Page 32 of The Reason for His Wife's Return

MIRAARRIVEDATdinner two weeks later to find Aristos’s family gathered around the giant dining table. She could feel Aristos’s gaze running over her face with that intense scrutiny that made her skin tingle but she didn’t answer the overwhelming urge to look.

A lot had changed between them and yet, it felt like nothing had changed. He wasn’t operating out of a checklist anymore, but he wasn’t all there with her either. And if she was being truly honest with herself, his heart wasn’t with her. And like some mirage teasing her in the distance, the more he held it back from her, the more she wanted it.

She’d slept well into the morning that day blissfully unaware that whatever she’d said in the limo after her climax had set them back to square one. God, she’d been exhausted, and buzzed from the orgasm, and she couldn’t even remember what she’d asked of him.

And his displeasure at whatever she’d said had diluted their physical intimacy too.

Had she admitted that she wanted more than he was giving her? Or that she was falling for him, all over again? Was he finally realizing what this pregnancy and the changes meant and was feeling trapped?

She was about to make an excuse that she was too tired when Aristos reached her, his gaze searching. “If you’re too tired for this, just say so, Mira.” His chin notched onto her shoulder, and his body beckoned her with its warmth. “We will reschedule.”

Over her shoulder, she studied his face. “No. I’m fine.”

He pulled her chair out, and then walked around to the opposite side.

While it wasn’t all of Leo’s daughters and his grandchildren and various cousins around the table—Aristos’s mom had been the youngest of six and the only one who’d given birth to a boy—her least favorite aunt and her least favorite cousin of his were seated across from Leo at the other end of the table.

Tia Camilla and her stepson Kairos.

Thank God, her favorite of his aunts was also present—Stella’s mom, Sophia.

Mira forced a smile as Stella hugged her with one arm. Her skin crawled at the idea of Kairos next to her but she swallowed her dislike of him somehow.

Conversation flew around her in Greek and for once, Mira didn’t mind at all. She was ravenous as always. And though she didn’t enjoy the food as much as she usually did, she forced herself to eat, her thoughts in a jumbled whirl.

She’d known Kairos from the first time her grandfather had brought her to Greece to meet Leo when she’d been six. It had been common knowledge even then that Leo had been grooming Kairos to be his heir.

Even as a girl, Mira had never liked Kairos that much. The man was full of himself—all shiny surface with no substance beneath.

Aristos, even wild and near-feral, and extremely prickly as he was when they’d first met, had been the exact opposite of the smarmy Kairos—full of ambition and energy, bursting with a strength of character that had fascinated her from day one.

And of course, everything had changed for Kairos the moment Leo had discovered that his youngest daughter had borne a son—the very daughter he’d adored but thrown out when she’d defied his will and ran away with a man he had refused to give a blessing to.

To give Leo credit, he hadn’t immediately shunted Kairos to the side. But his secret gambling debts coupled with Aristos’s incisive intelligence had made the latter a clear winner in a race no one had entered except Kairos and his insecurities.

Even now, as she watched him beam a fake smile at her, Mira struggled to keep her own straight.

Seeing him brought the episode of their engagement and the entire debacle that had happened the following night into sharp focus. Not that it was ever far from Mira’s mind. Especially now when she and Aristos had gotten together again. Especially when she was coming to truly know him more and more.

She’d seen the gleam of lust in Kairos’s eyes even as a teenager who’d barely understood her own body. She’d seen his jealousy of Aristos as he toppled every one of Leo’s expectations. And yet that night when everything had fallen apart, Kairos had been her friend.

And she knew now that something was innately wrong with that very picture in her head. There was no way she could ask Kairos about that night, not without betraying her own doubts and the state of her marriage to him.

And Aristos... Asking Aristos about it would destroy every bit of their relationship all over again. God, she couldn’t take that risk. Not today. Not ever.

“Mira and I are expecting. Twins.”

The quiet announcement by Aristos at the dining table, full of pride and something else she couldn’t make out, landed with the impact of a meteor. At his command, the staff brought out a couple of bottles of iced champagne. Leo’s congratulations and Stella’s whoops surrounded them as champagne was poured into flutes and passed along. But of course, they’d both known that something was up—thanks to the team of people Aristos had going in and out of the estate.

But this was their first official announcement and she didn’t begrudge him the moment. She’d shared the news with her own sisters almost a week ago over a video call. They’d screamed so loud that Mira had to slap her hands over her ears.

Mira dipped her head in a nod when Stella’s mom expressed her congratulations in that quiet way of hers. She didn’t speak English but the genuine affection in her voice was enough for Mira. Especially since her nephew didn’t even meet her eyes. Aristos had avoided his aunts for as long as Mira could remember.

Tia Camilla and Kairos though... Mira wished she could keep her gaze straight ahead and yet, the cold silence from their end of the table made it impossible not to look.

His mouth set into a stiff line, his beady eyes flinty with anger, Kairos let out a low peal of laughter. A sudden hush fell over the table.

“Kairos! This is good news for our family,” Leo said, an inherent warning in his tone. But Aristos’s cousin had already imbibed too much alcohol and he didn’t have control over his tongue at the best of times. He rose from the seat, and Mira drew in a relieved breath.

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