What the Greek Can't Resist

by Maya Blake

  ‘Perla mou...’

  ‘No, I don’t want to talk about this any more. And I don’t want to discuss marriage. You’re proposing because I’m pregnant but nothing will ever convince me to get married again.’

  ‘Not even the welfare of your child?’

  She paled and he let out another curse. Swinging her into his arms, he walked to the sofa and sat down with her in his lap.

  ‘This child means everything to me. I intend to give it everything it needs,’ she whispered fiercely.

  ‘Except a stable home and the unity of both parents.’

  ‘That’s a low blow, Ari. You had that for a while. But it didn’t turn out great for you either, did it?’ She regretted her answer but she had to fight back. She was no longer fighting for just herself. She had her baby to think of.

  Ari’s arms tightened around her. ‘Our marriage will be different.’

  ‘You cannot possibly know that.’

  ‘I’m determined to win this fight, Perla.’

  ‘Why does it have to be a fight?’

  ‘Because you’re resisting my every effort to make you see sense.’

  ‘Just because I don’t see things your way doesn’t mean it’s nonsense. If this hadn’t happened, would you have ever remarried?’

  The tightening of his jaw and the way his eyelids swept down gave her the answer she needed. ‘So why does it have to be different for me?’

  ‘Because this is no longer just about you.’

  Simple words that made her breath catch. ‘I know. But this is emotional blackmail.’ And she refused to succumb to blackmail of any sort ever again.

  ‘It’s the truth. Tell me what your plan is for our child. Do you intend to return to your former in-laws after he or she is born, live with Lowell’s parents with another man’s child?’

  A shiver went through her. ‘Of course not. I’ll find another place to live.’

  ‘And when the child is older? What then?’

  ‘I’ll find adequate childcare and continue my career. Millions of women do it every day. Why should I be any different?’

  ‘Because this child is not just any child. It is a Pantelides. Whether you want to admit it or not, that makes it different from any other child.’

  ‘I know you like to think you’re special but—’

  ‘No buts, Perla. I’ve lost one unborn child.’ His gaze dropped to her flat stomach and he swallowed hard. ‘If I’m lucky enough to become a father for a second time, nothing and no one will keep me from my child.’

  * * *

  A stalemate.

  Despite knowing it was temporary, she hung onto the stalemate as Ari’s private jet raced them towards Bermuda and the Pantelides resort project she’d undertaken what seemed like a thousand years ago.

  It was hard to fathom that it’d been barely eighteen hours since she’d discovered she was carrying Ari’s child.

  Even harder to believe she’d agreed to give him an answer in the time the marriage licence would take to be ready.

  But the look on his face when he’d made his vow had shaken her to the core. Shaken her into considering the fact that he meant it when he said he wanted a full-time role in their child’s life.

  After what she had been through, shoved from foster home to foster home and then eventually spat out at eighteen, did she not owe it to her child to give it the best care possible?

  But then could she bear to tie herself to another man who clearly did not want her for herself? Morgan had used her to hide his true sexual orientation from those he believed would judge him.

  With Ari, it was simply the fact that she carried his heir.

  A wave of sadness washed over her and the tablet she was supposed to be using to jot down ideas for the resort opening blurred as tears welled in her eyes.

  Tears. Another symptom of her pregnancy she couldn’t seem to stem. She brushed them away and looked up to find Ari watching her.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I seem to have discovered the pregnancy hormone that lets me cry at the drop of a hat. I should hire myself out to Hollywood.’

  He stood from his wide leather seat and approached her with one hand outstretched. ‘Come with me,’ he commanded.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, although she found herself putting her hand in his, allowing him to draw her up.

  ‘We don’t land for an hour and a half. You should take the time to rest.’

  She stopped. ‘I’m pregnant, not sick. I don’t need to rest.’

  ‘But you will. Or I’ll turn this plane around and we can head to London.’

  ‘I have work to do, Ari—’

  ‘You were staring at a blank screen on your tablet.’

  ‘I was strategising.’

  ‘Yes, and it was so effective you were in tears.’ He placed a firm hand on her waist and propelled her forward. He opened the cabin door and she entered a large, sumptuously appointed bedroom. The gold-and-blue décor screamed opulent sophistication but it was the bed that drew her attention. King-sized and high, it was piled with pillows and covered with a gold silk spread that begged to be touched.

  Moving forward, she did just that, then went one better and sat on the edge of the bed. The firm mattress gave a little beneath her and, on a whim, she kicked off her shoes and scooted backwards just as a large yawn caught her unawares.

  She looked up to find Ari regarding her with an amused expression. ‘Fine. I can probably do with a little rest.’

  He moved forward and started removing the cufflinks from his shirt. As he folded the sleeves back, he toed off his shoes.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘What does it look like?’

  ‘But...’ She stopped as she recalled that he’d been up all night. It suddenly struck her that he’d taken care of her all through the shocking discovery of her pregnancy and afterwards while he’d neglected his own needs.

