What the Greek Can't Resist

He returned less than ten minutes later with a tray of food which he set on her lap. The simple ham and cucumber sandwich made her stomach rumble and she remembered she’d barely eaten a few mouthfuls of dinner before her attack.

‘I prepared it myself. Until I find you a personal chef who will be apprised of all your dietary requirements, I’ll prepare all your meals myself.’

Her mouth dropped open for several seconds before she managed to snap it shut. ‘Wait... What?’

He poured a glass of orange juice and handed it to her. ‘Which part needs explanation?’

‘The part...all of it. You don’t have to do this, Ari.’

‘Yes, I do. You’re carrying my child. I absolutely have to do this.’

Again, the depth of emotion behind the words made her eyes widen. But when she looked at him, his eyes were veiled and his face inscrutable.

‘Eat,’ he instructed.

In silence she ate because as much as she wanted to argue with him, probe behind his words, she was starving. And she needed to do everything in her power to keep her baby healthy and safe.

She forced herself to eat slowly this time. She accepted a second glass of orange juice. Once she’d drained it, Ari set the tray aside.

‘How do you feel?’ Again there was that concern in his voice. But, coupled with that, there was a thin vein of anxiety that made her heart skitter.

‘I’m fine. Right now I’m more interested in how you feel.’

He rose with the tray. ‘My feelings are irrelevant. Get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.’

She wanted to ask what exactly they would be talking about, but he was already leaving, his shoulders and back set in tense lines that made her nervousness rise higher.

Her hand slid down to rest on her abdomen.

Whatever it was, she could handle it. As long as it didn’t interfere with the welfare of her baby.

* * *

He was having a child.

Ari barely managed to set the tray down before it slid out of his useless grip.

Shaking from head to toe, he gripped the edge of the granite counter in the suite’s kitchen and tried to breathe.

He was having a child!

The self-indulgent need to rail at fate was so strong the growl bubbled up through his chest before he managed to swallow it down. He stalked to the living room and contented himself with a fiery shot of single malt Scotch. Except he was no better equipped to handle the bone-crushing fear gripping him. It writhed like a poisonous snake inside him before sinking its merciless fangs into his heart.

Was he doomed to fail at this task too, the way he’d failed Sofia? He’d single-handedly taken care of his brothers and his mother, had ensured they were protected as much as possible from the fallout of his father’s misdeeds.

And yet he hadn’t been able to save his wife.

Or his unborn child.

Was fate taunting him again? Willing him to fail again?

No!

His fist tightened around the glass and he set it aside before it shattered. This time things would be different. Because anything else was unthinkable.

He moved restlessly across the room, willing his pulse to slow, his insides to stop churning viciously with the acrid mix of guilt and fear.

He was going to be a father. His steps slowed and he stopped in front of the view. Funny, he’d stood here just two days ago thinking he was in control of his world. It had been in the moments before Perla burst in and accused him of controlling her life.

Now he barely felt in control of his.

Whirling round, he walked out of the living room and entered his study. It might be the middle of the night in Washington, but it was still a working day in London and the rest of Europe.

His first call was to the Pantelides headquarters in London, where he gathered all the pertinent information he needed. Next he placed a call to his lawyers in Greece. His dealings with them so far had been purely business so he wasn’t surprised at their thinly veiled shock as he outlined his wishes.

By the time he finished his calls, the horizon was lightening with the coming dawn.

Ari rubbed a hand across his jaw and rested his head against his seat.

He had no idea how Perla would take the conversation he intended to have with her come morning. There could potentially be many obstacles to getting his way but he intended to smash them all aside.

Because one thing had become clear in his mind from the second he’d found out Perla was carrying his child.

The welfare of his child was the most important thing in his life.

* * *

She was already up when he knocked on her door just after seven o’clock. Up, showered and dressed.