Her glare lessened. ‘Really?’
Was it the sun or were her eyes always this luminous, this incredibly breathtaking?‘Ne,’he confirmed a little gruffly.
She grew contemplative far too quickly. ‘I don’t want to leave Agnes for endless days.’
He ignored the chafing in his chest. ‘Then we’ll remain in Europe for the time being,’ he assured her. ‘Start the tour in southern Italy, then go to Apeiron.’
‘I’ve never heard of that.’
‘Very few people have because it’s my private island in Greece. We can start from there instead of Italy, if you wish.’
It wasn’t his imagination that caught a glitter of pleasure in her eyes because something flipped in his belly. And when the look evaporated he was struck with a fervent need to regain it.
‘What does “Apeiron” mean?’
‘Several things in Greek, but for my purposes it means “infinite”.’
The glitter slowly returned, weaker than before but there. ‘Because you believe your mightiness is infinite?’
Was she teasing him? The belly-flip recurred. ‘Exactly so.’
He caught the twitch at the corner of her plump lips just before she turned away to shower attention on their son. He told himself he wasn’t jealous; that he was perfectly content just to watch their interaction; enjoyed how naturally she doted on him and saw to his every need. How…good she was with him.
But all the while Nelios was stingingly aware of the hunger prowling within him, seeking satiation. Of the voice repeating yet again, asking himself why the hell he’d agreed to that stupid,stupidcelibacy clause.
Vayle hated herself for missing Nelios even before he had walked away after devouring his breakfast, with a request she be ready to leave by lunchtime. More so for the giddiness that took hold of her entire being, making her feel as if she was permanently plugged into a low-voltage current. Even when Agnes joined them to play with Angelos before the arranged driver took her back home, Vayle could barely concentrate on their conversation.
‘You’ll love Greece.’ The usual sadness tinged her words as Vayle kissed her goodbye.
Vayle finally forced herself to focus. ‘Will you be okay?’
Agnes nodded, her gaze drifting over Vayle’s shoulder, no doubt looking for the son who was resolutely ignoring her. ‘Things aren’t going as quickly as I’d like but… I have hope.’
A lump rose in her throat and she embraced Agnes. ‘I’ll call as soon as I can.’
Agnes shook her head. ‘Don’t hurry. This is a new beginning for you. And I have a feeling my son needs you more than he’s willing to let on. Take your time; treasure this new life you’re beginning.’
Vayle shook her head, clenching her belly against the acute yearning that struck her. ‘It’s not like that, Agnes. You know why we married. It’s just for Angelos’s sake.’ She peered deeper into Agnes’s eyes, hoping to see understanding, perhaps even an agreement that it was truly unwise to build hopes on a marriage of convenience.
But Agnes gave a small but confident smile. ‘Don’t assume a door is locked before you’ve turned the handle,agapolou.’
The words echoed in her head long after they’d boarded a helicopter to the very airport where she’d breached security to stow away on Nelios’s jet.
And if the crew, which included Capaldi but was minus Andreas, was stunned to see her board with a baby in tow, they kept it well hidden. In fact, they seemed to forget her existence just as quickly, their attention fully absorbed by Angelos, now learning to smile and collecting hearts in his little fists as he offered one toothless smile after another.
Vayle blinked as Nelios produced a snazzy pair of baby headphones and slotted them over Angelos’s head. ‘Noise-cancelling to protect his ears,’ he muttered, then dropped a kiss on his son’s head once the device was in place. ‘There’s a cot in the back too, for when he needs it.’
That softening threatened again. For some reason, Nelios’s demand two weeks ago as to whether he was a monster, and how her instincts had immediately rejected that idea, flared across her senses. She realised she was staring at him, unable to look away as the plane gained speed.
And, no, she didn’t trick herself with the lie that it was the steep take-off that took her breath away. It was Nelios Petralis—fearsome, ruthless, towering and larger than life, but with a not so insubstantial vein of humanity buried beneath it all. That was the man who held her in a thrall she feared would overwhelm her if she didn’t find a way to break it.
So she was grateful that they had indeed decided to start the tour in southern Italy rather than the luxurious splendour of his Greek island.
Nelios XIV glittered on the shores of the Ionian Sea, a masterpiece of graceful marble arches, sprawling hallways, hidden alcoves and centuries-old charm. The staff displayed the right amount of haughtiness, pride and reverence to their guests.
‘Something amusing you?’ Nelios drawled beside her as they followed the impeccably dressed manager who personally escorted them to their suite.
‘I think you might be coming a lowly second to the adoration of your own creation. They love your hotel more than they love you.’
