Because a few months ago he was chasing more of the same. More stocks, more money, more career success. More lonely days, more hours at his desk, more business for the sake of keeping busy. And now he was on a collision course with something foreign and terrifying. In a few days’ time, he and Marianna would go to see the ob-gyn and make sure the baby was healthy. In a little over six months, he would be a father.
The very thought of holding the child in his arms unsettled him to his core. It was unexplainable, but he’d already formed a bond of sorts. Not with the baby, because there wasn’t anything for him to see or feel yet, but with the idea of it all. With the idea that he might be able to right the wrongs of his own neglectful parents…and Kosta.
“You look very deep in thought,” Marianna commented. She was still wearing his too-big sunglasses, and they looked a little ridiculous on her. “What’s on your mind?”
He blinked. Nobody ever asked him what he was thinking. Mainly because he never put himself in a position for anyone to observe him so closely. But he couldn’t exactly tell her he was contemplating the changes in his life. It wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. It was too real. Too raw.
“I, uhh…” His brain scrambled. “I like your bikini.”
Great work, malaka. Smooth as sandpaper.
But if Marianna thought it odd, she certainly didn’t show it. “Thanks. I thought the high-waist bottoms were good for covering…well, you know.”
“You look like Marilyn Monroe.” He cocked his head. “No, more like Sophia Loren.”
“Wow, you certainly know what to say when you’re not being a grump.” She pushed the sunglasses back up her nose in a way that was delightfully dorky. “I was starting to wonder why you even slept with me in the first place.”
Nico’s gaze flicked to the guy driving the boat, but he suspected the man’s English wouldn’t be strong enough to follow the conversation. Thank god.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you keep coming to bed and perching yourself on the edge of the mattress. I was worried you’d started to think I was repulsive.”
She was going to make him say it. He didn’t even know the point of this conversation. Rehashing possibly the biggest mistake of his life—or at the very least the mistake with the most long-lasting consequences—wasn’t going to do anything but sour his mood.
“I was attracted to you.” His eyes roamed her body, noting the way her nipples pressed against the slick bikini fabric and the way her neck and cheeks turned a shade of sun-kissed pink. “Isn’t that why most people sleep together?”
“Yes, but…” She sighed. “Oh, never mind.”
“What?”
“Men generally aren’t attracted to me.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Sure, I had one or two guys show a little interest, but most glossed over me like I wasn’t even there. I was never the pretty, skinny girl in school. I had acne and braces for far longer than was fair, and by the time I got into my twenties I’d developed this kind of aura.”
“Aura?”
“They used to joke that I was going to die a virgin.” Her voice wavered. “I was the town weirdo. Even if I tried as hard as I could to be pretty, I was still weird.”
“You’re not weird,” he said softly, touching her arm. “You’re…unique.”
“You know that’s just the polite term for weird, right?”
He snorted. “When have you known me to be polite?”
“Good point.” She smiled. “Although I happen to think ‘the beast’ is more a persona than reality.”
“Are you saying my bark is worse than my bite?”
“I don’t know.” She tapped her chin. The mirror-lens sunglasses reflected his own face back to him, stopping him from being able to read her fully. “The student in me feels that more research is required.”
“And the woman in you?”
Her lips parted. “Also thinks more research is required.”
The boat stopped, cutting off their conversation, and their tour guide told them it was time to get snorkeling. They took a few minutes to fit themselves with snorkels and flippers. Marianna struggled to balance, so Nico helped her down to the flat part of the boat where they would jump into the water.
Marianna stood at the edge, her hands balled by her sides. “I…” She looked at him. “I’ve never been snorkeling before.”
“Are you scared?”
She nodded. “I want to do it, though.”
“Do you want me to go first?” He adjusted his snorkel.
“Well…” She looked over the edge of the boat and swallowed. “Could we go together?”
He came up beside her and grabbed hold of her hand, squeezing her slightly. She squeezed back, and for some reason it reassured him, too, even though he had no idea what the hell the action was supposed to do for him, since he was as confident a swimmer as anyone who lived by the water.
“Remember to blow through the snorkel to keep the water out, okay?” he said. “I’ve got you.”
It was enough to visibly relax her, and she nodded, her mouth set into a determined line. “Ready?”
On her count, they jumped in together, and Nico let the water swallow him. For a moment, he let himself drop without moving, without fighting. Why hadn’t he done this in so long? The feeling of being surrounded by the ocean, nothing but bubbles for sound and blue for miles in every direction, comforted him more than anything else had in a very long time. Usually, swimming was utilitarian, for the purpose of exercising his muscles. Occasionally he went for a swim when a difficult work problem had taken hold of his brain. But it was always numbers and counting, forward motion. Progression.
Never this blissful sinking.
He pumped his legs, getting used to the feel of the flippers as he propelled himself upward, breaking the surface with a splash. Pulling his mask onto his forehead, he searched for Marianna.
“Bloody hell!” She still had her mask on, but the breathing tube was dangling from the side. “I was going to send a search party.”
Her concern seemed genuine, though whether it was about him or the fact that she’d end up in the water alone was another thing entirely. “I’m here now. The sharks aren’t usually hungry this time of day.”
