by Tara Pammi
“Maybe because Camille knew I needed her more than you.” The glimpse of helplessness in Andreas’s eyes stunned Nik. “Are there more women to seduce? More dangerous expeditions to take on? Your new lover, Mia Rodriguez Morgan—”
“Christos! You’ve had your staff spying on me?”
There was not an ounce of guilt on Andreas’s face. Any pain Nik had felt two minutes ago drained, leaving fury in its wake. “This is exactly why I left this bloody palace! To escape father’s machinations and manipulations!
“And you want me to trust you?
“You’re every inch his son, Andreas, from that ruthless will that will crush anyone in its wake, from the way you manipulate Maman and Eleni, to your blind devotion to Drakon.
“He has made you in his image—a monster puffed with privilege and power. And if you don’t take care, you’ll descend into that same madness, just like him!”
Like a rock, a giant boulder, very much like the one the palace had been built on ages and ages ago, Andreas didn’t even flinch. He still had every ounce of his control, whereas Nik was barely holding on to his.
“What happens if she takes that story to the tabloids?”
“I’ve had lovers before. Mia’s no different.” She was no more than an obsession that had been satisfied.
She had to be. Even if the memory of that night never seemed too far from his mind. Or his body. Even if her innate sensuality that night was in direct contrast with some of the things Brian had carelessly said about her.
After all these weeks, Nik couldn’t hide from the fact that his night with Mia had been more than fantastic sex. But he could no more pursue a relationship with Mia than he could become his brother’s best friend.
Andreas was relentless. “It makes no difference to you then that the child she’s carrying might be yours?”
A child? His child?
Ice curdled in his veins.
He grabbed the lapels of his brother’s shirt and forced him close. And now, after he had shattered Nik’s own world with as much subtlety as a hammer blow, shock reverberated in his brother’s eyes. “You did not know.”
“You are making this up. You’ll do anything, tell any number of lies to get what you want.”
While he stood like the same bloody castle that he was the lord of, against attacks and sieges through the ages, a little whiteness emerged around Andreas’s mouth. “You made your anger and disgust for father and me known on every occasion, with every stunt you pulled, with every outrageous expedition you took on. And yet you carry on his tradition.
“You seduce women all over the world without thinking of consequences, and now you follow in his footsteps leaving your little bastards all over the place.” Andreas turned away from him.
Nik’s head spun around in dizzying circles. If not for the shock, he’d have thought those violent dizzy spells from his childhood were back.
He hadn’t figured out his own life yet, swinging from one adventure to the next, playing hide-and-seek with death again and again—and he had fathered a child?
A new life Mia and he had created that night...
He closed his eyes and let the inky darkness envelop him. The idea of walking away from this as he’d done with everything else in his whole life was a tempting notion.
His duty to Drakon, toward his family, lovers, girlfriends, careers—he’d made not settling into anything, walking away from everything, into an art form.
All he thrived on was the next challenge, the next horizon and not looking back.
He should do the same this time too.
The child would be better off. And he... His heart pounded in his chest as Nik sifted through his own tumultuous feelings, trying to grasp them before they slid away like water in a fist.
He didn’t do commitment, he didn’t do relationships. But still...
A family unit—and not the dysfunctional circus he’d been born into. Christos, it was what he’d wished for every Christmas when he’d been a kid.
Could this be his chance to carve a family that was just his own?
Knowing that a child he had created was somewhere in the world, unaware of his existence, not being a part of that child’s life—it would be unbearable.
“I don’t trust you. And I don’t trust what I become around you,” he said, knowing that Andreas still stood there, waiting to see if Nikandros needed him.
It would have meant a lot in the distant past. He would have gone down on his knees for an affectionate word from his brother through the long years of loneliness.
But Nikandros had stopped needing any of them—Theos; or his mother; his sister, Eleni; or Andreas—a long time ago.
They had all, at one time or the other, chosen Andreas over Nikandros.
They had forced him to become this man, forced him to leave that childish naivete, that dreamer behind. They’d ripped off the blinders he’d worn as a boy.
“I’m making amends, Nikandros, for father and my own...actions. You belong in Drakon.”
This was what Andreas had intended from the moment he had stepped onto the terrace seeking Nik. Reparations or not, Andreas was their father’s son to the last cell.
But all Nik could think of right then was the idea of a child—his child—and the woman he shouldn’t have tangled with at all.
CHAPTER FOUR
MIA HAD NO idea how it had happened. One minute, she was parking her Toyota under the covered lot, and the next, the media seemed to swarm her from all sides.
Sweat pooling down her back, she wondered if she should drive away, when she saw two tall, burly, plainly dressed men with wraparound shades create a subtle pathway from her car to the lobby.
Mia grabbed her handbag, pushed the car door open and hurried inside. She took the steps to her first floor apartment, her mind whirling. Those men—suddenly she knew whose men they were. Hands shaking, she rummaged through her bag for keys when the door to her apartment opened.
The intimidatingly wide, dark male who stood in the center of her living room made her heart pound dangerously.
