Page 23 of Reunited By the Greek's Baby

‘Thank you.’

Isla sipped it gingerly, not seeming to notice that spark of heat as their fingers touched.

One-track mind, Karalis. The woman’s ill.

But he wasn’t, which was why, despite his concern, he couldn’t help noticing that in splashing her face, she’d also splashed her oversized T-shirt. It clung to her skin, lovingly shaping the upper slope of one breast.

Hastily Theo looked away, only to find his attention dropping to her bare legs. The T-shirt preserved her modesty, just, but he had perfect recall of the body now barely covered by thin cotton. Heat saturated him.

‘Would you feel better sitting down?’

‘Where’s the coffee?’

‘You want some?’

‘Absolutely not!’ She shuddered. ‘The smell makes me nauseous.’

‘In that case it’s safe to sit in the kitchen. I took it outside. I wasn’t sure what part of what I brought upset you.’

So much for congratulating himself that she’d been able to enjoy the food he’d brought. He’d undone all the good he’d achieved.

Good one, Karalis!

‘Don’t look so glum,’ she said as she lowered herself slowly onto a kitchen chair. ‘You weren’t to know.’

But he could have guessed. It was logical that strong smells would disturb someone suffering from nausea. ‘What can you have?’

‘There are rice crackers in the biscuit tin.’

For the next five minutes Theo waited, leaning against the counter, watching as she nibbled slowly at a thin biscuit then stopped, frowning. After a long pause she took a careful sip of water. Then tried the biscuit again. Then another pause as if waiting to see if she could keep that down.

His mood darkened. If this was how Isla ate it was no wonder she was wasting away. Had last night just been a lucky coincidence? How did she manage to stay on her feet all day in the shop? Surely that drained her as much as the morning sickness?

By the time she was on her third cracker he’d had enough. He collected the food he’d put outside, leaving the cups.

Isla said nothing, just watched as he got out plates, one for the fruit and another for the pastries. The inviting scent of fresh baking filled his nostrils and he paused, shooting a look at Isla. She met his stare, raised her eyebrows and shrugged as if to say she didn’t know how she’d react either.

It felt, for a second, as if time reeled back on itself, to those days in Greece when spoken conversation wasn’t always necessary and they communicated without words. Their shared understanding had surprised Theo, as if they’d known each other years instead of mere weeks.

Whatever their apparent connection, those days were gone. He put the plates on the table and sat opposite Isla, watching for signs of returning nausea.

She seemed to wait too, as if unsure of her body’s reaction. Then she reached for a plump grape and popped one into her mouth.

A smile lit her face. ‘Yum. Thank you.’

Theo nodded but didn’t speak. Something about her abrupt transformation, from wan and unsure to beaming, thickened his throat. Because she was grateful for such a small favour as fresh fruit? Because every day, every meal, it seemed, was a battle?

How long had it been this bad? Who had she had to help her?

He kept his queries to himself while she ate a few more grapes, watching her hesitate then reach out again. ‘Raspberries! And they look freshly picked.’

Her gaze sought his as if wondering where he’d got such fresh produce out of season. Another reminder of their different worlds. For him money was no object. He guessed, his gaze scanning the small room, that for Isla, every penny mattered.

‘Did you drop your degree because you’re pregnant?’ It was a crime, her not continuing. Simon said she was one of the best junior archaeologists he’d seen.

Isla’s smile faded but she nodded. ‘I couldn’t study and have a baby. I needed to get a job.’

Theo’s jaw tightened. He could support her while she finished her degree, but things weren’t so simple. For a start, Isla would need other support, not just someone to pay her university fees.

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