Page 38 of Beauty and the Greek Billionaire

“You know I grew up in an orphanage, right?” he said as they continued on through the market. Marianna stopped at a vendor with a window full of sticky-looking pastries. “Pretty sure that’s close to the top of undesirable childhood scenarios.”

“I lost both my parents too,” she protested.

“Yes, but you had them for how long? Long enough to create memories?”

“Isn’t that worse? I knew exactly what was missing.”

A shadow flickered over his face. “Trust me. Any kid who lives in an orphanage is acutely aware of what they don’t have.”

She sipped her coffee, their footsteps dropping with a synchronicity that shouldn’t have yet developed, and found herself wanting to learn more about her husband.

“What happened to your parents?” she asked.

“I believe my mother dropped me off at a hospital…in a shoebox.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his knuckles tightened around the paper coffee cup. “As for my father…who knows. I think he was a client.”

Marianna blinked. “Oh.”

“None of the sisters ever said it outright, but they implied she was, uh…a sex worker. And I guess a baby would cramp her style or stifle her business.” He let out a harsh bark of a laugh. “Who knows? Maybe she was a regular woman who got knocked up and decided she didn’t want me.”

Marianna looked down to her belly. She couldn’t imagine going through pregnancy and birth only to leave a helpless baby in a box.

“I guess I’m lucky she left me at a hospital,” he added. “Rather than in a ditch.”

The pain in his voice made her breath stall. No wonder the guy was so averse to relationships. “I’m glad she didn’t leave you in a ditch.”

He turned to her without breaking his gait, his dark eyes guarded. “Why would you be glad?”

“Because that would be horrible. I can’t even imagine someone leaving a baby like that.” The thought of it made her physically ill. Suddenly her coffee didn’t taste so good, and she pulled the cup away from her lips. “Everyone deserves a chance to make something of themselves, don’t you think?”

He nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell me to get an…” She let the unspoken word hang in the air. “Not that I would have agreed, but I thought you might ask.”

His face was expressionless, and while he wasn’t showing the emotion, it was absolutely there. It vibrated around him like a force field. “I would never ask for that.”

They’d reached the edge of the market, which had become even busier since they’d arrived. The market stalls were lined with people clamoring to get the attention of the vendors, the noise escalating as people chatted and bargained. From the outside, she and Nico probably looked like any other couple walking and talking over coffee.

But that was an illusion, wasn’t it? They would never be a regular couple. She might grow old alongside this man, but she wouldn’t grow old with him. Not unless something changed.

Now she understood what Nico had said earlier. She’d never been in a loving relationship, but she was acutely aware of what she was missing out on.

“Come on,” he said after a few silent heartbeats. “Let’s head to the beach.”

…

Nico’s reservations faded with the incredible view of the jewel-blue water and sandy rock formations ringing a pristine coastline as he drove them further up the island. The weather was perfect—warm but with a cool breeze. The water would be perfect, too, and he didn’t hesitate to strip off his T-shirt in preparation for a swim. It’d been too long since he’d come to this area.

“I thought we could go for a swim here,” he said, trying not to watch as Marianna fiddled with the zip at the side of her dress.

He stifled the urge to help her, knowing that where it led him last time was not somewhere he could go again. Each night as he’d gone to bed beside her, he’d reminded himself of Dion’s warning. For the sake of creating a happy house for their child, he could not afford to encourage any false expectations with Marianna. And that meant keeping his hands to himself.

“Then we can grab something to eat. There’s a little ice cream place close by, if that’s something you like,” he added.

“Do I like ice cream?” She chuckled. “Are there people who don’t like ice cream?”

He shrugged. “There are people who don’t like all kinds of things.”

Marianna pulled her dress down over her body. Beneath the breezy blue fabric was a bikini with blue and white stripes. Her breasts pressed together, held up by the halter top. Her curvy hips were encased in a pair of bottoms that came over her belly button in a way that reminded him of fifties Hollywood starlets. Compared to the skimpy string bikinis a lot of women wore on the Corfu beaches, Marianna’s bathing suit was quite modest.

But it suited her perfectly. And even if she was covered head-to-toe, she still would have been a knockout. Her long, dark hair swung in a braid down her back, the end of it skimming the top of her round bottom.

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