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“Hello, Myron. It’s been a long time. How are you?”
“Good.” He shot Paul an anxious glance.
“How’s your family? Nico must be as tall as you by now.” She got into the boat before either man had the presence of mind to assist her.
He muttered something unintelligible, sounding and looking completely unnerved. With Olympia on board the yacht, it was no wonder Myron kept flashing covert signals of distress to Paul. His behavior verified her suspicion that Andreas and Olympia were lovers.
A long time ago Andreas had denied it. Maybe he’d been telling the truth then. But it seemed things had changed in the last year.
“Here.” Myron jumped inside after her. Almost as an afterthought he suddenly rushed to hand her a life preserver to put on.
“Thank you.”
Clearly he wasn’t happy about the situation. No doubt he was hoping Paul would prevent what he viewed as a disaster when Dominique showed up on the yacht. But Paul took a seat, appear
ing oblivious to the other man’s anxiety.
Myron had no choice but to start up the motor and ferry them to the Cygnus. In a few minutes she’d climbed the stairs to the top deck. More shocked expressions on the faces of the crew greeted her vision as they discovered her identity.
The yacht was her husband’s inner sanctum, and Dominique was invading it.
Too bad.
She was still Mrs. Stamatakis.
The steward finally recovered enough to welcome her aboard. She saw no sign of Andreas or Olympia.
“May I take your things and put them in one of the guest cabins for you?”
“That’s all right, Leon. I’ll just carry them downstairs to our bedroom.”
“But—”
She left him sputtering and walked toward the steps leading to the master bedroom below.
Dominique didn’t know what she’d find, but it didn’t matter. Over the last year she’d come to realize that her feelings of inadequacy had caused her to run away from Andreas.
He’d needed her during the ugly high-publicity adultery case Olympia’s husband had brought against him. Andreas had asked her to trust him. But her emotional scars and immaturity had prevented her from staying the course.
That was why she was here. To tell him how sorry she was that she hadn’t believed in their love enough to stand by him and wait for his explanation.
Maybe it was a year too late, but she was ready to hear it now. To give their marriage the chance it deserved.
Her feet had wings as she hurried along the passageway to the master suite where she and Andreas had spent blissful nights together as newlyweds. With her heart thudding in her chest, she knocked on the door. There was no answer. She cautiously turned the handle.
A gasp escaped her throat at discovering the elegant room had been turned into a baby’s nursery, complete with a little dresser and changing table. A baby swing had been set up in front of the writing desk.
Her stunned gaze took in the baby blankets strewn on the king-sized bed. Next to it stood a crib with a mobile.
Still in the grip of shock, she put her things on one of the loveseats before tiptoeing over to the little bed.
Pressed up against the bars on his back, sound asleep, lay a dark-haired little boy in a stretchy blue suit.
Andreas’s son?
She was too late.
A giant hand squeezed her heart. She couldn’t stifle her moan in time. The sound woke up the baby. He took one look at the strange face peering down at him and burst into tears.
