Page 72 of Modern Romance January 2025 1-4

She remembered her mother saying she hadn’t wanted to buy a pram until just before Portia was born, superstitiously fearing to tempt fate. Portia understood that fear. There were too many things that could go wrong in a pregnancy.

‘Why do you ask?’

‘You could have excellent medical care in Athens.’

Her gaze shot to his. ‘Athens?’

Too many half-formed thoughts shot through her brain. Did he want his child born there to get Greek citizenship? Did he want to raise it there without her? Her heart hammered. It was a crazy idea. Lex would never try to do such a thing.

But he wasn’t the boy she’d once known, was he? For all their shared memories and passion, he was Lex Tomaras now, a rich man living and working in a foreign land with phenomenal resources at his disposal. A virtual stranger, except in bed.

‘Why would I have the baby in Athens?’

He spread his hands and lifted his straight shoulders in a gesture that seemed at once totally Mediterranean and surprisingly enticing.

‘It would make sense. If you married me.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘MARRY?’

The word escaped as a yelp so loud a couple of pigeons strutting in hopes of a feed took off in a whir of wings. A woman approaching with a pram stared hard then took a turning onto another path.

Portia noticed all that even though her gaze was fixed on the man before her. For something strange had happened, time slowing, the air around them thickening while she became aware of so many sensations she’d never noticed before. The weight of her eyelids as she blinked. The frenetic rush of her pulse. The effort it took to fill her lungs.

‘It seems a sensible solution.’

Solution. Did he see their child as a problem? Her mouth flattened as she processed that. She hadn’t missed his frown when she told him the news, but she’d put that down to surprise. Now she wondered.

‘Sensible? It sounds completely Victorian.’

Now his frown was back, edging towards a scowl, and still he was the most compelling, attractive man she’d ever known.

Pregnancy hormones had a lot to answer for. This was the man who’d left her without a second thought. Who’d broken her heart.

‘Victorian?’ He faced her full on now, feet planted wide, hands deep in his pockets in a stance that accentuated the breadth of his shoulders and the strength in his long frame. At nineteen he’d been slender and rangy, tough from working in the stables. Now he’d filled out to the lean strength of a powerful man in his prime. ‘You think it’s old-fashioned to want to raise my child? To give it a family?’

The tight knot beneath her ribs pulled loose and suddenly her breath came more easily. His intentions were good. He was thinking of their child.

Their child.Even now she couldn’t quite believe it. Despite the sleeplessness and the recent hints of nausea, it was hard to get her head around the idea that this baby was real.

‘I’m glad to know you want to be involved.’ Even if it did complicate matters for her. ‘That you’re thinking of our child’s best interests. But families come in all shapes and sizes. We don’t have to marry for the baby’s sake.’

Slowly he shook his head, his gaze never leaving hers. ‘The girl I knew would never have hesitated to say yes. We’d planned to spend our lives together, remember?’

‘Oh, I remember.’ She suspected she’d carried the remnants of those hopes longer than he had. Sometimes even now she woke from dreams of them together, only to discover the life they’d built was imaginary, not real. ‘But that was a long time ago, Lex. Things have changed. We’re different people.’

He shrugged. ‘And yet we’re about to become parents.’

In the folds of his encompassing coat she crossed her fingers.

‘We’re still strangers.’ Seeing him raise one disbelieving eyebrow she clarified. ‘You know we are, Lex. A decade is a long time and a tumble or two in bed isn’t the same as real intimacy. It’s no basis for marriage. What if we married and found we couldn’t get on? What would that do to our child? Far better to live apart but cooperate to raise our baby than to make a terrible mistake.’

‘You’ve changed. I don’t recall the Portia I knew being so negative.’

‘Not negative. Cautious. I’m not an impulsive teenager anymore. I’ve learnt life isn’t as simple as I once believed. Sometimes hoping just isn’t enough.’

His dark eyebrows arrowed down, his mouth turning grim, and she knew he too was thinking about how their dream of a life together had shattered.

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