target.

  It was true that he’d had no intention of seeing her again but that was because he’d reasoned they’d had their time together. It would have come to an end anyway. He’d given Marisa more than he’d given any other lover. Given her all he was capable of.

  If he’d known there was the smallest chance that she could be pregnant then of course he would have acted differently but he hadn’t had the faintest idea and for her to try and put some of the blame for her actions on his shoulders was enraging. When he’d made the decision to fake his death, her family had been nowhere near the cartel’s radar. He’d never dreamed they could have created a life together either, but he knew it now and he was here, ready to take responsibility and step up to the mark. If he was the coward she implied he’d still be in Mykonos. He would be like his father, happy to leave the burden of an unwanted child on someone else’s shoulders. ‘I get that it’s been a difficult time for you...’

  ‘Difficult?’ she screamed. ‘I gave birth to my son with my father fresh in his grave and thinking the man I loved was fish food!’ And with that, she hurled the almost empty bottle of Scotch across the suite. It landed on the dining table and smashed into pieces.

  * * *

  Nikos surveyed the damage, from the shattered mess of glass on and around the table to the woman who was staring at him frozen in white-faced horror.

  He was saved from deciding which mess to prioritise by the knock on the door.

  Trying to get a grip on the fetid emotions burning his guts, he rubbed the back of his neck. ‘That will be your sister.’

  ‘I’ll get it.’

  He watched her stumble to the door then turned away. He didn’t like the way his heart tugged to see her trying to hold her head up, as if she were fighting to regain her dignity.

  Swallowing hard in a throat that had inexplicably thickened, he began collecting the larger shards of glass. By the time he’d put them in a bin and called the concierge service to send someone to the suite to clear the rest of it, Marisa and Elsa had finished their murmured conversation and they were alone again.

  She stood with her back to the closed door hugging her silver bag to her chest.

  ‘Has Estrella been in touch?’ he asked.

  ‘Just to put my mind at ease that Niki’s fine.’

  ‘You don’t leave him much?’ He observed her reaction carefully. Not until he watched Marisa interact with their son would he be able to judge her as a mother but it was necessary to be prepared.

  Her shoulders hunched in on themselves as she stepped wearily to the sofa. ‘Very rarely.’

  She sat heavily and clutched at her head. After a long moment, she met his stare. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, throat moving and chin wobbling. ‘I didn’t mean to throw it.’

  A spike of guilt sliced through him.

  ‘I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have passed judgement.’ And he had no right to feel any kind of jealousy that she’d moved on with her life. It was irrational and no doubt caused by spending eighteen months with only his tortured thoughts for company.

  Marisa rubbed her pounding forehead and tried to control the trembles fighting to break out through her.

  Since Niki’s birth, she’d spent each and every day using all her strength to keep a lid on her emotions. Nikos’s return had sprung the lid free and it was terrifying how easily the emotions were taking control of her.

  ‘I know I made a mistake with Raul,’ she said, the compulsion to explain too strong to keep contained. ‘But, Nikos, I was desperate. All I could think was that Niki deserved a father and that I needed help. My head was all over the place. Grief...’ She swallowed and rubbed her forehead even harder, choosing her words carefully. ‘I’d lost my father and protector. I didn’t want to marry anyone but I thought I needed to, for Niki’s sake and for the business’s sake.’

  ‘What about for your sake?’

  ‘Those reasons were for my sake. I was trying to find some kind of peace of mind. Protecting my son and getting help for the business was the only way for me to have that.’

  ‘Yes, but you can’t deny that Raul’s a handsome man,’ he observed casually. ‘Waking up to that face must have made it an easier pill to swallow.’

  She clutched her cheeks, immediately understanding his implication. ‘God, no, that had no part in it. We didn’t... We never...’

  His brow rose sceptically. ‘Never?’

  ‘No!’ Marisa dropped her gaze to the carpet between her feet in a futile attempt to hide the flame of colour scorching her face. ‘I wasn’t ready.’

  She would never have been ready, something Raul, with a ready-made mistress tucked away, had been happy to accept, but there was no way she would admit that to Nikos. Her pride would not allow him to know how desperate her grief for him had been or that the thought of another man touching her left her cold inside, not now that she knew how little she’d meant to him.

  To her great relief, their conversation was interrupted by another knock on the door.

  This time it was the concierge service. The splinters of glass were vacuumed in short order but the noise was enough to make the pounding in her head feel like a dozen hammers were knocking inside it.

