Page 33 of Reunited By the Greek's Baby

Theo had suggested she fly with him tonight after taking a phone call during lunch. He’d looked at the number then apologised and excused himself. He’d returned looking sombre and saying he was needed urgently in Athens.

His observation that flying back with him would be easier than making her own way to Greece later was nothing but the truth. Flying privately was quicker and simpler than commercial travel. Plus he’d reassured her that he could have her back in London in time for her next doctor’s appointment.

He’d even offered to pay her rent for the period she was away, since she wouldn’t be earning. Before she could object, he’d added that she’d be doing him a favour in visiting Greece, allowing them to talk face to face and reach some decisions. The alternative was a series of long-distance calls, because the business crisis he had to deal with in Greece would take time to sort out.

Put like that, his suggestion seemed almost reasonable. Two mature adults determining how to raise their baby.

Still Isla had refused. She didn’t like acting on the spur of the moment and she couldn’t let Rebecca down.

But when he’d suggested she call her boss to ask about leave, Rebecca had been enthusiastic. Isla knew she’d been worried about her health, but not how much. Her boss had been adamant she take this break, overriding Isla’s protests with assurances the replacement worker who’d done a trial that afternoon was excellent.

Isla had rung off feeling that Rebecca would shoo her out the door if she dared front up for work tomorrow.

Even then she might not have agreed, hating this feeling she was being herded in a direction she didn’t want to go. Except who could resist the idea of a short break in Greece? Not to work but to rest and relax. Her weary body and even more exhausted brain couldn’t withstand that temptation. She put it down to temporary insanity.

So here she was, looking out at the floodlit Parthenon below, the glittering blanket of city lights and beyond that the black velvet of the sea. A shiver kissed her skin. Excitement or warning?

‘Maybe it’s been too much of a rush.’ Theo’s voice sounded reflective as if he only just noticed how stressful today had been. ‘You’ll feel better in the morning. You can sleep in and spend the day relaxing.’

Isla would love to think so, but if she and Theo were under the same roof, she suspected it would be hard to relax. She squeezed her eyes shut.

What had she been thinking, coming here?

Panic welled. That was the problem. She hadn’t been thinking, not clearly. It was madness to come here with Theo while her heart was still so bruised.

A warm hand covered hers on the armrest. A hand that was large and capable and shockingly familiar. Gently Theo squeezed and that too tugged the cord of memory in her soul.

‘It will be okay, Isla.’

The velvet rumble of his voice caressed her and she swallowed convulsively, hating how badly she wanted to believe him. Was coming here one huge mistake?

‘Of course. I’m just tired.’

She opened her eyes and summoned a bright smile that she guessed didn’t fool him, for he frowned, the scar at his temple crinkling. He was concerned and every instinct told her he wasn’t shamming.

Theo really was worried about her.

More likely worried about his child.

That shattered the moment of tender promise and just as well. Isla couldn’t afford to be taken in by his plausible act of concern.

Earlier today he’d said he cared for her. Despite her hard-won defences, hope had shimmered brightly. For a moment she’d imagined his rejection had been a colossal mistake, until she realised she’d misunderstood.

He cared for her in a general, impersonal sense, as the vessel carrying his baby. He hadn’t bothered to ask what she felt for him, whether she still cared for him.

His interest began and ended with the baby. His proposal wasn’t aboutthem. It was window dressing to cement access to the child.

Isla breathed through arrowing pain and drew her hand away.

Everywhere she turned that truth battered her. It was time she accepted it. She summoned another, brief smile. ‘How long till we reach your place?’

Three weeks into Isla’s stay in Theo’s penthouse her hopes of guarding her heart against him were in tatters.

Instead of haranguing her about marriage he’d left her in peace, reiterating that she needed rest.

They ate breakfast together and when he returned from the office in the evenings, shared dinner in the smaller dining room. To Isla’s surprise those meals were companionable, almost as if they’d re-established their lost camaraderie. Probably because they kept to uncontentious topics.

Given how Theo had opened up to her about his family, Isla found herself more in charity with him. Plus his obvious love for them tugged at her heart. It sounded like they were close.

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