Bought: The Greek's Baby

And she wasn’t the only one who seemed to like it. Her eyes flew open and she gasped, placing her hands on her gently swelling belly above the top edge of her bikini.

Had she felt…? Was that…?

“Good morning, koukla mou.”

She looked back to see Talos on the terrace. He was wearing only swim shorts, holding a tray with two glasses of sparkling water and two plates of sandwiches and fruit. She smiled at him, even though she wasn’t terribly hungry.

At least not for food.

Talos was so handsome, she thought, with his tanned, muscular chest, his strong forearms and thick legs laced with dark hair. She still didn’t quite understand the urgency that had brought them here from Athens, but he’d been so loving and charming, it had been impossible to refuse his need to take her home.

Since they’d arrived at the island that morning, he’d gone out of his way to make her comfortable here. Eve could hardly believe she was now the mistress of Mithridos, his lavish estate. The private Greek island off the coast of Turkey was accessible only by yacht, seaplane or helicopter. The many servants who ran the enormous white villa had already disappeared after having respectfully greeted her as Talos’s new bride.

Now, her husband came forward on the terrace, setting down the tray and kissing her softly on her cheeks. “Do you like it?”

As if there were any way she wouldn’t like it!

“It’s like a dream,” she said softly as he sat next to her on the lounge chair, his thighs warm against her legs. “It’s a fairy tale. I love it.”

“Good.” There was something beneath his black eyes, something she couldn’t quite read, that exceeded mere domestic satisfaction. He took a long-stemmed rose from the vase on the tray and stroked the soft petals against her sun-warmed skin. As she inhaled the sweet, heady fragrance, he said quietly, “I want you to be happy. I want to raise our children here.”

“Children?” She had the sudden image of making a permanent home here, creating a large, happy family, raising children with their father’s smile. “How many children?”

“Two?”

“Six?” she countered good-naturedly.

He looked down at her, his dark eyes smiling. “We can compromise. Three.”

“All right.” She leaned against him with a contented sigh. “I’m so happy here,” she confessed. “I never want to leave.”

He flashed her a grin. “Then we won’t.”

“Just what do you have in mind?” she teased. “A

honeymoon that never ends?”

He bent to kiss her lightly, tenderly on the lips. “Exactly.”

He went to the white granite table, removing the two lunch plates from the tray. He set them out with silverware and linen napkins. He brought the two glasses of sparkling water to the lounge chairs and handed one to her.

He held up his glass. “To the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Flushing with pleasure, she clinked the glass against his. “To the most wonderful man in the world,” she said softly. “Thank you for telling me the truth. Thank you for forgiving me. Thank you for putting it all behind us and bringing me home.”

His dark brows creased, and he looked away. Tilting his head back, he gulped his water down to the very last drop.

Well, it was rather delicious, she thought as she took a sip. Sparkling and refreshing—just like him. Her husband was indeed a long cool drink of clear water beneath the hot sun. She took another sip, her eyes tracing over her husband’s handsome physique.

Then she suddenly sat up straight in the lounge chair. With a delighted laugh, she put her hands on her belly. “I think I just felt the baby move!”

“You did?” He placed his hand on her belly over her translucent pink robe. He waited. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Maybe I was wrong,” she said uncertainly. “I’m new at this.” She frowned, straining to feel that little thrum that felt like music inside her, like champagne bubbles tickling within her belly. Then she did, and crowed with delight. “Did you feel that?”

“No.”

She pulled off the pink cover-up. Pressing his hand against her naked belly, she watched his face as he waited, visibly holding his breath. As if there was nothing more important to him in the world than being with her, than waiting to feel his child move inside her.