  ‘Headache?’ Nikos asked when they were alone again, observing the way she was now clutching her whole head. The colour he hadn’t noticed return to her cheeks had drained from her again.

  ‘I don’t feel so good.’ She didn’t sound so good either. Her words had a definite slur to them. ‘I think my body’s telling me off for all the Scotch...and the champagne.’

  ‘I’ll get you some painkillers.’

  He found some in his toiletry bag, took a bottle of water from the fridge and handed them to her.

  She gave a grateful, wan smile and swallowed the painkillers down with half the water.

  ‘Lie down and rest for a while,’ he said.

  ‘I need to speak to Raul.’

  ‘Out of the question.’ He wasn’t letting her out of his sight.

 
‘Nikos—’

  ‘No,’ he cut in firmly. ‘You’re not in any state to deal with him. Rest, sober up...’

  ‘I’m not drunk.’

  ‘You should be.’

  ‘I know.’

  He couldn’t help but smile. ‘You’re not drunk but you are feeling the effects. Your body’s telling you to rest, so rest. Have my bed if you want.’

  She shook her head, the action making her wince. ‘I should go home.’

  ‘Is your housekeeper expecting you back?’

  ‘Not until morning.’

  ‘Then rest for a while. I’ll get my driver to take us to your home when you’re feeling better.’

  ‘Us?’

  ‘I want to see my son, Marisa.’ And see with his own eyes what kind of a mother she was. From everything she’d said, he doubted she was as lousy and indifferent a mother as his own had been but he needed to be certain. Words were cheap. If he sensed for a second that she treated their son as an encumbrance or neglected him in any way, he would sue for custody. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  ‘Okay,’ Marisa whispered, resting her head back. Her head was killing her. ‘You can see him but you’ll have to wait until morning to meet him properly. He’s grouchy like his father when he doesn’t get enough sleep.’

  Nikos’s faint chuckle was the last thing she remembered before she fell asleep.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  NIKOS, ARMS FOLDED across his chest, gazed at Marisa fast asleep on the sofa in exactly the same position she’d been when he’d left the suite an hour ago. He should wake her. That couldn’t be a comfortable position to sleep in.

  He whispered her name. No response.

  Swallowing back the lump in his throat, he placed a finger to her shoulder and carefully prodded. No response.

  He stepped back and considered his options. He could leave her as she was or carry her to his bed. When he’d lifted her into his arms earlier after her faint it had been an automatic reaction, something he’d done without any forethought.

  A small part of him acknowledged he’d swept her out of the party room before Raul regained his wits enough to try and bring her round himself.

  He could hardly believe the rush of exultation that had swept through him at Marisa’s admission that she hadn’t slept with her fiancé.

  Marisa was the only woman Nikos had been with whose sexual appetite matched his own. His shock at her virginity had quickly been forgotten as her inhibitions had disappeared. In the bedroom, she’d blossomed, gained a voracious appetite that had blown his mind and fed his own hunger into a heady lust that had kept him with her far longer than he usually stayed with a lover. As bad as it had been to imagine her enjoying those same heady, sensual appetites with that vile man, he wouldn’t have thought any less of her for it. Humans were carnal creatures, Marisa especially so.

  What had stopped her enjoying them with Raul? Did motherhood reduce a woman’s libido?

  He took another step back and cursed himself for speculating and exulting over something that was none of his business. It was natural that he would still feel stirrings for her. There hadn’t been anyone since her, no one for him to transfer his lust to. He would rectify that as soon as possible.

  Spinning on his heel, he strode to the suite’s bedroom and looked in the wardrobe. There, he found spare bedding. He grabbed some and carried it back to the living area.

  Working swiftly, he put the pillow on the edge of the sofa and then gently coaxed her flat so her head rested on it.

  She stirred and mumbled something that made him freeze and sent his pulses soaring.

  It sounded like she’d said his name.

  For a passage of time that lasted an age, he stared at her beautiful face, hardly able to breathe, the thuds of his heart echoing in his ears.

  She stirred again and pulled her knees up to the foetal position. The familiarity of it wrenched something in his chest.

  He gritted his teeth and forced air into his lungs.

  It was late. It had been a far more emotional evening than he’d anticipated and he too had drunk more Scotch than was good for him. It was no wonder his reactions were all over the place. A few hours’ sleep would put him back on his usual even keel.

  In one burst of action, he pulled her shoes off, draped the blanket over her and strode to the suite’s bedroom, closing the door behind him.

  * * *

  Marisa opened her eyes, going from heavy sleep to full alertness in an instant.

  Nikos.

  He was alive.

