The Pregnant Kavakos Bride

There was another silence and the haunted expression on his face tore at Keeley’s heartstrings for she saw her own fears and insecurities reflected there. It made her want to go to him and hug him tightly—to offer him her strength and to feel his. But she said nothing. Nothing which would break the spell or the hope that he might just reveal what was hidden in his heart, instead of trying to blot it out and hide it away, the way he normally did. Because that was the only way they could go forward, she realised. If they both were honest enough to let the truth shine through.

‘I didn’t want to let you close because I sensed danger—the kind of danger I didn’t know how to handle,’ he said at last. ‘I’d spent years perfecting an emotional control which enabled me to pick up the pieces and care for Pavlos when our mother left. A control which kept the world at a safe distance. A control which enabled me to keep all the balls spinning in the air. I was so busy protecting my brother and safeguarding his future, that I didn’t have time for anything else. I didn’t want anything else. And then I met you and suddenly everything changed. You started to get close. You drew me in, no matter how hard I tried to fight against it, and I recognised that you had the power to hurt me, Keeley.’

‘But I don’t want to hurt you, Ariston,’ she said. ‘I am not your mother and you can’t judge all women by her standards. I want to be there for you—in every way. Won’t you let me do that?’

‘I don’t think I have a choice,’ he admitted huskily. ‘Because my life has been hell without you. My apartment and my life are empty when you aren’t in them, Keeley. Because you speak the truth to me in a way which is sometimes painful to hear—but out of that pain has grown the certainty that I love you. That perhaps I’ve always loved you—and I want to go on loving you for the rest of my life.’

And suddenly she could hold out no longer and crossed the room as quickly as her pregnant shape would allow. She went straight into his arms and at last he was holding her tightly and she closed her eyes against the sudden prick of tears.

‘Keeley,’ he whispered, his mouth pressed hard against her cheek. ‘Oh, Keeley. I’ve been dishonest with myself—right from the start. I felt the thunderbolt the first time I set eyes on you and I’d never felt that way about a woman before. I told myself you were too young—way too young—but then I kissed you and you blew my world apart.’ He pulled away and stroked an unsteady finger over her trembling lips. ‘It was easier to convince myself that I despised you. To tell myself you were cut from the same cloth as your mother, and that I only wanted sex with you to extinguish the burning hunger inside of me. But you just kept igniting the flames. When you became pregnant—a part of me was exultant. I couldn’t decide if it was destiny or fate I needed to thank for a reason to stay close to you. But then came the reality. And the way you made me feel was bigger than anything I’ve ever felt before. It felt...’

‘Scary,’ she finished, pulling back a little so that she could gaze deep into his eyes. ‘I know. Scary for me, too. Because love is precious and rare and most of us don’t know how to handle it, especially when we’ve grown up without it. But we’re bright people, Ariston. We both know what we don’t want—broken homes and lost children and bitter wounds which can never be completely healed. I just want to love you and our baby and to create a happy family life. Don’t you want that too?’

Briefly, Ariston closed his eyes and when he opened them she was still there, just as she always would be. Because some things you just knew, if only you would let your defences down long enough for instinct to take over. And instinct told him that Keeley Kavakos would always love him, though maybe not quite as much as he loved her.

He pulled her closer, his breath warm against her skin. ‘Can we please go to bed so we can plan our future?’ he questioned urgently.

‘Oh, Ariston.’ She rose on tiptoe to wind her arms around his neck, and he could hear the relief which tinged her breathless sigh. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

EPILOGUE

‘SO, HOW ARE you feeling, my clever and very beautiful wife?’

Keeley lifted her gaze from the tiny black head which was cradled against her breast, to find the bright blue eyes of her husband trained on her.

How was she feeling? Tough question. How could words possibly convey the million sentiments which had rushed through her during a long labour, and which had ended just an hour ago with the birth of their son? Joy, contentment and disbelief were all there, that was for sure—along with a savage determination that she would love and protect their new baby with every fibre of her being. Baby Timon. Timon Pavlos Kavakos. She smiled as she traced a feather-light fingertip over his perfect, olive-skinned cheek.

‘I feel like the luckiest woman in the world,’ she said simply.

Ariston nodded. He didn’t want to contradict her at such a time, but if luck was being handed out—then surely he was its biggest recipient? Watching Keeley go through labour had been something which had taught him the true meaning of powerlessness and silently he had cursed that he was unable to bear or share her pain with her. Yet hadn’t it been yet another demonstration of his wife’s formidable strength—to watch her cope so beautifully with each increasing contraction? A wife who was planning to join him in the family business, just as soon as the time was right. He remembered her reaction when he’d first put the idea to her and his tender smile in response to her disbelieving joy. But why wouldn’t he want his capable and very able wife working beside him, with hours which would suit her and their son? Why wouldn’t he want to enjoy her company as much as possible, especially since her command of Greek was getting better by the day?

But she’d told him that these days she studied his language with a passion born from wanting to fit in and not because she was terrified of being left out. Because she was determined to speak the same language as their child. And because family was more important than anything else. A fact which had been drummed home by the sudden death of her mother, a death which in truth had filled Keeley with a sad kind of gratitude, because Vivienne Turner was at peace at last. And it had focussed their minds on the things which mattered. They had decided to make their home on Lasia—on that exquisite paradise of a place, with its green mountains and sapphire sea and skies which

were endlessly blue.

Ariston thought how beautiful she looked lying there, still a little pale and exhausted after her long labour, her blonde hair lying damply against her cheeks as she smiled up at him trustingly. ‘Would you like to hold your son now?’ she whispered.

A lump instantly constricted his throat. It was what he’d been waiting for. In fact, it felt as if he’d been waiting for this moment all his life. A little gingerly at first, Ariston took the sleeping bundle from her, and as he bent to kiss the baby’s jet-black hair a fierce wave of love rushed over him. He was used to holding babies because he used to hold Pavlos most of the time—but this felt different. Very different. This child was his flesh. And Keeley’s. Timon. The pounding of his heart was almost deafening and the lump in his throat was making speech difficult, but somehow he got the words out as he looked into the tear-filled eyes of his wife.

‘Efkaristo,’ he said softly.

‘Thanks for what?’ she questioned shakily as he put his free arm tightly around her shoulders and drew her close.

‘For my son, for your love—and for giving me a life beyond my wildest dreams. How about that for starters, koukla mou?’

She was trying to blink them away but the tears of joy just kept rolling down her cheeks and Ariston smiled as he kissed each one away, while their son slept contentedly in his arms.

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