From One Night to Wife

She reached out for him again and he resisted the urge to draw back, strangely wanting to feel the heat of her touch.

‘I am having this baby, Nikos. With or without you.’

He snapped back his arm, suddenly not wanting to be touched by her after all, not wanting the hot sizzle that sparked through him to take over.

That was one thing he had to control: he couldn’t desire her.

* * *

Serena’s heart sank as he pulled away from her. He hated her touch, and the anger in his eyes worried her. Whatever else had gone before, and whatever was to come, they had created a new life together. They had to find a way to give their baby the best. Which meant agreeing on how that was to be done.

Images unwittingly filled her mind. Nikos at her side as she held a baby, its hair as dark as his and with the same deep blue eyes looking up at her.

The image of happiness ripped her heart in two. That kind of happy-ever-after was what she’d wished for herself as a child. She’d wanted nothing more than for her parents to be happy together, and most of all she wished they’d wanted her, their youngest child. Instead she’d had to face the reality that she’d been a sudden and unexpected addition to the family—one that had put pressure on the cracks that had already been showing between her parents.

‘Where do you propose the baby grows up?’ Nikos moved closer, his barely concealed annoyance clearly evident.

‘With me.’ Desperation echoed in every word and she saw him inhale deeply, holding on to the anger her words had provoked.

‘In England?’

The syllables of his words were broken, the sound staccato and harsh. She swallowed as she looked at him— anything else would show a weakness, one he’d exploit fully.

‘Yes.’

Serena thought of all the heartache her sister had endured, the number of times she’d hoped for a baby and the number of times her dreams had come crashing down. She had indeed discussed it with Nikos, and couldn’t believe he was now using it against her.

It was a really cruel twist of fate that it was her who’d fallen pregnant—and from just one night of unprotected sex. But it had been more than that—for her at least. That last evening on the secluded beach they’d walked hand in hand as the sun had set and shared a gentle kiss. It had rekindled the fire of passion they’d experienced in her small hotel room.

She reminded herself that from the outset Nikos had made it clear he didn’t consider theirs a lasting romance, but one that would end when she went home. She’d gone along with the idea, feeling secure in the knowledge that she could walk away, that it didn’t have to be more. But she’d fallen hopelessly in love with Nikos.

That night, as they’d reached the seclusion of the edge of the beach, surrounded by rocks and caves, he’d kissed her so passionately they hadn’t been able to stop. The urgency of their desire had forced them down onto the cool sand, but nothing had prepared her for his reaction afterwards—those cold words of dismissal, the demand that he should know if ‘consequences’ resulted. Well, they had.

‘So you would see our child grow up, hear its first words, watch its first steps, while I would be relegated to the background, lucky to catch a glimpse of it before it becomes a teenager?’

His voice brought her rapidly back to the present, and she swallowed down the lump in her throat as tears once again threatened.

The accusation in his tone speared her conscience and she wondered, not for the first time, if she really could do this alone. She’d thought his harsh words on the beach, after they’d made love in such an explosive and spontaneous way, had left her with little choice. He’d as good as told her he had no wish to be a father—that the very idea was abhorrent to him.

‘Don’t try and make it sound like you want this baby, Nikos.’ She almost hissed the words at him. ‘Not when you told me so coldly that you wanted to know of any “consequences.”’

‘Being a father is not something I had planned.’

He moved away from her, raking his long tanned fingers through his hair, and she sensed his frustration with every nerve in her body.

‘Which is why I will return to England and bring up our baby alone.’

She seized on his declaration before he could say anything else, but thoughts of telling her sister almost choked her. How could she tell a woman who wanted a child so desperately that she had made a mistake? That she now had that most desired thing? How could she destroy her sister like that?