Clad in a sky-blue polo shirt that made his eyes gleam and black jeans, was Nikandros. Mouth dry, she stared at him, the spacious open layout she loved about the lounge shrinking around him.
Shock gave way to something far more elemental as questions pounded at her. Had he been unable to stop thinking of that night too? Had he—
The second their eyes locked, sensations that made her skin stretch tight over her muscles poured in. The hard weight of him inside her body, pulsing and thrusting, the deep clench of her core around him, the tremors that had breathed new life into her very veins...
Shying away from his penetrating stare, Mia went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Her back to him, she drained it. Her hand went to her abdomen. She hadn’t imagined seeing him anytime soon. Didn’t know the first thing she was going to say to him.
“I will stand here all day, Mia. Patience is one of the few virtues I possess.” But the patience in his tone was exaggerated, only a thin veneer.
Taking a deep breath, she turned.
Sunlight from the little kitchen window fell in beams over his sharp, lean features. Jet-black hair a little long. The undone buttons on his T-shirt revealed bronzed skin stretched tight over defined pectorals. The solidly male strength of his thighs encased in black jeans—her insides quaked.
Stomach flip-flopping at the scent of his aftershave as he invaded the small space of the kitchen, she leaned against the counter for support. “What’re you doing in my apartment?”
“I convinced the security guy in the little hut that I was a friend you’d appreciate seeing in the midst of that media jungle. He was more than happy to have the assistance from my guards.”
“I might not be the Princess of some Mediterranean jewel but I’ve just as much right to my privacy.”
He raised a brow, the cast of his features taut. She flushed, wishing she could keep her tone neutral. But seeing him tur
ned her knees to jelly and jumbled up her emotions, and the animosity in her tone was her only defense. “And here I thought I’d be welcome again after such a warm reception the last time.”
She moved away from that confining space and walked into the living room, hoping a little distance would even out her body’s intense reactions. “That night—” a flush overtook her but she forced herself to say the words “—was a one-off. It didn’t make friends of us, Nikandros.”
Hands at the nape of his neck, he twisted it this way and that, while his gaze stripped her to the core. The movement stretched his T-shirt tight against his lean chest. “I’m glad there’s no misunderstanding on that front.”
Mia flinched at the sharp derision in his tone. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re here,” she challenged, ignoring the fact that the longer she didn’t bring up the news of her pregnancy, the messier things would be between them.
But his easy dismissal, when she hadn’t been able to forget for a single minute of what they had shared, stung.
Long, powerful strides covered the distance that separated them until he caged her against the couch.
Blue eyes glittering, he seemed nothing like the man who had folded his huge body around hers in a gentle embrace that night. Nothing like the man who had jolted her into life after three long years. “The only reason those wolves outside didn’t bombard you with questions about the pregnancy is because my aide manipulated them with the offer of a statement.”
Her knees giving away from under her, Mia fell into the couch behind her. A block of chill ice seemed to radiate inside her despite the sweltering heat of the day.
Nikandros Drakos, Mia had forgotten, was a darling of the press.
For all his irresponsible, death-defying ways, he was charming, approachable, the most down-to-earth member of a royal family that was shrouded in secrecy. He had the media eating out of his hand most days.
“Is it mine?” The question reverberated in the sun-dappled silence.
She looked up, tension swirling around them thickly.
The wind chimes she’d tied outside rattled in the wind, the tinkling sound mocking her. This baby was supposed to be a new start for her. Without the complications of a man, without her own fears leaching away her chance at happiness.
“How did you know?” He’d been an ocean away, existing in a world different from hers.
“Christos, Mia, just tell me if it’s mine.”
What did he want? What would he do? Would he demand that she not tell anyone?
A man like Nikandros thrived on the next challenge, on the next conquest. The last thing he’d want was to be tied to a woman and a baby.
He sat down on the coffee table, once again locking her against the small space with his long legs. Thighs that had straddled her in the most intimate way blocked her movement. Mia’s breath stuttered in her throat. Jeez, she had to stop thinking of that night.
“If you’re even considering lying, Mia—”
Her own temper flared as she met his accusing gaze. “Of course, the baby is yours. I hadn’t been with a man in three and a half years before that night.”
Deep grooves etched into his forehead; a stillness came over him. His gaze searched her face, and then a long breath left him in a shuddering exhale.
That simple exhale said everything he didn’t. Mia looked down at the white knuckles in her lap. “I was going to tell you soon, once I processed it myself.” His prolonged silence made her insides twist and she babbled on. “I mean, we used a condom. My cycle hasn’t been regular since I stopped playing and the pill was messing with the pain medication after the injury and I didn’t think much of it until...” Her face flamed as she realized what she’d blurted out. “It came as a shock,” she added lamely.
“Not the third time.”
“What?” She raised a confused gaze to him.
“I didn’t use a condom that third time. At dawn. When I found your behind so neatly and tightly tucked up against my groin.”
