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Mediterranean Mavericks: Greeks


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in.’

      Now Rocco’s face did show some animation, a snarl flitting over it. ‘You enter my home when I say you do.’

      Christian had had enough. He was there to see his wife, not debase himself by getting into a fight with his brother-in-law. Raising himself to his full height, he climbed the steps and stood eye to eye with him. ‘I know Alessandra is your sister but she is my wife and the baby she is carrying in her womb is mine—mine—and I will fight with every breath in my body to protect them. I am going to see her whether you like it or not, so, are you going to let me the easy way or the hard way?’

      He couldn’t believe it had come to this, two old friends squaring up to each other. If he wasn’t so heartsick about his wife there would be some room in his heart to mourn the death of a friendship he’d valued so highly and had hoped, until this precise moment, could one day be mended.

      To his surprise, Rocco’s stance relaxed a fraction. He looked him over, nodding slowly, his eyes thawing. ‘She’s in the summer room.’

      Christian waited for the catch. When no catch seemed forthcoming, he headed off in the direction he remembered.

      ‘Memento vivere, Rocco called out.

      The words made him pause in his tracks. He turned his head and supplied, ‘Remember to live.’

      Finally a smile attached itself to Rocco’s face. ‘The best life to live is with the woman you love, si?’

      He agreed with a nod. ‘Living without the woman you love is no life.’

      Rocco laughed. ‘My sister is going to run rings around you.’

      ‘She already is.’ As quickly as Christian’s cheeks raised up into a quick grin, he felt a fragmented piece of him reattach itself.

      Now to find his wife and see if all the other broken pieces could be fixed too.

      He found her curled up on the daybed, a cross between a chaise longue and a sofa, reading a glossy magazine. Beneath the simple black dress she wore, he could see the definite rounding of her belly, safely protecting their baby in its confines.

      He would give his life to keep Alessandra and their baby safe from harm.

      She glanced up, her eyes widening to see him there. ‘Christian.’ Her voice sounded hoarse. ‘What are you doing here?’

      ‘I’ve come to bring you home.’

      She raised a brow. ‘Home?’

      ‘Home. With me. Where you belong.’

      Sighing, she put the magazine down and swung her legs round, dipping her head. ‘I told you I wanted some space.’ Her words were muffled behind the sheath of her hair that had fallen in front of her face.

      ‘You’ve had enough space from me to last you forever.’

      ‘Nothing’s changed…’

      ‘Everything’s changed.’ Crouching down on his haunches before her, he gently swiped her hair away and placed a finger under her chin.

      Her gaze met his for a brief moment, honeyed eyes wide with pain.

      ‘Answer me one question. Do you love me?’

      ‘Are you trying to humiliate me? Is that why you’ve come here?’

      ‘I found the pictures you took of me.’

      Her mouth curled in bitterness. ‘Then you already know the answer.’

      ‘I want to hear it from your lips.’

      ‘Why? Let me have some dignity, please.’

      ‘Because I’ve never heard the words before.’

      A glimmer of shock passed over her. She sat up straight and looked at him—really looked at him. ‘Never?’

      ‘Never.’ Not from his mother. Not from any of the scores of women he’d had throughout the years, which wasn’t surprising, considering he would leave before the beds had cooled. ‘Please, agapi mou, if the words are true then say them.’

      She’d lost so much colour he feared she would faint. But that was not Alessandra’s style. This was not a woman who wilted under pressure. Her lips clamped together, her eyes brimming with tears, he watched her fight to stop from falling.

      ‘Shall I make it easy for you?’ he said quietly. ‘How about if I were to tell you that I love you? Would that make it easier for you to say the words?’

      Her chest hitched as she gave a sharp nod, still not speaking.

      ‘I love you.’

      One solitary tear did break free, trickling down her cheek. He wiped it with his thumb.

      ‘I’ve spent many hours these past couple of weeks looking at those photos you took of me. You see something in me no one else can. The thing I never wanted you or anyone to see.’

      ‘What thing?’ she whispered.

      ‘The man inside. The gutter rat who grew up feeling dirty and unworthy and unlovable.’

      ‘You’re not…’

      He placed a finger to her lips, though the sound of her outrage warmed the coldness inside him. ‘I’ve been fighting to stop you getting too close since before our wedding night because I knew you were so near to seeing what’s inside me. I thought it would repel you as it does my mother. I knew when you spoke of love in our apartment what you were trying to tell me, but I refused to listen. I didn’t think I deserved your love. I was scared that to fall in love with you would be to destroy you—and you, Alessandra Mondelli, whom I so wish would be Alessandra Markos, are the most precious person in the world to me. Without you, I am nothing. I accept that I’m not good enough for you…’

      ‘Will you stop saying that?’ She dug her nails into his skin. ‘You are not a gutter rat. You are…everything. Everything you’ve achieved with your life, everything you’ve done… If anyone’s undeserving, it’s me.’

      ‘To me, you are a princess. You deserve all the richness this world can bring, agapi mou, and I will do everything in my power to give it to you—if you’ll let me. I love you and I don’t want to live another day without you.’

      Alessandra felt a whoosh of air leave her body. He loved her?

      He loved her?

      He loved her!

      He placed her hands to his chest. She could feel his heartbeat thrumming wildly beneath his shirt. ‘I thought I could compartmentalise our marriage in the same way I compartmentalise my relationship with my mother. She lives in a corner of my life, safely hidden away from everyone so she cannot hurt me or anyone else. I told myself I would marry you to become a father and not a husband but I was wrong—I wanted you as much as the baby and was desperate to make you mine. I tried to compartmentalise you, not because I was scared of hurting you, but because deep down I knew you had the power to hurt me.’

      ‘I have the power to hurt you?’ she whispered, gazing at the man she loved so much.

      ‘More than you could ever know. Throughout my childhood I wanted nothing more than to make my mother proud and for her to love me. The power she had over me, the power to hurt me… I swore no one else would ever have that power. But then you came into my life and nestled straight into my heart and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I used to fear that falling in love with someone would curse them, make them turn into her. But you could never be like her. She took her heartbreak and bitterness out on me. You would never do that to our child. There hasn’t been anyone else since that first night we had and I know there never will be. Only you.’

      He brushed a thumb over her lips. ‘I was desperate for you to sell your apartment, not because I thought it made sense in any way but because I felt