Her eyes widened for a split second before she glared at him. “Very funny.”
He chuckled to himself and pulled his mask back down, dipping his face into the water to test that it was sealed. “Ready?” he asked, and when she nodded he popped his breathing tube back into his mouth.
The salty tang of the water stirred memories inside him. A “family holiday” from long ago. Not his family, obviously. Just the people kind enough to let him pretend he belonged…until he didn’t. He’d watched Alethea strip down to her bathing suit before swimming around like a mermaid who’d returned home. She belonged in the water, and so he’d learned to swim at the ripe age of eighteen. Kosta had laughed when he’d hovered at the edge of the boat, terrified in the same way Marianna had been a moment ago. He’d pushed young Nico in, taking the “sink or swim” approach he used when teaching him to play the stock market. The man could be harsh, imbued with what they’d now call “toxic masculinity” born of a different era, but despite those faults he’d also been the only person to ever give Nico a chance.
The water blurred in front of his eyes. He hadn’t allowed himself to mourn Kosta’s death, but here in the anonymity of the ocean, tears pricked his eyes. Up ahead, Marianna swam close to the surface, not letting her breathing tube dip. She was cautious but curious, chasing this fish and that until they neared a slight curve in the earth below the water. There were a few cave formations in this area. They followed the rocks, coming across of smattering of bright red starfish. Marianna’s head whipped around to Nico, her eyes wide and finger pointing.
Her excitement made him smile. Why had it been so long since he’d come here? He made a promise to himself then that it wouldn’t be so long next time, that as soon as the baby was
old enough he’d teach them about the hidden world he’d been plunged into all those years ago.
He had no idea how long they swam for. In truth, he could have watched Marianna’s feet kicking ahead of him all day long. Every time she found something of interest, she called him over, gesturing and often forcing him to pop his head out of the water so she could tell him what she was thinking. Regardless of how they’d come to be in this position, he had no doubt then that she would be an incredible mother. Her excitement was contagious, and soon he found himself mimicking her, pointing things out and chasing fish himself.
By the time they made it back to dry land they were both wrinkled and tired, but happy. Nico couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt so…unburdened. Which was ridiculous. He was about to enter something which was difficult for people in a supporting, loving relationship, let alone for two strangers.
“I’m starving,” Marianna proclaimed as they wrapped towels around themselves and headed away from the boat. “And I remember you saying something about ice cream.”
“This way.” He directed them toward a set of stairs that led away from the beach, atop which was perched only the best ice cream in all of Corfu.
While they waited in line for their ice cream, Marianna chatted happily to a French couple ahead of them. The sound of Marianna’s melodic voice transformed by the lyrical language was a delight to his ears.
“So you speak French?” he asked as they found a seat.
“Oui, mon français est excellent,” she said with a cheeky smirk. “I speak English, je parle français, parlo italiano, hablo español, and ich spreche Deutsch.”
He made a snorting sound. “Show-off.”
“Why wouldn’t I show off? It’s impressive.” She grinned as he rolled his eyes. It was clear she enjoyed pushing his buttons. “I can also carry on basic conversation in Portuguese, Indonesian, Russian, Japanese, Vietnamese, and Mandarin. Though I find the tonal languages to be quite a challenge.”
“Greek never interested you?”
Her tongue darted out to swipe at the chocolate ice cream sitting atop a perfectly shaped cone, and he swallowed. The way she did that reminded him of how she’d kissed him in his pool and at the party. Of how sweet and honeyed she tasted, like a sticky pastry.
Do you want to try and hide a hard-on in board shorts? No. Then stop thinking about her mouth.
Marianna nodded. “It’s always been on my list. Fun fact: Melbourne has one of the largest Greek-speaking populations of any city outside Greece.”
He studied her for a moment. “How did you learn so many languages?”
“I started learning Italian and German when I was in primary school. After that, I started teaching myself and doing online courses. We couldn’t afford to travel after my mother died…” She paused, swallowing, and his heart wrenched in his chest. “My older brothers took care of us younger ones, but they didn’t earn much. We never took holidays. Never left the country. In fact, when I came to Greece for my brother’s meeting, it was the first time I’d ever left Australia. Languages were the only way I ever thought I’d get to experience the rest of the world.”
“And now here you are, living on an island in the Ionian Sea.”
“In a totally unexpected way,” she said. “I’m looking at the silver lining of this whole situation. I am doing what I’ve always wanted…in a roundabout way. I do want to work, though. I’ve given up my studies to come here and I don’t want to lose that passion.”
“There’s a language center in town. Maybe you could teach English.”
“Do you think they would be interested in me?” she asked.
“I honestly can’t see why anyone wouldn’t be interested in you.” He found himself believing every single word.
She blushed and bit into her ice cream cone. “What about you? What do you want to do with your life?”
Until recently, that answer had been crystal clear. More of the same. Growing his business and keeping busy was priority number one. But now it sounded so woefully underwhelming compared to her dreams and desires. She was excited by life’s opportunities.
“Maybe I should learn another language,” he said.
“I could teach you!” She bounced on her seat. “That would be so fun. We could spend time together, and I can teach you everything I know.”
