Greek Bachelors: In Need Of A Wife: Christakis's Rebellious Wife / Greek Tycoon, Waitress Wife / The Mediterranean's Wife by Contract

‘I don’t see why,’ Nik countered, cradling his wine lazily in one lean, elegant hand. ‘We’ll send her a special present instead—’

Betsy stiffened. ‘No. I want to attend her party. I always assumed we’d be returning in time for it.’

Nik shrugged a broad shoulder while studying her with quiet satisfaction. Even in the short time they had spent on the island Betsy had blossomed. Her skin had acquired a light golden tint and her eyes were no longer shadowed. Her face was fuller, softer, the previous tension etched there banished by a regime of good food, afternoon naps and regular swimming sessions. When the local doctor had checked her blood pressure the day before, the reading had been normal and Nik believed that his decision to stay on Vesos had been fully vindicated. Here on the island, Betsy had nothing to do but get out of bed in the morning. Rest and relaxation had proved to be all she truly needed to regain her strength.

‘It never occurred to me that you would want to attend Belle’s party,’ he admitted levelly. ‘You’re doing so well here. I think we should stay on for at least another week.’

Betsy had stiffened defensively. ‘No, I can’t do that—’

‘Of course you can,’ Nik told her in a ‘subject closed’ tone of voice lightly tinged with impatience and dismissal. ‘Belle will understand that your health must come first—’

‘For goodness’ sake, there’s nothing wrong with me any more!’ Betsy argued, planting her hands firmly to the table and pushing herself upright as she thrust her chair back. ‘I’m feeling a lot better and you know it!’

Nik uncoiled his long, lean length from the seat opposite with a positively slothful grace that mocked her angry, impatient movements. ‘I don’t understand why you’re getting so annoyed—’

‘Of course you don’t. You’re too accustomed to me doing everything you ask!’ Betsy condemned, angry with him, angry with herself, for hadn’t she taken the path of least resistance too often in recent days? For almost a week she had been painfully sensible and she had followed all Mr Xenophon’s advice while at the same time taking on board Nik’s suggestions. ‘But I’m not going to go on acting like a doormat!’

His lean dark features hardened. ‘I have not treated you like a doormat—’

‘That’s what I used to behave like and how you’re used to dealing with me,’ Betsy reasoned bitterly. ‘But I’m not the same woman I was before you started the divorce, so laying down the law, giving me your opinion and making it clear what you want isn’t going to make me change my mind about what I want to do!’

Nik ignored that direct challenge and said instead, ‘Why is this party so important to you?’

‘Because it’s important to Belle and she and Cristo are family, not to mention my best friends...or haven’t you realised that?’ Betsy prompted, happily leaping off on another tangent because even before he had spoken she had not been in the best of moods. ‘Who do you think supported me when the divorce started? Your brother! Cristo was really, really good to me—’

Nik chose not to mention that he had encouraged that connection but he was taken aback by her vehemence. ‘Don’t think I’m not grateful for that—’

‘Like you cared at the time!’ Betsy slung back at him in furious rebuttal. ‘Cristo listened to me, talked to me, helped me through the worst period of my life. And Belle was generous enough to offer me her friendship from the very beginning—’

‘Well, she never offered it to me,’ Nik responded drily.

‘Belle resents the fact that you’ve never shown the smallest interest in her mother and your father’s children!’

‘I never knew Gaetano. Why would his other children interest me? It’s different with Cristo—he’s an adult and we have a genuine bond—’

‘Well, just you remember that those same children are going to be our babies’ uncles and aunts!’ Betsy reminded him tartly. ‘Let’s hope they feel friendlier towards our children in the future than you are to them.’

Lean dark features clenching hard, Nik gazed steadily back at her and slowly compressed his sculpted lips. ‘I hadn’t thought of that aspect. It does put a different complexion on the situation.’

Disconcerted by that concession though she was, Betsy made no comment. Instead she said, ‘Why are you always so negative about Gaetano Ravelli?’

‘Why wouldn’t I be? As a father, he was an embarrassment. He lived off women like a gigolo—’

‘But he was married to your mother, Cristo’s mother and Zarif’s,’ she contradicted in surprise at his opinion.

‘Surely you must have appreciated that Gaetano only ever married rich women for what he could get out of them? He got no money from my mother solely because their beach wedding in South America wasn’t legal,’ Nik advanced with derision. ‘Helena deliberately neglected to file the right documents because she already suspected Gaetano of infidelity with Cristo’s mother. Once she had the proof of it, she got rid of him and he couldn’t claim a penny from her. How can you expect me to have any respect for a man that calculating and greedy?’

‘Well, hopefully Gaetano’s children by Belle’s mother will grow up into decent people. You shouldn’t hold their parentage against them. After all, you don’t hold it against Cristo or Zarif,’ she reminded him.

