his arm. He felt it now, leaping between them even as they argued. All he needed to do was fan it into burning flame. Passion was surely a good basis for marriage. Better than slippery, untrustworthy love.
‘I told you, Niko doesn’t—’
‘Do well with a change in routine. Yes. But he must have had holidays.’
Iolanthe shook her head. ‘We don’t go anywhere.’
His assumption that she had lived a spoilt, carefree socialite’s life experienced another blow. ‘Then you don’t know if a holiday would suit him,’ he stated, determined to press his point—and win. ‘Give us this chance, Iolanthe. Surely I deserve that much.’
Guilt flashed across her features and her shoulders sagged. ‘Very well,’ she whispered, and Alekos felt a surge of triumph as well as one of anticipation and desire. He had no intention of letting Iolanthe or his son slip away from him again.
IOLANTHE LEANED FORWARD, her hands on the railing of Alekos’s super yacht, and lifted her face to the sea breeze. She’d been dreading these next few weeks with Alekos, not only for Niko’s sake, as he would naturally resist any change, but for her own. A few weeks in Alekos’s company and her resolve to be strong and independent would start to crack and crumble. She felt it. She knew it.
Still, she found she was enjoying this moment, with the sun warm on her head and the sea air cool on her face. The Aegean stretched before them in an undulating blanket of blue-green; Alekos had told them his private island was a few hours’ sail from the mainland.
Niko had been surprisingly adaptable, if a bit wary, about this sudden holiday. He sat now under an awning on the deck, his laptop opened on the table before him as he worked on another app.
Iolanthe watched out of the corner of her eye as Alekos approached him, his manner relaxed and easy. Out here on the sea, the wind ruffling his dark hair, his skin looking bronzed under the hot Greek sun, Alekos seemed just as formidable and attractive as he did in his office in Athens, dressed in an immaculate suit. Now he wore board shorts and a white T-shirt that the wind whipped against his chest, outlining his pectoral muscles and reminding Iolanthe of how she’d once stroked and touched his chest. She’d called him exquisite.
The memory made her cringe even as a treacherous heat flooded through her. Ten years on Alekos was just as devastatingly sexy, if not more, than he had been back when she’d been a starstruck innocent.
She tried now not to eavesdrop on his conversation with Niko, and in truth there wasn’t much to overhear. Alekos’s relaxed questions were met with tense, monosyllabic answers, her son’s gaze not moving from the computer screen.
Maybe she shouldn’t have allowed Niko to bring his laptop, but she knew it acted as a security blanket for him, as well as a confidence-booster. Away from his computer Niko was a socially awkward and uncertain child. In cyberspace, designing apps and interacting online, he was a boy genius.
Alekos left Niko to his laptop and joined her at the deck, making all of Iolanthe’s senses go on high alert. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he rested his hands on the railing—strong brown hands that she remembered the feel of against her skin.
‘This is all amazing,’ she murmured as she looked away. ‘A yacht...a private island...’ From the moment Alekos had picked them up that morning, she and Niko had experienced unprecedented luxury, from the stretch limo outfitted with video screens and a minibar to the super yacht they were now taking to Alekos’s own private paradise. Iolanthe suspected the unaccustomed treats were what was smoothing Niko’s transition from comfortable, secure routine into the unknown. So far he’d been surprisingly, quietly amenable to everything, although Iolanthe knew better than to coast along, assuming that was how it was always going to be. Still, she was enjoying the brief reprieve.
‘I thought you were used to luxury,’ Alekos remarked. ‘As the only child of a very rich man and then the wife of another very rich man.’
‘Lukas wasn’t as rich as all that,’ Iolanthe said before she could stop herself. Alekos frowned.
‘What do you mean?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she dismissed. She didn’t want to enlighten Alekos on the sorry state of her financial affairs. ‘In any case, I never travelled or experienced this kind of luxury. Not,’ she amended, ‘that I’m a poor little rich girl, crying over what I didn’t have. The country estate I grew up on was very well appointed.’
‘And you stayed there your whole childhood?’
‘Yes, except for the occasional trip into Athens. My father wanted to keep me sheltered.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘He was a very old-fashioned man.’
‘Do you miss him?’ Alekos asked, and Iolanthe heard a note in his tone that she couldn’t quite decipher. She didn’t think she liked it.
‘Yes, although sometimes I think I miss what we could have had if...if things had been different.’
‘You mean if we...’ He gestured between them, and then to Niko.
‘Yes.’ She bit her lip. ‘He was so angry and disappointed in me, and I’m not sure I can even blame him. But even though I disappointed him, he loved Niko.’ She smiled at her son bent over his laptop. ‘For that alone I can’t hold anything against him. And Niko adored my father.’ Talos’s admittedly sporadic attention had been a balm after Lukas’s continuous rejection. ‘His death affected him badly.’
Alekos didn’t say anything for a moment, his hooded gaze remaining on the sea. ‘Your mother died when you were young,’ he stated finally.
‘Yes.’ She slanted him a questioning glance. ‘How did you know that?’
‘I read it in a business journal.’ His mouth twisted. ‘“Talos Petrakis the Family Man”.’
‘He was a family man,’ she defended. Now she really didn’t like his tone. ‘Just a very traditional one.’ And she’d chafed against the bonds of duty her father had put on her. Still, she didn’t want Alekos criticising him, for Niko’s sake if not her own.
Alekos nodded, shifting restlessly, his hands tightening on the railing. ‘Of course.’ He didn’t sound as if he believed her. ‘Anyway, it must have been difficult to grow up without a mother.’
‘I never knew anything else.’ She glanced at him, trying to assess his mood. He’d seemed relaxed when he’d first joined her at the railing, but now he looked tense. ‘From what you said the other night, it seems like you grew up with neither.’
‘That’s correct.’ He made it sound as if she’d got a right answer on a maths test.
‘It must have been very hard for you,’ Iolanthe persisted. Having this conversation made her realise how little she knew this man—and how much she now wanted to. Understanding him a bit better could only help their dealings with each other...whatever those ended up being.
‘It was what it was,’ Alekos answered, squinting as he looked out at the glittering horizon.
‘You said that before, but it doesn’t really mean anything.’ Alekos just shrugged. Clearly he didn’t like talking about himself, or at least about his childhood. She decided to change the subject. ‘Did you make some headway with Niko?’
‘A beginning. He seems wary of me. Distrustful, even.’
‘He’s wary of everyone. You shouldn’t take it personally.’
Alekos nodded slowly, but the answer didn’t seem to satisfy him. With a sinking feeling Iolanthe wondered if Alekos would be on a mission to change Niko or try to fix him. She wanted Alekos to accept and even love their son for who he was, but she knew that would take time.
‘So tell me where