You’re not supposed to be concerned with spending time together.
It wasn’t that. A wife fluent in so many languages, with knowledge of immigration statistics and cultures, would be a useful thing in business. Learning another language would be good for his work. Not to mention he could take her on business trips. She would charm the pants off any of the men he dealt with around the world. She was an asset, only he hadn’t realized it until now. But it had nothing—absolutely nothing—to do with him developing feelings for her.
Chapter Twelve
In the two weeks following the “honeymoon at home” activities, Marianna had explored Corfu Town further. Nico’s comments about her language skills had stirred something in her, a desire to find a way to bring her passion for language into her new life. After an encouraging meeting with the manager of the language center, she’d secured herself a “trial” session teaching English to business owners wanting to improve their service for tourists. Overjoyed at the chance to do what she had always wanted—using language to help people improve their lives—she couldn’t wait to tell Nico.
Marianna had noticed a change after her “honeymoon” weekend, both in Nico and in herself. They’d spent the Saturday night following their eventful afternoon at the beach at an open-air restaurant eating and laughing, getting to know one another. Sunday had been a lazier day, with a trip out for a late brunch and exploring the coast on the other side of the island.
Things seemed…genuine between them. Not quite like a real relationship, but something better than mere tolerance. A burgeoning friendship. Marianna was happy with the progress, but Dion’s words rang in her ears, like a little voice telling her to watch her step: it ends with you leaving.
What the hell did Dion know? He’d grown up in a similar environment to Nico, and just because he didn’t have the same lonesome, moody reputation didn’t mean that he wasn’t damaged by it. Growing up without parents was tough; Marianna knew that better than anyone. Growing up without love…well, she could only imagine what that would do to a person.
“Marianna?” Nico’s voice rumbled in the depths of the house. An edge of annoyance tinted his words, meaning he could only be calling her name for one thing.
“I’m here.” She came out into the living room and wrapped a soft cotton shawl around her shoulders. It was a pretty, pale cream and embroidered with small red flowers and green leaves. It had belonged to her mother, and she always wore it whenever she wanted to pretend her mother was with her.
Nico stood in the middle of the room, wearing a mock irritated frown and holding a tiny ornament in his hands. “What have I told you about this?”
She eyed the porcelain cat and stifled a laugh, trying—and failing—to appear innocent. “What on earth makes you think I had anything to do with it?”
They’d made quite the game of “hide and seek” with it over the past two weeks. Marianna could barely go a day without plucking the cat from its home on the bedside table and finding new and funny places to leave it. So far, Nico had found the cat in his underwear drawer, on the banana lounge beside the pool, inside a pair of rolled-up socks, and guarding the TV remote. One day she’d even hid it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket and he hadn’t noticed until he got to work.
It was like the “traveling garden gnome” prank, and now she’d started leaving little hand-written notes signed with a drawing of a paw print.
Nico opened the note and cleared this throat. “Dear Nico. I need to roam free like my feline ancestors. I refuse to be confined by your rules. Sincerely, Gáta.”
“Sounds like he has a mind of his own,” she replied.
“You cou
ldn’t think of a better name for him than the Greek word for cat? That’s not very creative.” Nico’s lips tugged up into a smirk.
“I wouldn’t have to make up a name if you told me why the cat was so important to you.”
Marianna was curious as hell about it. For a man who seemed to have no outwardly sentimental emotions—he never joked with the staff, never seemed to get personal calls from anyone except Dion—it made the collection of items beside his bed even more fascinating. She’d confirmed the other boy in the photo was, in fact, Dion, but no further information about where it had been taken or the origin of the cat had been forthcoming.
“Stop touching my things,” he said, without any hardness to his voice. Once again, her prodding for more information went unanswered. “Oh, and something arrived for you today.”
He placed the cat and the note down on the table and handed her a package. The postage stamp brought an immediate smile to her lips. It was of a rosella, the colorful birds she’d loved back home. “I know who this is from!”
She broke the seal of the box and pulled the lid up. Inside, nestled among some shredded cardboard, were two packets of Tim Tams—original and double-coated—as well as a jar of Vegemite.
“Who’s it from?” Nico asked.
“Jules. My best friend.” She grinned and tore open one of the packets of biscuits, cheekily slipping one out and biting into the end with a moan. “I said I was feeling a little homesick and missing some of the treats I used to like. Isn’t that a sweet gesture?”
“Sounds like a good friend.” He watched her eat, his gaze locked onto her mouth. “Ready to go?”
“Mmhrmph.” She nodded, her mouth full of the chocolate treat.
Nico’s eyes brushed over her, the dark depths simmering with something new. It wasn’t the lusty look he’d given her their first—and only—time together, but it was softer than the distrusting gaze he’d used on her that first day.
“Are you driving?” she asked, brushing an errant crumb from her lips.
“Yeah, I told Lukas to go home.” He smiled, and it was like a lazy ray of sunshine. His work suit was inky dark, and his white shirt sat open at the collar, showing off the deepened tan he’d acquired over the weekend. Holy hell, the sight was enough to set her hair on fire. “It’s just us tonight.”
Beauty and the Greek Billionaire Page 12