Rebecca Winters

The Greek Bachelors Collection


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vision of him and did funny things to her heart. He was so gloriously inept, but so determined to master these little child-care tasks. Like he’d suffer terribly if he failed to do it right.

      Get smacked, maybe. With a belt.

      Oh, Theo. Her throat filled with words she couldn’t voice.

      “That’s gross,” he replied after taking a moment to get her meaning about what the kids ate.

      “It’s reality,” she murmured, lifting Zephyr from his chair and adding, “Do you want to watch them in the other room or finish cleaning up in here?”

      As the older pair toddled off in two directions, he gave her a boggled look. “Maybe we should call an agency.”

      She tensed. So much for their tentative accord. “You don’t want me and Zephyr here after all then.” It was all she could do to pretend his rejection of their son didn’t shatter her.

      “No, I mean we need more help. This is a lot of work! Has either of us sat down since we walked in here four hours ago?” He skimmed a hand over his dry but uncombed hair and stabbed a look at Zephyr. “But now we’ve got this development to manage, too. Discretion is more important than ever, so I guess that leaves us stuck doing it ourselves.”

      “Development?” she repeated, hysterical laughter competing with outrage. Stuck?

      “Who else besides your cousin’s husband knows I’m— That you and I—”

      “Made a baby?” she provided tartly. She tried to remember that he wasn’t the most verbal person alive and this was all quite a shock for him, but honestly, why was it so hard for him to acknowledge his son? “Are you ashamed of Zephyr?” she guessed in a tone that thinned to outrage as the possibility sank in. It was the worst thing he could throw at her, striking directly into her Achilles heel. Into her soul.

      “I’m shocked! You had to know I would be.” He’d changed into a basic white T-shirt that strained across his chest as he gestured toward the view of the sea. “I can’t have my family finding out through some cheap sensationalism on the internet. We’ve suffered enough secrets and lies as it is.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

      Unwillingly, she felt sorry for him, which was crazy. He didn’t deserve it, but, “I did try to call you when I first realized I was pregnant,” she reminded.

      He sighed, brows coming together in a pensive frown. “I debated calling you back, I did, but Adara turned up pregnant and given her previous miscarriages Demitri and I had to take over her workload. Then our mother died. By the time the dust settled, there didn’t seem any point in contacting you.”

      They’d both been going through a lot. She supposed she couldn’t fault him too much for not returning her calls under those circumstances.

      “But I trusted you to take that pill, Jaya. What happened?”

      The blame in his tone stabbed her, even though she’d tried to prepare herself for it every time she’d mentally walked through this conversation. Yes, she’d failed to protect both of them from the consequences of their night together and she was willing to own that, but his anger and disappointment filled her with umbrage. She didn’t want to feel defensive and solely responsible. He knew what could happen from unprotected sex. It didn’t matter that she had a better understanding of what had driven him that night. He had still chosen to sleep with her to satisfy his own selfish needs.

      Just as, when it came down to it, she’d kept their baby for her own selfish reasons.

      “The pill was expired,” she explained with as much dignity as she could scrape together. “I thought I’d be able to get a fresh one once I landed in France, but with the time change and Saranya being so ill, it was days before I came up for air. By then I’d missed the window. Then I thought I’d wait to see if I had anything to worry about.”

      She flinched from the intensity of his judgmental stare, sinking bleakly back into that time of despair, feeling again the torn sensation of having said goodbye to her life in Bali, and Theo, then facing an even more brutal goodbye with her cousin.

      Lifting her chin, she finished without apology, “When it turned out I was pregnant, I couldn’t take steps to end it. I just couldn’t, not with Saranya dying in front of me. I needed something to look forward to. The promise of life and love.”

      Scanning the lounge to ensure the older kids were staying out of trouble, she tried to hide that she’d also needed her connection to Theo to continue. Her conscience had tortured her over not keeping her word, but she wasn’t sorry. Not one bit.

      “I tried to tell you because you deserved to know.” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t, and don’t, expect anything from you. Not money. Not marriage. He was my decision. He’s my responsibility.”

      There. That’s all she’d ever wanted to say, even though she had ached every day to share her pregnancy and baby with Theo. Zephyr was such a little miracle. She wanted Theo to love him as much as she did.

      “Oh, sweetie, don’t eat that—” she blurted, realizing Androu had picked lint out of the carpet.

      Rushing forward was a much-needed break from the weight of Theo’s gaze. She couldn’t face him after what she’d just said and didn’t want to see his relief at being absolved of any duty or involvement with his son.

      * * *

      Theo tried to find comfort in her letting him off the hook. God knew he didn’t want to explore the miasma of primordial goo that bubbled inside him as he considered what it meant to be a father.

      Inexplicably he was hurt, however. Stinging with rejection at her wanting nothing to do with him.

      Fortunately, he was too busy to dwell on whether he should feel sorry for himself or not. Once the kitchenette was tidied, there were beds to set up and pajamas to be ordered, then everyone had to be threaded into them—which was like pushing a rope up a staircase.

      “I’m thinking we need bedtime stories and some stuffies. Do they have special blankets or sleeping toys? This could be a rough night,” Jaya warned as she placed a call to a nearby shop before it closed.

      “Unlike the day it’s been?” he drawled, waving agreement to whatever she wanted to charge to the room.

      He wasn’t trying to fuel a fight. It struck him how painfully familiar this tension was, like a typical Makricosta gathering. They had a full-grown elephant between them in the shape of a dark-haired baby boy, but they remained civil, only speaking about the logistics of what needed to be done as they ran their mini-hotel. It should have been a relief, but he found the circumventing and pretending frustrating.

      Was this his punishment for the mistake of not wearing a condom? Because he was feeling castigated, chastised and rebuked. Slapped around, knocked down and kicked to the curb.

      Why? he found himself wanting to demand. Why don’t you want anything from me? Because you’re afraid I’ll screw up?

      He’d never been able to challenge his father, not without suffering worse for it, and he wasn’t sure how to act around Jaya when he felt this abused. His primary instinct when his emotions were churned up was to isolate himself, but no luck on that score. It was all hands on deck and he was about as frayed and tired as the toddlers, barely keeping it together as he counted down the minutes to their bedtime.

      If only Jaya would offer the same quiet reassurance she kept giving to the homesick tykes. He watched her adeptly keep them from shedding more than a few sniffles, relieved to know he’d made the right choice in tracking her down, but he was damned jealous of each cuddle and kiss she offered.

      His gaze fell on Zephyr and he experienced the crack between the eyes that was his own egocentric vulnerability eighteen months ago. If only he could go back to the ignorance that had been bliss yesterday.

      Not all the way back to Bali, though. He didn’t regret making love to her.

      Disturbed, he shifted