The Greek's Christmas Baby

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I have spent every day since waking from my coma trying to find flaws in you that are not there. All I have found is a woman I was smart to make my own and then marry."

His wording was odd, but then she realized with his primal view of sex, he probably considered her his from the moment they became lovers.

"I will not change my mind about you."

She hoped he was right because her heart would shrivel up and die if their marriage went back to being what it had been. It was an incredible thought considering how much she had wanted that very thing only twenty-four hours ago, but the kind of relationship he seemed to be offering now was everything her dreams were made of.

But if he was right and there was a chance he wasn't going to regain his memory, shouldn't she tell him about the baby? She knew she couldn't. And secretly she didn't want to. She wanted to know this time that he was staying with her for her own sake. She needed that assurance.

Besides, this time she doubted he would be as delighted with her pregnancy as he had been the first time. She was fairly certain he would not consider a year and a half proper spacing.

On the other hand, could she hold him accountable for a throwaway remark made with no knowledge of his impending second time at fatherhood? He loved being a daddy and she doubted even his image of the perfectly spaced family could diminish his enthusiasm for the role a second time around.

She hoped.

Regardless, it was simply something she refused to bring into the equation of their marriage right now.

When the roses Aristide had ordered were delivered to their table, Eden gasped and then gaped when she saw the jeweler's box nestled in the center of the arrangement.

"Open it," he instructed.

Her hand trembled as she lifted the small black velvet box from the foliage and it was all he could do not to pull her around the table and into his arms. She was so damned vulnerable. Had he realized that before, or had she been better at hiding it?

She snapped the ring box open and gasped again, the sound almost a sob. "It's beautiful."

He had the anniversary ring delivered earlier that day while she'd been out shopping and then sent it to the florist to include in the bouquet.

He did not know what he had originally planned to give Eden to celebrate the anniversary of when they first met. He had searched through his diary to no avail. Kassandra probably knew, but he did not trust her to tell him the truth about it. More likely she would have encouraged him to get something that would cause Eden further pain or some level of embarrassment.

He did not know what caused a woman he had trusted as close as family to turn on his wife, but he was convinced Eden had not provoked it.

"Does it fit?" The jeweler had taken a guess based on the size of her ring finger.

She slipped the diamond anniversary band on and nodded, her lips quivering suspiciously.

"Do not start crying again."

"It comes with the territory right now."

He supposed she meant living through the trauma of being forgotten by her husband, but those were happy tears if he'd ever seen any.

She stretched her hand out to admire the ring, her rainwater eyes glistening. "It's really gorgeous."

"Not half as gorgeous as the woman wearing it, yineka mou."

Her gaze flew to his and something hit him straight in the gut. She had said he didn't need to court her again… that they were already married, but he realized he wanted to court her. He wanted her to feel good about being married to him, not stuck with a man who could not remember the first time they had met, much less made love.

His pride demanded it, but so did something powerful in the region of his heart.

Aristide pulled Eden into his arms to dance with a strong feeling of relief. He had wanted to hold her since looking across the table and seeing the vulnerable expression in her lovely gray eyes.

They had talked throughout dinner and she had shown a surprising understanding of business. She'd explained that she had worked for her father, an American business tycoon, before moving away from New York City to pursue her real loves…art and history. Apparently, she had been an assistant curator for a small museum in upstate New York when they met.

The job fit her and he wondered if she missed it, but when he asked her, she said she really loved full-time motherhood and her volunteer work with an Athens-based museum society fed her interest.

The more he learned of her, the more he realized his wife was a very special and precious woman.

Not to mention sexy. She felt so good against him—too good—and his body had a predictable response he made no effort to hide from her.

"We'd better stay out here a long time if you don't want to be embarrassed exiting the dance floor," she teased in a husky voice against his chest.

Instead of pulling away, as he'd half-expected from his rather shy wife, she snuggled up against him.

The feel of her soft stomach pressing against his hard flesh tormented him and increased his arousal tenfold. "We may not make it off the dance floor at all if you keep that up."

Her husky laughter sent jolts of pleasure zinging through him and it took all his self-control not to carry her off the dance floor and to some private spot to make love. This woman could seduce him with a look. Was the knowledge of that power what had made him hold himself apart from her?

It had certainly contributed to his wariness since the accident. It could very well be the source of the sense of foreboding he had had surrounding his marriage. Considering his family's past, it made sense that he would find it hard to trust a woman who could wield that kind of power over him.

However, he did not see keeping her at a distance the safe course of action now.

It was patently clear to him that he had been on the verge of losing her when he lost his memory…at the very least, their marriage had been in some real trouble. He'd handled a lot of things badly since coming out of his coma, but he could and would fix them.

Eden's body sang with desire as Aristide carried her into their bedroom and kicked the door shut. He turned to lock it, ensuring their privacy. He had insisted on carrying her from the car because he said he could not remember carrying her over the threshold and wanted that memory now.

How could she turn down such a romantic request, even if she wanted to? And she hadn't.

She had always loved being carried by him and if he could remember, he would know that he had made a habit of it.

But tonight it was even more special. He'd been the epitome of a romantic escort all evening—wining and dining her, and dancing with her in a way that was guaranteed to seduce her senses. There was no doubt he was intent on completing the seduction now and all she wanted to do was let him.

She still didn't quite trust him, but she loved this side to him and wanted to enjoy the benefits while it lasted. Heck, she loved him period and doubted that would ever change. She would grasp the moments of happiness as they came and worry about the future…well…in the future.

And if he really did get rid of Kassandra, maybe that future had a chance of being something truly wonderful.

Eden focused on the pleasure of her husband's mouth claiming hers.

He broke the kiss with a masculine groan of pleasure. "You taste so good, agape mou."

He licked her lips, teasing along the seam with the tip of his clever tongue and applying gentle pressure for her to open up. She let her lips part, inviting him inside with a small foray of advance and retreat. He took the invitation, sliding his tongue along hers, possessing the interior of her mouth with tender mastery.

She ran her hands over his shoulders and chest and face, everywhere she could touch, imprinting the warmth of his body on her senses. He felt and smelled so good… so masculine…so much her husband…her mate. Craving bare skin, she started undoing buttons so she could get her hand inside his shirt.

They both moaned when her hand came into contact with his hair-roughened chest. He was so strong, his muscles so hard they felt like velvet-covered steel under her hand. She found his nipple and circled it with her forefinger, over and over again, until it was hard. She pressed the small nub between her thumb and forefinger, that special spot between her legs growing moist and throbbing when he groaned into her mouth and tightened his hold on her almost bruisingly.

She needed to feel the entire expanse of his naked chest. She attacked his jacket, maneuvering it off, one arm at a time. It was hard to do without breaking their kiss, but she managed it, her legs swinging down and locking around his waist when he let them go so she could finish removing his jacket. The tie came off with relative ease, but his shirt had to be untucked from his slacks. She got it out, unbuttoning the last few buttons, and pushed the garment off his broad shoulders.

When she had him undressed from the waist up, she went back to exploring his torso, this time her questing fingers making his big body shudder as he moaned out his pleasure.

She wanted naked skin against naked skin, but couldn't stop touching him long enough to get her own clothes off.