Because with each moment that passed, it could be nothing tumbled through her brain, fighting against the soul-shaking need to be something. And each time he touched her, each time he introduced her as his wife and those stormy grey eyes swept over her, her heart yearned harder.
As the party wound down they gravitated back to Costas, who was holding court with a small group of guests. About to take a seat, she started in surprise when Christos pulled her into his lap. It took every ounce of composure not to stiffen or show her surprise. But she blushed at the few suggestive looks that came their way.
* * *
‘Relax,’ he commanded quietly, his hand planted possessively on her hip.
But she couldn’t relax. Besides the simple fact that she wanted nothing more than to melt into his arms, Alexis was also aware of Christos’s father’s frequent gaze, the regretful expression that lingered on his son when he thought no one was looking.
A nerve-shredding hour later, once a few more helicopters had taken off and overnight guests retired to their suites, she took the opportunity to make her escape. ‘I’m tired, I think I’m going to head up.’
She held her breath as Christos’s arm tightened momentarily before he released her. He got up and started to accompany her inside. ‘I’ll walk you in,’ he said smoothly, his hand capturing hers.
‘You don’t have to—’
‘Stop, Alexis. We’re past that,’ he interrupted.
She should’ve taken the hint. Instead, she paused on the first step of the sweeping staircase leading up to their wing, a different subject altogether tumbling from her lips. ‘What about your father? Are you past the right moment to talk to him too?’
His eyes turned arctic. ‘What?’
‘Are you going to avoid him forever? Or just wait until it’s too late to do anything about it?’
His eyes narrowed in warning. ‘Be careful, Alexis. You tread on dangerous ground.’
‘Do I?’ she dared, because that need wedged tight beneath her breastbone wouldn’t be silenced. The last hour had shown her the type of family she and Christos could have. The type she’d yearned for all her life. Sitting there, with the knowledge that their blind passion could have unexpected results, had only intensified that need. ‘I know what he did to you was painful, but I think he regrets it. You should give him a—’
She paused, catching movement behind Christos’s shoulder. A moment later, the man in question appeared.
Spotting him, Christos stiffened.
‘Christos, I really must talk to you,’ his father said, his voice ringed with authority she’d heard many times from his son.
Sensing he was about to refuse again, she spoke. ‘Go ahead, Christos. I need to call Sophie, anyway.’
He knew it was an excuse and his lips firmed. But before she could make her escape, he caught her hand, leaned in close and brushed his lips over her temple. ‘Enjoy your temporary reprieve,’ he murmured in her ear before pulling away.
He strode away briskly, not sparing his father a glance. But a minute later, she heard the study door open and shut. Only then did she run upstairs, her stomach muscles weak as jelly.
All through undressing and readying for bed, the jittery feeling continued. It was as she slid into bed, the luxury comforter enclosing her body, that she accepted the truth.
She was in love with Christos.
And against all the odds, against the self-preservation she’d sworn to keep in place after Adrian, she’d arrived in a situation that now promised to deliver the very thing she’d craved her whole life.
Beneath the covers, her hand slid over her stomach, a fresh shudder—this one of quiet awe—moving within her.
Pregnant.
She could be pregnant.
That thought beating an ever-increasing drumbeat inside her, Alexis expected to remain awake, her senses alert for Christos’s arrival.
* * *
Christos entered the study, impatience, anxiety and terror mingling in a toxic cocktail inside him. He’d thought himself immune to his father’s effect on him but the moment he turned to face him he knew he wasn’t. Perhaps he would never be. All the more reason to stay away from him. He started towards the door, cursing himself for listening to Alexis. ‘This was a mistake—’
‘Running away won’t resolve this, son.’