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‘I need to get back to Andreos.’

‘We’re not quite done, Calypso.’

About to ask what else we needed to talk about, I felt my tight throat close even further when he stepped closer. His scent curled around me, reminding me of what had happened on the sofa a short while ago. Had things really got out of hand so quickly? My body still hummed with unspent energy, and my heart hadn’t quite settled into its steady cadence.

‘I’ll come with you to visit my son.’

The throb of possessiveness in his voice sent my senses flaring wide with warning. What exactly that warning was refused to surface as we left his suite.

As it turned out it wasn’t necessary to return to the ground floor. Sophia was carefully navigating the stairs, with a sleepy Andreos in her arms. We followed her as she entered the opposite wing of the villa, where a nursery had been set up by a team of designers on the first day of my return.

Seeing us, she smiled. ‘We played for a while, but I think he’s ready for his nap, kyria,’ she said softly.

The sight of Andreos fighting a losing battle to stay awake drew a smile from my heart. Handing him over to Sophia even for such a short while had made my heart ache. I knew it would be a million times worse when I had to leave, but somehow I trusted Axios with his care. Sophia’s clear devotion to him was an added bonus.

I reached out for him but Axios stepped forward.

‘Do you mind?’ The demand was gruff but gentle.

In stunned surprise I nodded. Still smiling, Sophia handed son over to father and discreetly melted away.

The sight of Axios holding his son for the first time shouldn’t have brought a thick lump to my throat. The sight of his strong, powerful arms carefully cradling my baby, his throat moving in a convulsive swallow, shouldn’t have fired a soul-deep yearning through my body. A yearning for things to be different. For fate not to be so cruel.

Why? Did I wish for things to be different between Axios and I?

Absolutely not.

As for other yearnings—hadn’t I already been granted more than enough? I’d prayed for a healthy son and been given the child of my heart. I’d prayed for a little more time and had enjoyed almost four beautiful months.

But the thought of leaving him, even to fight for my health—

‘What’s wrong?’

I jumped, my gaze rising to see Axios watching me.

‘Am I holding him wrong?’

The touch of uncertainty in his voice caught a warm spot inside me and loosened another smile from me as I approached, unable to stop myself from reaching out, kissing Andreos’s forehead and cheek, breathing in his sweet and innocent scent.

‘No, you’re not doing anything wrong.’

Grey eyes so very similar to his son’s dropped to the now sleeping Andreos, and his chest slowly expanded in a long breath before he headed over to the brand-new, state-of-the-art cot set out for our baby.

With the utmost care he transferred Andreos from his arms to the cot, barely eliciting any protest from him. Arms thrown up beside his head in angelic abandon, Andreos slept on as his father draped a soft cotton blanket over him, drew a gentle finger down his cheek and straightened.

Still smiling, I glanced over at Axios—and my heart leapt into my throat. Gone was the gentle look he’d bestowed on his son. In its place was a bleak visage full of loss and yearning that made me gasp. Made that pulse of guilt rise again.

The sound drew his attention to me. When he took hold of my arm and steered me out of earshot I tried to think past the naked tingles his touch brought. To think how I could contain the relentless waves of turbulent emotion bent on consuming us.

‘I’d like answers to a few questions, Calypso. If you feel so inclined?’ he rasped.

Seeing no way to avoid it without collapsing the agreement I’d struck, I nodded.

His hand dropped to my wrist. ‘We’ll discuss this further over lunch.’

Lunch was an extensive selection of meze fit for a small banquet—not the intimate setting for two laid out on one of the three sun-splashed terraces.

Axios must have spotted my surprise as he pulled out my chair because he shrugged. ‘I didn’t know your preferences so I instructed the chef to prepare a large selection.’

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