  She could insist he return to the cabin but that would be unnecessarily mean and, really, there was more than enough room on the bed for both of them. It wasn’t as if he was about to tear her clothes off and make mad, passionate love to her.

  They’d moved past that.

  She pushed away the ache that lodged in her heart at the thought and lifted the cover.

  The smile he gave her didn’t quite reach his eyes and she noticed the tension lines around his mouth when he got into bed.

  Expecting him to relax against the pillow, she held her breath when he turned sideways and propped his head on his curved arm. Hypnotic eyes travelled over her hair. ‘You’ll be much more comfortable if you take your hair down.’

  ‘I don’t think so. My hair has got me into too much trouble around you and your inner ten-year-old. It’s staying up.’

  Her hair had been an explosive subject between them. Far be it from her to tempt fate. Or, worse still, for her to tempt fate only to find fate couldn’t care less.

  His mouth twisted. ‘Please yourself.’ He relaxed against the pillows, crossed his hands over his chest and closed his eyes. Within minutes, his even breathing echoed softly through the room.

  She stared because she couldn’t help herself. And because, like the first time she’d watched him sleep, Ari’s transformation in repose was breathtaking.

  But now she knew the reason behind the constant torment that lurked in his eyes and the bone-deep weariness etched into his face, she was thankful he received peace in sleep.

  For the first time since he’d told her, she let herself think of just what Ari had lost. Losing his wife was devastating enough, but his unborn child, too? Was it any wonder he’d been so desolate that day at Macdonald Hall?

  Was it any wonder he’d wanted to find oblivion? Her heart ached and tears clouded her eyes a
ll over again.

  God, this needed to stop or she’d be a basket case long before this child was born. She couldn’t afford to be a basket case. Couldn’t afford anything other than her complete wits about her, her mind and her heart intact. She’d been through too much to put her emotions on the line again. Until she could find a way to guarantee that, there was no way she could consider Ari’s proposal.

  Because there were times when he showed her kindness that her foolish heart believed he could care for her.

  And that was a slippery slope to heartache she had no intention of skidding down...

  She woke to the sound of a steady heartbeat beneath her ear and a warm, familiar scent in her nostrils. But it was the fingers splayed over her stomach that made her eyes slowly drift open.

  Ari was awake, his gaze fixed on her flat belly. She must have curled closer to his side of the bed in her sleep because he had one arm clamped around her while his other rested on her stomach.

  As she watched him, a wave of despair washed over his face. The emotion was so strong her breath caught. He heard it and his eyes flew to hers. He started to withdraw, but she held his hand in place.

  ‘What happened to her?’ she asked softly.

  He froze and his features shuttered. For several minutes she thought he wouldn’t answer. ‘She had a weak heart. The doctors were divided on whether she could carry a child to term without it causing a severe strain on her heart. I warned her it was too risky. She chose to side with the more optimistic doctors. Her heart gave out in her second trimester.’

  The naked devastation in his voice slashed her insides. ‘And you blame yourself.’

  That was why the news of her pregnancy didn’t bring joy. The look on his face had been one of deep, wretched torment.

  His smile was grim as his eyes were bleak. ‘Despite my fears, I let myself be convinced she would be all right. That our child would be all right. They both died.’

  ‘Ari, you can’t—’

  He pulled away and got out of bed. ‘We are not having this conversation now, Perla. It’s time to leave the plane. We landed ten minutes ago.’

  * * *

  The Pantelides Bermuda was another architectural work of art. The blueprints and plans Ari had shown her at the restaurant were nowhere near as awe-inspiring as the real thing.

  The long, palm-tree-lined drive along a private road gave way to six sprawling buildings linked together by curved wooden bridges.

  Multi-roomed suites, each one containing a wide wooden deck, an infinity pool and a luxurious spa, faced a stunning private white-sanded beach. Four-poster beds built with local carved wood soared up to vaulted ceilings and crown mouldings that lent an air of old-world elegance, blending old and new in exquisite symmetry.

  The exclusive three-storey casino made entirely of triple-paned glass was set away from the main resort on giant transparent stilts and accessed by private boats manned by discreet security guards. From the resort, the building seemed to be floating on water.

  Once their luggage was loaded into an air-conditioned SUV, Ari turned to her. ‘We’ll take the full tour later. Right now I’ll introduce you to your chef.’

  ‘As long as it’s not to another bed and a command to “rest”, we’re okay.’

  His lips twisted but he said nothing as he climbed in beside her and drove them to their villa at the southernmost point of the resort.

  The sight of the turquoise waters gave her another idea for the opening. ‘I think I’ll add scuba-diving to the activities.’

  ‘Great. Consider rowing too.’

  ‘Rowing?’

  ‘Sakis and Brianna are joining us for a couple of days before the guests arrive. Sometimes the waters around here get a little choppy but I intend to row with Sakis. I’ll let you know how I rate it.’

  ‘That would be great, thanks.’

  There was no sign of the ragged pain she’d seen on his face on the plane. He was back to Arion Pantelides, luxury hotel mogul and master of all he surveyed.

