The soft sounds of Perry nursing filled the office for a few moments before Aris spoke again. “You know what amazes me most about this entire situation?”
“What?”
“You never once asked if any of it was true.” His voice carried a note of wonder. “Not even when I told you about our past relationship. You believed me.”
I shifted Perry onto my shoulder, patting his back gently to burp him. “Of course I believed you.”
He shook his head. “Most people, they would have wondered. Would have questioned whether there was some kernel of truth hidden in her accusations. But you didn’t hesitate for a second.”
“Because I know you.” I continued the gentle patting rhythm on Perry’s back. “I’ve watched how you handle business. How you treat people. The prenup you worked out for Tia against your own son’s interests tells me everything I need to know about you.” I met his eyes. “A man who abuses his power doesn’t ensure his daughter-in-law will be financially protected in case of divorce. You did that for her even before you knew she was my daughter.”
Aris took Perry from my arms. I buttoned my shirt while he resettled our son into the stroller and tucked the blanket around him. When he straightened, he reached for my hands, pulled me up from the chair, and drew me against his chest.
“I do not deserve you,” he whispered. “But I am selfish enough to keep you, yes.”
Aris always said he didn’t deserve me. But deserve had nothing to do with it.
He’d chosen me when choosing me was complicated, and I’d chosen him when choosing him was frightening. That was better than deserving. That was deliberate.
He pulled back to meet my eyes. “And I am ruthless enough to destroy anyone who tries to come between us. Phoibe, she is about to learn the difference between the man I am with the people I love and the man I become when someone threatens them.”
“Keep talking like that and you’re going to have a problem.” I glanced meaningfully at the sleeping babies, then back to him. “A problem we can’t solve for at least another three weeks.”
His hands tightened on my hips, pulling me flush against him so I could feel exactly what problem I’d created. “Feel this?” he murmured against my ear. “This is what you do to me every time you walk into a room.” He pressed a kiss just below my ear. “Three weeks feels like an eternity when all I want is to fuck you. But I will wait, agápi mou because you are worth waiting for.”
I was counting the days, already imagining what it would feel like when there was nothing between us — no pain, no stitches, no caution. Just him and me and the way he would make my body forget every hard thing it had ever been through.
“Kiss me,” I demanded. “Kiss me like you mean every word you just said.”
He kissed me thoroughly, taking his time despite the urgency thrumming between us. His hands cradled my face as if I were precious, even as his mouth moved over mine with clear hunger.
When his tongue slipped past my lips, I tasted the promise of what would come when I was healed, and nothing stood between us. I whimpered into his mouth, pressing closer despite the warning twinges from my body.
A sharp sounded at the door.
We didn’t break apart fast enough.
The door swung open and Santo walked in. “Father, we heard about—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes landing on us locked in our embrace. Tia hovered behind him in the doorway, eyes wide.
They had left for Asia two days after I gave birth. Santo had back-to-back races scheduled. Tia had video called every single day to see the babies, sometimes twice, but it would never be the same as having her here.
“The third time I’ve walked in on you two,” Santo said. “At some point, you need to start acting like adults with a modicum of self-control.”
“In our defense,” I said, “two of those three times were in our bedroom. You’re the one who keeps barging in.”
“The office is not your bedroom.” Santo moved further into the room. “And I knocked this time.”
Aris’s hand remained possessively at my waist. “You need to wait for an invitation to enter after knocking, yes?”
“Chrys, stop,” Tia said, stepping around him and closing the door behind them. “You’re being ridiculous. They’re married. They’re allowed to kiss.”
“Not every time I see them,” he grumbled.
Tia moved toward the stroller, kneeling beside it to peek at her sleeping siblings. When she looked up, her expression was one of concern. “We saw the news alerts as soon as we landed.” Her eyes found mine. “Mom, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I assured her, though I appreciated her concern. “We’re handling it.”
“Social media is on fire with speculation,” Santo added.
