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Why had Mira been his choice? Was it simply a sop to his bruised ego, to his masculine pride, to “conquer” the woman who’d once had the gall to walk away from him?
Or was it possible, her foolish heart thudded at the mere thought, there was more?
CHAPTER NINE
ARISTOSRETURNEDTHEnext night. After four long days and nights where she’d worried herself in endless loops. Holding on to Leo’s words like a talisman.
“He married you for himself.”
His soft footfalls into the room as he passed the bed, the sounds of the shower, the faint light peeking out of the closet—everything twisted Mira into a mass of nervous anticipation. Nothing she’d done had helped her fall asleep. A part of her had wanted to escape to another bedroom, or banish him from here. Even his proximity right now felt unbearable. And yet a part of her didn’t want to be alone in some far-off bedroom, wondering if her hope was truly foolish.
Minutes later, the bed dipped under his weight, her super-aware senses immediately thrumming at his nearness. His scent soothed her and wrapped around her like the embrace she desperately wanted from him.
Fluffing her own pillow, she turned on her side and away to face the rich, impenetrable darkness of the ocean beyond the veranda.
She felt him shift on the bed, until she could feel the heat of his body like a warm blanket at her back. He’d moved closer to her. Every inch of her tightened into a ball, bracing for his touch, wishing she didn’t want it, but needing it anyway.
“I’m sorry.” The words were a hard rasp but easily given.
She considered ignoring him—for about three and a half seconds.
“For what exactly?”
“Mira, look at me.”
He didn’t touch her, even as everything about him pulled at her like the moon did the tides. She rubbed her palm softly over her belly, seeking and giving reassurance and love. “I’m too tired to discuss your sins, Aristos.”
“Sins, Mira?” Gravity weighed down his voice. “Not mistakes?”
“Mistakes are made without intending to cause hurt. You had to have known that talking like that about the babies...” she said, taking the easy way out even now, “would hurt me.”
For a long time, he didn’t answer.
A shuddering sigh followed. She felt him thrust his fingers through his hair, felt his reluctance and hesitation and his internal struggle as if they were her own. But that didn’t mean she could simply forget the pain and doubt he’d caused her in the last few days.
“You know how...savage I get around Kairos. He pushed all my buttons and I let him. I said things I never even thought about the...babies. I’m not a man who cares about legacies and...Christos, you know that about me, Mira. But there’s no excuse for the fact that those words impacted you. For that, I am sorry. More than I can say.”
He meant it. Every word.
Mira couldn’t shake the conviction nor did she want to. Neither did she miss the stark hesitation before he said “the babies.” The careful, dispassionate way he said it broke her heart a little for him. So she offered an olive branch. Turning around, she said, “I believe you.”
His fingers gripped her wrist loosely as if he meant to bring her hand to his face.
“Truth or dare, Aristos,” she whispered, invoking the one game that wasn’t a game between them but their sacred ritual. A vow that had bound them before they’d even understood their own hearts.
“Truth.”
Her gaze met his. “Are you feeling trapped?”
He frowned. “Trapped?”
“By the pregnancy? Are you having second thoughts? Because if you are, the least you can do is be up-front with me. Then I can amend my plan. Or make other plans.” Her voice shook on the last words but Mira couldn’t live in some limbo world. She’d rather know now before she was even more enmeshed in his life. Even more entangled with his heart. “Ever since I told you that it’s twins, you’ve been detached. You can’t even saybabieswithout flinching. When you did talk of them, it was as if they were stepping-stones in some game. If you want out, Aristos, this is the time to say it.”
“Mira, look at me,” he said, his fingers gripping her chin.
She did it because he left her no choice, but what she saw in the swirls of his gray eyes held her arrested. He looked angry and shocked and tormented—at himself.
“No.” The word rang around them—loud and harsh and resonant. “No, I’m not feeling trapped. No, I don’t want you to make new plans. No second thoughts. None.”