  Or had she dreamt it?

  A look at her watch told her it was four in the morning.

  She threw the soft blanket off—where had that come from? Had he put it on her?—and her stockinged feet sank into thick carpet.

  Rubbing her eyes, she stared at the sofa. At some point while she’d slept, Nikos had put a pillow under her head, laid her flat on her side and covered her.

  She hadn’t dreamt him.

  Heart in her throat, she found herself in the adjoining room before she even knew she’d opened the door and walked into it.

  The light in there was incredibly faint, the little illumination coming from the lamp Nikos had left on for her in the living area. It was enough for her to see the shape of his body nestled under the covers, breathing deeply.

  She definitely hadn’t dreamt him.

  Nikos was alive.

  The relief was almost as overwhelming as it had been the first time, and, eyes glued to his sleeping shadowed face, she stretched out a trembling hand and lightly pressed her fingers against his cheek. The warmth of his skin made her sag with fresh relief and assailed her with memories of the joy she’d felt to wrap herself against him at night and bask in the heat that had radiated from his body. After their first night together, any nights spent alone had always felt so cold. From the nightmare day she’d been told he was missing, the coldness had lived in her constantly.

  The relief was short-lived. A hand twice the size of her own flew like a rocket from under the sheet and wrapped around hers.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Her heart jumped into her throat, the beats vibrating through her suddenly frozen body.

  Nikos raised his head and blinked the sleep from his eyes, trying to clear the thickness from his just awoken brain, and stared at the motionless form standing beside him.

  ‘Marisa?’ His voice sounded thick to his own ears too. Was he really awake? Or dreaming?

  As his eyes adjusted he saw the shock in her wide eyes before his gaze drifted down to notice the buttons of her dress around her bust had popped open in her sleep to show the swell of her breast in the black lace bra she wore.

  Arousal coiled its seductive way through his bloodstream to remember the taste of her skin on his tongue and the heady scent of her musk. He tugged her closer to him, suddenly filled with the need to taste it again, taste her again, to hear the throaty moans of her pleasure and feel the burn of their flesh pressed together. It was a burn he’d never felt with anyone but her.

  Her lips parted. Her breath hitched. Her face lowered to his...

  His mouth filled with moisture, lips tingling with anticipation. He put his other hand to her neck and his arousal accelerated.

  It had been so long...

  Then, with her mouth hovering just inches from his, she jerked back and snatched her hand away. It fluttered to her rising chest.

  ‘I’m sorry for waking you,’ she whispered, backing away some more. ‘I was just checking I hadn’t dreamt you.’

  And then she disappeared from his room as silently as she’d entered it, leaving him blinking at the empty space she’d filled only seconds before.

  Nikos put his fingers to his cheek. If he couldn’t still feel the burn from the mark of her touch, he would believe he’d just dreamt the whole t
hing.

  * * *

  Marisa unlocked the door and stepped inside the reception room. She removed her shoes and waited for Nikos to do likewise. In silence, they headed for the stairs. It was only six thirty. She’d messaged Estrella to tell her she was coming home. Her mother would still be in the suite she’d expected to share with Marisa at the hotel but the rest of household would be sleeping. There was one member of it, though, that she was confident would be awake. Her son.

  The silence between her and Nikos had been almost total since he’d appeared in the suite’s living area, freshly showered and ready to meet his son.

  Neither of them had mentioned her visit to his bedroom. If she had her way it would never be spoken of. It had been a foolish, impulsive thing to do. She tried not to beat herself up about it but it was hard. It seemed like everything she did lately was wrong.

  But when she opened her son’s bedroom door and found him lying on his back, kicking his plump legs in the air, she allowed herself the credit of knowing that when it came to him, she mostly got things right. He was a happy, healthy baby. What mother could ask for more?

  As soon as he saw her, his legs kicked even more frantically and he held his arms out to her.

  She leaned over to scoop him up. ‘Good morning, baby boy,’ she murmured, kissing his cheek.

  Wide awake, he grabbed at her hair and jiggled in her arms. And then he caught sight of the stranger in the midst and stared at his father with frank curiosity.

  Nikos found himself holding his breath, his stare totally and utterly captivated by the chunky bundle in Marisa’s arms. Eyes of a colour he couldn’t determine were fixed on him, cute little mouth making funny blowing noises. He had a cleft in his chin Nikos recognised from his own baby photos.

  His heart swelled. For a moment he felt light-headed.

  That was his son.

  He blinked and caught Marisa’s cautious stare.

  ‘Do you want to hold him?’ she asked.