  She held her breath when they reached the villa and the staff asked where to place their luggage.

  ‘I’ll take the smaller suite. You take the master suite,’ Ari said.

  Perla wasn’t sure why her stomach fell with disappointment. Had she really thought he would insist on joint sleeping arrangements? Nothing had changed since yesterday aside from the fact that their indiscretions had resulted in a child. Sexually, they were done with each other.

  Still she couldn’t suppress her rising desolation as he walked away. With two personal butlers seeing to the unpacking, Perla changed into the only bikini she owned and walked from room to room, acquainting herself with the layout of the villa. It was as she entered the solarium that she noticed the repeating item in each room.

  She turned as Ari walked in. ‘You’ve had an epi pen placed in each room?’ she asked, her heart flipping over when she noticed he’d changed into khaki shorts and a white T-shirt.

  ‘Yes,’ he answered simply.

  The thoughtfulness behind the gesture was so alien, she blurted, ‘Why?’

  He paused on the way to the French windows that led to the teak-floored deck, changed course and came to stand in front of her. This close, his proximity wreaked havoc with her pulse rate. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers down her cheek.

  ‘I’m not taking any chances this time, Perla. Not with you, not with this baby.’ His voice was a solid, solemn vow that struck deep into her heart.

  Her eyes prickled and she sniffed hard. ‘Are you determined to make me cry again?’

  He grimaced and dropped his hand. ‘Perhaps I need to learn to accept that tears are par for the course. Come and meet Peter, your chef.’

  Slowly she followed him outside into the sunshine, desperately trying to get her wayward emotions under control. ‘I really don’t need a personal chef.’

  ‘It is already done, glikia mou, so you have to live with it.’

  She was trying to decipher the Greek endearment when a man dressed in chef whites stepped forward from behind the table where he’d been slicing fresh fruit.

  ‘Your fruit platter is coming right up. And for lunch I have some freshly grilled chicken kebabs with a green salad. If you need anything else, let me know.’

  Ari steered her towards twin loungers by the pool. As they sat down, his phone pinged. The huge smile that split his face as he read the text made her breath catch.

  ‘Theo is coming down too. He’ll be here at the end of the week.’

  A pang of envy spilled into her heart. ‘You’re very close, aren’t you?’

  He looked up and shrugged. ‘They’re my family. They mean everything to me.’

  The simple statement made more tears prickle her eyes. He saw it and frowned. ‘Perla?’

  ‘You’re so lucky. I mean...you’ve had tragedy, of course, but you’ve remained close with your family and that’s...that’s...’

  He watched her with keen eyes. ‘It’s something you’ve never had.’

  ‘No.’

  He set his phone aside. ‘Marry me and you can have it too.’

  Her heart lurched and temptation shot hope into her heart. But still her instincts shrieked dire warning.

  ‘It’s not that simple. I can’t...’

  His face hardened. ‘For the sake of this child we have to make sacrifices, Perla.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean we both agree we’re not an ideal match but we need to look beyond that to what’s best for our child. Whatever lofty ideas you have of being an ideal single parent will always pale in comparison to what we can provide as a united family. That is the bottom line.’

  ‘That may be your bottom line. It’s not mine. I think it’s more important that this child grows up in a loving envi
ronment.’

  His face hardened further. ‘And you don’t think we can provide that?’

  She held her breath until Peter had delivered the fruit platters and returned to the far side of the deck where he was preparing their lunch. ‘Come on, Ari. After what you’ve been through, what we’ve both been through—’

  ‘My past has nothing to do with this.’

  Her heart sank. ‘If you believe that then I’m going to need even more time to consider your proposal.’

  ‘What the hell are you saying, Perla?’

  ‘I’m saying you’ve been hurt and devastated. We’ve both been. We need to factor that into how much that will impact our child’s welfare.’

  ‘So you want me to spill my feelings to you before you consider marrying me.’

  ‘No. But we need to get past the bitterness and deal with the pain before we can move on. That aside, we’ve barely spent more than forty-eight hours in each other’s company.’

  His eyes gleamed. ‘And a good portion of that time we spent having sex. At least we know we’re compatible in the bedroom.’

  Heat crawled over her skin and burrowed inside to sting parts of her body she didn’t want to think about right now. ‘How does that help in bringing up a child?’

  His gaze drifted over her flushed skin, and his smile held a great deal of mockery. ‘You’d be surprised how compliant a well-sated man can be.’

  She speared a piece of papaya with her fork as her face flamed. ‘Well, I wouldn’t know. I didn’t succeed in that department during my marriage.’

  He stiffened. ‘You were wasting your passion on the wrong man. Our marriage will be different.’

  ‘So...so you intend for us to...’

  ‘Have sex? Yes, Perla. I have no intention of living like a monk.’

  So she had an answer as to how the physical part of their marriage would be. But no clue as to the emotional. Could she contemplate a future with him, knowing he would never be emotionally available?