Christmas Baby For The Greek

“I came to give you this.” Pulling his hand out of his jacket pocket, he opened it. The red felt star she’d made him as a gift rested on his wide palm.

Looking down at it, she felt like crying. Why had he come all this way? To reject her homemade gift? To throw it callously in her face? “Do you really hate me so much?”

“Hate you?” Shaking his head ruefully, he lifted her chin gently with his hand. “Holly, you had no reason to love me. I made my position clear. I was scarred for life. I had no heart to give you. All I could offer was my name, my protection, my fortune. That should have been enough.”

Holly couldn’t move. She was mesmerized by his dark, molten eyes.

“But it wasn’t.” His lips curved at the edges. “Not for you, my beautiful, strong, fearless wife.” He ran the tips of his thumbs lightly along the edges of her cheekbones and jaw. “You wanted to love me, anyway,” he whispered. “Even if it cost you everything, heart and soul.”

Holly shuddered beneath his touch, unable to speak.

“And now...” Stavros paused, and to her shock she saw tears sparkling in his dark eyes, illuminated by the firelight and the lights of the Christmas tree. “There’s only one thing left to say.”

She held her breath.

His dark gaze fell to the tiny gold necklace at her throat. Taking her hand in his larger one, he pressed something into her palm. Looking down, she saw the red felt star.

“You’ve changed my stars,” he whispered.

She looked up. His handsome face was blurry from the tears in her eyes. She saw tears in his gaze that matched her own.

“I love you, Holly.” Stavros put his hand against her cheek. “So much. And when you and Freddie left me, it was like I’d lost the sun and

moon and Christmas, all at once.”

She searched his gaze. “You...” Licking her lips, she said uncertainly, “You love me?”

He gave a low, rueful laugh. “I think I loved you since last Christmas Eve, when I first saw you in that red dress, standing in the candlelight of the old stone church.”

With a snort, she shook her head. “You didn’t act like it...”

“I hid my feelings, even from myself. I was afraid.”

“You didn’t want to be a conqueror,” she murmured.

“I didn’t want to be conquered.”

“Conquered?” She choked out a laugh. “As if I could!”

He didn’t laugh. “When I met you, for the first time in my life, I wanted marriage, children. I thought it was just because I wanted a legacy. Because I believed I was dying. But it wasn’t.”

“It wasn’t?”

Stavros shook his head. “It was because of you. You made me feel things I’d never felt before. And after we slept together, I knew you could crush me if you chose.” He took a deep breath. “So I pushed you away. I was afraid of hurting you. But more. I was afraid you could destroy me.” Cupping her cheek, he looked down at her intently. “But I’m not afraid anymore.”

“You’re not?” she whispered.

“My heart is yours, Holly,” Stavros said humbly. “My heart, my life, are both in your hands.” His voice became low as he looked down at her hands, clasped in his own. “Can you ever love me again?”

For a moment, Holly stared at him.

Then her heart exploded, going supernova, big enough to light up the entire world. Gripping his hand, she led him to the tree and gave him the red felt star. “Put it on our tree.”

With an intake of breath, Stavros searched her face. What he saw there made joy lift to his eyes. Tenderly, he placed the homemade star on a branch of the fresh-cut tree. Reaching into her family’s Christmas box, she pulled out her mother’s garland of red felt stars, which she wrapped beside it, around the tree.

“Now,” she whispered, facing her husband with tears in her eyes, “it’s really Christmas.”

Love glowed from Stavros’s handsome face. Then his expression suddenly changed. His dark gaze lowered to her breasts.