Modern Romance November 2019 Books 5-8. Dani Collins

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      I tossed the document away and stood. Sudden weakness in my legs stopped me from moving. One hand braced on the polished wood surface, I sucked in a deep breath, attempted to bring myself under control.

      Control was essential. Over my erratic emotions. Over my wayward wife and over the belief that she should take such actions without consequence. To deprive me of my own flesh and blood…

       Why?

      The deeply visceral need to know straightened my spine.

      I found her in the smallest living room—the room farthest from my study and the one she seemed to have commandeered for herself and Andreos since her return. He lay on a mat on the floor, his fists and legs pumping with abandon as Calypso crouched over him. A few toys were strewn nearby, momentarily forgotten as mother and son indulged in a staring game of some sort. One that amused Andreos…my son.

      So babies his age did smile. They also returned their mother’s stare with rapt attention until they were tickled, then dissolved into heaps of laughter.

      Something stirred raw and powerful within me as I stared into the eyes that had seemed familiar to me from the start, even as I cautioned myself against full acceptance. The feeling intensified as I watched Calypso’s utter devotion, saw the bond between mother and son, the unit I’d been excluded from.

      The unit I wanted to belong to—

      Sensing my presence, Calypso’s gaze flew to mine, then immediately shadowed.

      Theos mou, was I really that frightful?

       ‘You can be.’

      I dismissed the uncanny sound of Neo’s voice in my head.

      Too bad. I’d given her four days to settle in. Four days of swimming in the uncharted waters of her re-entry into my life with a son…my son…in tow.

      It took me but a moment to summon Sophia, one of several household staff who’d been infatuated with Andreos since his arrival.

      To Calypso, I said, ‘We need to talk. Come with me. Sophia will look after Andreos.’

      Her clear reluctance lasted for the moment it took for her to spot the piece of paper clutched in my fist. Then she slowly rose.

      About to head back to my study, I changed my mind and headed up the stairs.

      ‘Where are we going?’

      The hint of nervousness in her voice rankled further.

      ‘Where we won’t be disturbed,’ I replied as evenly as I could manage.

      ‘But…’

      I stopped and turned. ‘Do you have a problem with being alone with me?’

      The faintest flush crept into her cheeks, but her head remained high, her gaze bold. ‘Of course not.’

      Truth be told, perhaps my suite wasn’t the best choice. Amongst everything I’d imagined might happen when I finally located my wayward wife, discovering that the chemistry that had set us aflame on our wedding night still blazed with unrelenting power was the last thing I’d expected.

      The fact that I couldn’t look at the curve of her delicate jaw without imagining trailing my lips over her smooth skin, tasting the vitality of the pulse that beat at her throat or palming her now even more ample breasts was an unwelcome annoyance that nevertheless didn’t stop my mind from wandering where it shouldn’t.

      Did unfettered pleasure still overtake her in that sizzling, unique way it had during our one coming together? Did she go out of her head with unbridled passion at the merest touch? If so, just who had been stoking that particular flame in her year-long absence?

      It took every ounce of control I had to contain my searing jealousy at the thought. Answers to those questions would come later. This was too important.

      Without stopping to further examine the wisdom of the venue, I made my way into the room.

      She followed, making a point to avoid looking at the bed as she passed through into the private living room. From my position before the fireplace I watched her take a seat and neatly fold her hands in her lap. Had her pulse not been racing in her throat I would have been fooled by her complete serenity.

      ‘He’s mine.’

      Just saying the words dragged earth-shaking emotion through me, robbing me of my next breath. That a small bundle could do that—

      ‘I told you he was.’

      There was a new defiance in her demeanour, a quiet, fiery strength that had been there a year ago but had matured now.

      ‘I’ve never lied to you.’

      ‘Then what do you call this?’ I tossed the report on the coffee table.

      She paled a little, her throat moving in another swallow. And why did I find that simple evidence that she felt something so riveting?

      ‘You were always going to know your son, Axios. I simply took a little time before informing you.’

      Rejection seared deep. ‘No. I should’ve been informed the moment you found out you were carrying my child.’

      ‘Why? So we could discuss it like a loving married couple? Or so you could treat it as another business transaction, like our arranged marriage? I’m sure you’ll forgive me for choosing neither option, since the former was a farce and the latter was unpalatable.’

      The accusation scored a direct hit, making my neck heat with another trace of guilt. Over the last year I’d gone over everything that had happened in those twenty-four hours. Accepted that perhaps I could’ve handled things differently. But was this the price I had to pay for it?

      ‘I had a right to know, Calypso.’ My voice emerged much gruffer than I’d intended. And deep inside me something like sorrow turned over.

      Her lashes swept down, but not before I spotted the sea of turmoil swelling in the blue depths. My nape tightened and my instincts blared with the notion that she was hiding something.

      ‘What if I told you that I didn’t know what I wanted?’ she asked.

      A white-hot knife sliced through me at the thought that it would have decimated me had she taken a different route than bearing my son.

      ‘Calypso…’

      Her name sounded thick on my tongue. I waited until she raised her gaze to mine.

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Regardless of this…disagreement between us, you will have my gratitude for choosing to carry our son for ever.’

      Her eyes widened in stunned surprise. ‘Um…you’re welcome,’ she murmured.

      Once again her gaze swept away from mine—a small gesture that disturbed and confounded me. And then that defiant bolt of СКАЧАТЬ