His mobile phone rang and she walked away, leaving him to answer it, and went out to the terrace. There she perched on a low wall to listen to the distant sound of the surf washing the shore beyond the trees while striving to breathe in deep and let her bad mood simply evaporate.

His unbuttoned shirt blowing back in the breeze, Nik strolled along the terrace talking on the phone in measured Greek. His strong shoulder muscles bunched and kicked back as he gave a languorous stretch, arching his long spine so that his washboard abs pulled tight into mouth-watering definition. Betsy couldn’t take her eyes off his spectacular body or the downy little furrow of hair that swam into view above his shorts as he breathed in, chest swelling, stomach tightening, causing the waistband to drop even lower on his lean brown hips. Heat flooded her face and her body and, half angry, half amused at her own behaviour, she tore her gaze from him and stared out into the darkness instead.

Considering that ‘later’ had never come around a week ago, looking was the only sensual pleasure she had, Betsy reflected, tensing at the thought and the feelings of hurt and rejection it evoked. For some reason, Nik had backed away from the idea of intimacy. Not only did he cart her up and downstairs with the detachment of a block of wood but he had also chosen to sleep in the bedroom next door. His retreat on that front had taken Betsy by surprise because Nik had always been very highly sexed. Even worse from her point of view, her body was awash with hormones and raring to go with an enthusiasm she had never experienced before.

She remembered that sexy little interlude on the evening of their arrival and breathed in deep and slow to cool her rising temperature. What had changed for Nik since that night? Did the very fact that she was pregnant make her less attractive on his terms? She supposed that was perfectly possible, particularly to a male who had never wanted children. Now that children were on the way, Nik might be ready to take responsibility as a parent but who was to say how he really felt about the development? A man wasn’t committed simply because he said and did the right things. It was even possible that her less than enthusiastic reaction to the offer of reconciliation had annoyed and offended him. Nik was a proud man. He had tried to build a bridge between them and she was still standing frozen in the middle of that bridge, moving neither forward nor back, paralysed by indecision and terrified of doing the wrong thing.

Yet he had given her every opportunity to discuss her insecurities. Only, when had deep, meaningful conversations ever worked with Nik? When he didn’t talk back it was a waste of her breath and when he brooded in silence she felt even worse. And when, as now, he might feel that for the sake of her health and peace of mind he had to tell her whatever she wanted to hear, how likely was it that he would feel that he could be honest? Throughout the week, Nik had displayed endless concern about her well-being. Fortunately her appetite had returned and she was sleeping soundly again, pleasantly tired after daily swimming sessions and walks on the beach. But the emergency, such as it had been, was over now and he needed to accept that and stop treating her like an invalid.

Tossing his phone down on the table, Nik came to a sudden halt in front of her. His wide, sensual mouth compressed. ‘Look, if Belle’s party is that important to you, we’ll leave tomorrow,’ he delivered grimly. ‘But I don’t agree with it—’

Surprise and pleasure darted through Betsy that he had given way. He might not understand the depth of her friendship with Cristo and Belle but he was trying to respect it. Without thinking about it, she stretched up on tiptoe to link her arms round his neck. ‘You’ll enjoy seeing Cristo, and Belle told me that Zarif is trying to clear his schedule to attend as well...’

The warmth of her smile lit up her heart-shaped face. It was relatively easy to make Betsy happy; Nik had realised that a long time ago but he had fallen out of the habit. But then in the early days he had had to negotiate a welter of misapprehensions before he had found the right path. It was not the cost of the gift that mattered but the thought and the effort behind it. It could be as simple as making a phone call, regardless of how busy he was, or of sharing the minutiae of his busy day to make her feel a part of it. Back then an unexpectedly sunny morning, the random kindness of a stranger or a casual compliment could leave Betsy wreathed in smiles.

‘Oh, joy, my brother the king with the big mouth,’ Nik derided as he looked down at her and slowly closed his arms round her slight body.

Betsy groaned out loud, having forgotten that complication. ‘I think Zarif did you a favour, so cut him some slack. I had to find out about the vasectomy at some stage,’ she pointed out ruefully. ‘You had backed yourself into a corner by not telling me about it and I don’t think you knew how to get out of it.’

Nik was genuinely stunned by that shrewd assessment of his behaviour. Ebony lashes shielded his reflective gaze but his thoughts were short-circuited by the soft, full mouth pressing to the corner of his with unstudied warmth. Betsy smelled of peaches and vanilla, and every barrier he had raised against temptation was washed away as if a tidal wave had engulfed him. His hands slid down to her delicately curved hips and he hoisted her up against him and brought his mouth crashing down on hers with hungry enthusiasm.

‘Why did I have to wait so long for that?’ Betsy moaned helplessly, struggling to relocate her breath while every skin cell in her body erupted into sudden life.

Nik stiffened defensively at the question and then set her circumspectly down again. ‘Because if I can’t finish, I don’t want to start,’ he told her frankly.