Mia closed her eyes, wanting to hide away from starting this thread. Instead, the memory of Nikandros coaxing her awake in the most raw, elemental way ever...
An expletive exploded from his mouth, snatching Mia back into the now. “I’ve never been so irresponsible about—”
She covered his mouth with her hand, unwilling to hear him say that it had all been a mistake. That was one thing she couldn’t bear to hear, whatever the consequences they were facing now. “I could’ve...reminded you.”
Except she hadn’t been capable of a single rational thought by then. Instead of letting her leave, he’d slept by her side the whole night, and the solid, comfortingly male warmth of him, the sheer feeling of being held like she was precious in those corded arms... Mia couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it.
That night had been about more than fantastic sex. Yet, she couldn’t share that with him. Not if she wanted to retain her sanity.
“I take responsibility for it. All of this. For that night and the consequence.”
He raised that brow again, a derisive glint in his eyes. “Yes? For all of it? If I didn’t have a vivid memory I think you would try to convince me that you seduced me against my wish.” He sighed. “But we were both there.”
“I mean it, Nikandros. I’ve made my decision and I—”
“I would be delighted if you’d share this decision with me.”
His sarcasm stung. “I realized I’m ready to be a mother. I asked him, but Brian never...” The sudden tenseness of his posture made her swallow her next thought. Her ex’s name had somehow become a dirty word between them. Yet, she felt the most insane urge to explain herself, to go over her disastrous marriage so that Nikandros would understand.
Absolutely insane—because Nikandros was not her future and Brian was her past.
“I will love this child, Nikandros, more than I’ve ever loved anyone else.”
The flat line of his mouth seemed to go back to its natural shape. “We agree on something.”
“What’s that?”
“That a child should be loved irrespective of who they are or how they came to be.”
Shock was too tame a word for what resonated through Mia. She’d been loved like that once, without conditions, without reservations. And when she’d lost it, something had forever frozen inside her.
The Daredevil of Drakon, it seemed, was as conventional as a man could be, in this.
“You should have contacted me immediately.”
“You had a lot going on,” she added defensively.
“The events in my life have nothing to do with your...with this.”
“Your father’s deteriorating health, Brian’s death—they had everything to do with us. We don’t even...like each other. We were not ourselves that night.” Accusation she fought hard to keep out of her tone sneaked in anyway. “You went straight back to it all—the nightclubs, the car races. It seemed you had put that night thoroughly behind you. Moved on.”
“From you, yes,” he said, in a voice that could freeze her blood. “I was done with you. Whatever obsession I had with you was satisfied.”
He walked to the French doors and looked down, leaving Mia reeling from that easy dismissal. Of course, what had she expected from a man who’d dated some of the most beautiful women in the world?
That he’d been unable to get that night out of his mind? That it had been special? It was telling what foolish hopes she’d harbored even when she didn’t want this to go any further.
His lithe frame turned around, his gaze far-off. “This place is not safe for you anymore. Brian’s affairs, his shadow, they haven’t left you yet. You need to leave.”
“I can’t run away because of a few reporters.”
He didn’t even seem to hear her. “We’ll leave for Drakon immediately. Pack what you can, the rest you can buy there.”
Rushing to her feet, Mia wrapped her fingers around his forearm. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?”
But even that simple touch made memories of that night burst into the space between them.
Languorous mouth kissing her spine, a hand stroking between her thighs, waking her up with such sizzling heat—the moment was so vivid that a soft gasp slid out of Mia’s mouth.
“You still want me.” He said it so clinically that it cut through the desire, making her feel foolish. “That’s a start, I suppose, if the worst had to happen.”
“I don’t want you,” she breathed out, her protest pitiful in the face of her body’s obvious response. “And this baby is not the worst that could have happened, not for me.”
“Maybe not the child, but a relationship with one’s dead friend’s ex is hardly the auspicious start one hopes for. You wouldn’t be the woman I’d have chosen to carry my child. Not when your history with him will always hang over our heads. Not when...” He bit away the words, a dark shadow in his eyes. “But then, I should’ve thought of that before I arrived at that blasted press conference.
“Poor impulse control has ever been the bane of my life.”
“That history could be clarified,” Mia bit out, struggling to sort through the grenade he’d thrown down, “if you do me the courtesy of letting me speak about Brian and me. But of course—” Only now did the first part of his derisive comment sink through. “What the hell do you mean, a relationship?”
“You didn’t think I would ask if the child was mine, and then calmly walk away, did you?”
She stepped back from him, a cold sweat breaking out along her neck. “It is exactly what I expected of you from the moment I got the news.” Exactly why she hadn’t panicked about his role in all this. Which she definitely was now.
“It’s your fault for thinking you know me, Mia,” he said with a hardness in his eyes.
“I’ve followed your lifestyle for a decade now. You’re nothing if not predictable. Women and thrills—you’re a daredevil who likes to live on the edge, Nik. You can’t fault me for thinking you’ll run in the other direction when your one-night stand ends in an unexpected pregnancy.”