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A lot of things I’d believed to be cut and dried had become nebulous in the past few weeks. The idea of marriage...of staying married, for instance...didn’t evoke the same amount of resistance it had done a year or even a month ago. As for being a father...
Thoughts of Andreos immediately soothed a fraction of the chaos inside me. My son’s existence had brought a deeper purpose to my life I wouldn’t have believed possible had I not experienced it for myself. The chance to pass on my heritage to him, to teach him about the sacrifices his grandfather had made filled a bleak corner of my soul.
As for his mother...
The warmth I’d enjoyed with her over the past few weeks, watching her joy in painting and simply basking in the unit she and Andreos presented had subtly altered, leaving me with more questions than answers. Even more acute was the feeling of exposure after revealing so much of myself and the anguish her family’s actions had caused mine.
Yes, but only one member of her family...not all of them...
My chest twinged with another sting of guilt. I’d learned from my grandfather’s mistakes, applied his good mentoring to my life and avoided the bad. Shouldn’t the same apply to Calypso? Especially when she’d been caught in the same web of greed as I had?
The urge to hash this out with her grew stronger. And yet the fear of repeating the mistakes of last year, driving her away, stopped me.
It didn’t help that over the last day or so she’d seemed under the weather, thereby curtailing any serious conversation I’d felt inclined to have or my reaching for that final resort of last resorts—tugging her into my arms in the dark of night and letting the mindless bliss of having her melt every fractious thought away.
Harmony and unstinting passion—it was a combination I would never have associated with her a few weeks ago, but I now craved to have it back.
My gaze fell on her as I entered the living area of the plane. She was chatting to one of the attendants, her alluring smile sparking heat in my bloodstream as she nodded to whatever was being said.
Unable to help myself, I let my gaze trail over her. The cream form-fitting jumpsuit caressed her luscious body from shoulder to ankle, its emphasis of her supple behind and lush breasts drying my mouth and reminding me that it had been three long days since I’d had the pleasure of her body.
T
he attendant departed, and as Calypso turned to sit I noticed the top buttons securing the front were left undone to reveal her impressive cleavage. My groin stirred harder and it was all I could do not to give a bad-tempered, frustrated groan.
I approached, dropping into the seat opposite her. She held Andreos like a buffer, her gaze stubbornly avoiding mine even though she was aware of my presence.
‘The silent treatment isn’t going to work where we’re headed. You do know that, don’t you?’
The blue eyes that finally deigned to meet mine were shadowed, her face still showing a hint of the paleness that raised an entirely new set of ruffled emotions inside me.
‘Don’t worry, Axios. I’ll put on the appropriate performance when needed.’
Even her voice had lost a trace of that passionate lustre that fired up my blood.
‘Are you all right?’ The words were pulled from a deep, needy part of me.
Her eyes widened, then she nodded abruptly and her gaze dropped to Andreos. ‘I’m fine. Just a slight...stomach ache.’
The unsettling sensation deepened, the niggling feeling that I was missing something escalating. ‘Did you take anything for it? I’ll get the attendant to bring you—’
She shook her head hastily when I reached for the intercom button, but I didn’t miss the shadow that crossed her face, the knuckles that whitened in her lap.
‘It’s... I’m fine, Ax. I think I’ll go and lie down with Andreos for a while after we take off.’
True to her word, the moment we reached cruising altitude she unbuckled herself, rose, and headed to the back of the plane with Andreos.
The urge to follow, to demand answers to the teeming questions ricocheting in my brain, was so strong I clenched my gut against the power of it.
I stayed put, forcing rationality over impulse. I had business to take care of, conference calls to make. And yet somewhere on that endless to-do list the looming issue of our agreement ticked louder.
An agreement I’d lately found myself re-examining with growing dissatisfaction.
Restlessness drove me to my feet. At the bar, I poured myself a cognac and tossed it back, hoping the bracing heat would knock some sense into me. All it did was emphasise the expanding hollow inside me and quicken this alien need demanding satisfaction.
Setting the glass down, I started to walk back to my seat—and then, unsurprised, I found myself moving towards the back of the plane.
After my soft knock elicited no response I turned the door handle. Lamps were dimmed, the window shades drawn, but still I saw them. Both asleep.
