Page 89 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 1-4

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 forher, 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.’

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