He shook his head.
‘I don’t want Daniel to experience what I did, but already I know he won’t. Because he has you and you love him. I just can’t promise to...to give him something I never experienced myself.’
Maggie took this in and tried to ignore the ache near her heart at the thought of Nikos as a lonely child. ‘But I know you felt something powerful just now when you held him. I saw it.’
‘I realised how vulnerable he is. And how much I want to protect him.’
Nikos looked tortured. A million miles from the careless charming playboy she’d first met. She wanted to tell him that wanting to protect his son was a form of love, but knew it would sound like a platitude.
‘Okay,’ she said after a moment.
‘Okay?’
She made a little shrugging motion. ‘That’s good enough.’
Was it good enough, though?
Nikos said, ‘I’m committed to making this relationship work for the sake of our son.’
Committed. In a way, Maggie couldn’t fault Nikos. He was already offering more than her father had ever offered her. And she had seen powerful emotion affect him just now, so it was surely only a matter of time before he realised that what he felt for his son was love. Even if he didn’t think he wasn’t capable of it.
To her shame, she felt a dart of something like envy. For her own son. Because he’d sparked something in Nikos that would flower to life. It couldn’t not. But as for her...? Why was she even thinking of herself in this equation? She didn’t even—
Her thoughts stopped there.
The problem was that she did have feelings for him. She’d had them since that night a year ago, when his note the next day had been like a punch to the gut. And then each day of a whole year had followed and he hadn’t made contact—a further punch to the gut. Even knowing now that it hadn’t been his fault, because he’d never got the note, it didn’t diminish the hurt. Because he wouldn’t have contacted her anyway.
Maggie knew she needed to cut off all these nascent tender feelings she had for Nikos, because he’d told her more than once that he just wasn’t capable of returning them. He never would have offered her a relationship if it hadn’t been for Daniel. The fact that he might come to love his son would have to be enough for her.
She said, ‘I’m committed too.’ But the words tasted tart on her tongue.
Nikos moved closer and sneaked a hand around the back of her neck. Her traitorous heart leapt, along with her pulse.
‘I think we have a lot going for us, Maggie. I like you, and I want to be a good father for Daniel. We have insane chemistry. We want each other. We’re going into this with eyes wide open—no illusions. That’s as good a foundation for marriage as any I know.’
I like you.
Maggie longed to be able to pull back and tell Nikos that liking wasn’t good enough. But this wasn’t about her. And she was afraid that he would touch her again and see how close to the surface her emotions were.
She reached for his hand and pulled it down. ‘I think I’ll go and get Daniel settled in our new rooms.’
Nikos looked at her as if he was trying to figure her out. Then he took a step back. He glanced at his watch. ‘I should go to the office to catch up on some work and clear my schedule before the wedding. Help yourself to dinner and make a list of things you need for Daniel. I’ll make sure you get everything you need.’
Maggie watched Nikos walk out and exhaled once she was alone again. Her body was still over-sensitised and her heart was still bruised. As if on cue, to remind her of what was at stake here, Daniel made a sound, and she went in to find him awake. He regarded her with those steady dark eyes. Dark eyes with hazel flecks...
She pushed everything else out of her mind and tended to her son, telling herself that she and Daniel had a lot to be thankful for. Nikos might have proved to be just like her father, uncaring and uninterested. The fact that he wasn’t should be a relief. To want anything more—like love and a real family—was just being greedy.
The next day Maggie stood in front of a full-length mirror, but the woman reflected back at her was a stranger. It was her—but not her. She was tall and svelte, with sleek wavy hair twisted up into an elegant chignon. She’d never thought her hair could behave like that, but the hairdresser in the hotel salon had cultivated it into something far less wild.
And she’d had a pedicure and manicure.
But the dress...
Maggie had never worn a long dress before. Not even for her end-of-school dance. Because she hadn’t gone as she’d had no date. None of the boys had wanted to ask ‘Beanpole Maggie’ as they’d have looked small next to her.
The dress was black and off the shoulder, with little dropped sleeves that rested on her arms. Maggie had tried pulling them up but the stylist had said, ‘Non, non, cherie—they’re meant to be like that.’
A sweetheart neckline showed more skin than Maggie had ever shown before. The tops of her breasts swelled against the bodice in a way that felt indecent. The material clung to her breasts, her belly, waist and hips, before falling to the floor in a swathe of material. When she moved a slit up one side revealed her leg.