No—Hannah was his wife. She deserved to be part of this.
He went back toward the bed. “Hello, Father.”
“What happened, my son? Are the news reports to be believed?”
His father’s voice was loud enough for Hannah to hear even without the speakerphone. Her cheeks reddened but she lifted her chin. “You didn’t tell them,” she whispered.
Kyril’s father pressed further. “Are you both all right?”
The fire. The fire that had set off this frenzy. “We’re both—all three of us are perfectly healthy,” Kyril began. “I married Hannah in a private ceremony this week.” He laughed, his nerves getting the better of him. “Two ceremonies, in fact. We’re married. She’s my wife.”
“As the mother of your child, she should be.” Despite his father’s earlier enthusiasm, he sounded tired. “But Kyril, the nation can’t—”
“I know, Father. There will need to be some damage control.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Kyril saw Hannah flinch.
“To satisfy the traditionalists.”
Her face relaxed.
“Congratulations, Son.” Again, his father hesitated despite the warmth in his voice. “But you do know there will be no heading this off. We’ll all need to take it as it comes. The news must be confronted with our heads held high.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll pass along your confirmation to the family.”
“Thank you.”
“All my love, Son.”
“All mine.”
He ended the call.
Hannah fell back against the pillows, her hair a glorious blonde mess. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell them.”
Kyril couldn’t help himself. He ran his hands over her skin, the rises and falls of her curves calming him in a way no woman’s ever had. “Come outside with me.”
She sat up. “Outside?”
“To the pool.”
Hannah gave him a look but got up and followed. He had the awful, twisting sense that this was going to be their last moment of peace together before the storm in Al-Dashalid, and he wanted her to enjoy it.
On the private deck he slipped her underthings from her body, the smooth silk hitting the edge of the pool with a whisper. Then he took his own clothes off. Kyril lingered a moment, his hand on her belly, then led her into the pool. It was warm, and with the sun kissing their skin, it was heaven.
Hannah ducked under the water and resurfaced into the sunlight, every inch of her glowing and radiant. Kyril’s heart twisted. She’d been planning for more travel after Greece, and now that they’d had a honeymoon of sorts, he could see her getting more excited with each passing minute. Last night, before she’d fallen asleep, she’d curled her body into his. “What if we extended our trip? It could be a world-tour honeymoon.” Kyril had heard the smile in her voice.
“What are you thinking about?” Hannah ran her hands over her hair, causing a cascade of droplets to fall back into the pool. “You’re staring.”
“You,” he said simply, though it wasn’t entirely true. Kyril swam over to her, kissing her cheek before he swept her to the edge of the pool. From that vantage point, they could look across the marina and watch the world wake up.
“I want to keep traveling with you endlessly.” Hannah ran her fingers down his arm and squeezed his wrist. “But it won’t be possible, will it?”
He tried to burn the sight of her, hair wet, body lush and glowing, into his mind. She was trying to look stoic—he could see it in her face. It didn’t quite hide her disappointment.
“In a way…” Kyril ached to tell her what she wanted to hear. “In a way, we will always be traveling together. Our life will always be an adventure. And we will visit Santorini again. And anywhere else your heart desires.”