Greek Bachelors: In Need Of A Wife: Christakis's Rebellious Wife / Greek Tycoon, Waitress Wife / The Mediterranean's Wife by Contract

Considering that ‘later’ had never come around a week ago, looking was the only sensual pleasure she had, Betsy reflected, tensing at the thought and the feelings of hurt and rejection it evoked. For some reason, Nik had backed away from the idea of intimacy. Not only did he cart her up and downstairs with the detachment of a block of wood but he had also chosen to sleep in the bedroom next door. His retreat on that front had taken Betsy by surprise because Nik had always been very highly sexed. Even worse from her point of view, her body was awash with hormones and raring to go with an enthusiasm she had never experienced before.

She remembered that sexy little interlude on the evening of their arrival and breathed in deep and slow to cool her rising temperature. What had changed for Nik since that night? Did the very fact that she was pregnant make her less attractive on his terms? She supposed that was perfectly possible, particularly to a male who had never wanted children. Now that children were on the way, Nik might be ready to take responsibility as a parent but who was to say how he really felt about the development? A man wasn’t committed simply because he said and did the right things. It was even possible that her less than enthusiastic reaction to the offer of reconciliation had annoyed and offended him. Nik was a proud man. He had tried to build a bridge between them and she was still standing frozen in the middle of that bridge, moving neither forward nor back, paralysed by indecision and terrified of doing the wrong thing.

Yet he had given her every opportunity to discuss her insecurities. Only, when had deep, meaningful conversations ever worked with Nik? When he didn’t talk back it was a waste of her breath and when he brooded in silence she felt even worse. And when, as now, he might feel that for the sake of her health and peace of mind he had to tell her whatever she wanted to hear, how likely was it that he would feel that he could be honest? Throughout the week, Nik had displayed endless concern about her well-being. Fortunately her appetite had returned and she was sleeping soundly again, pleasantly tired after daily swimming sessions and walks on the beach. But the emergency, such as it had been, was over now and he needed to accept that and stop treating her like an invalid.

Tossing his phone down on the table, Nik came to a sudden halt in front of her. His wide, sensual mouth compressed. ‘Look, if Belle’s party is that important to you, we’ll leave tomorrow,’ he delivered grimly. ‘But I don’t agree with it—’

Surprise and pleasure darted through Betsy that he had given way. He might not understand the depth of her friendship with Cristo and Belle but he was trying to respect it. Without thinking about it, she stretched up on tiptoe to link her arms round his neck. ‘You’ll enjoy seeing Cristo, and Belle told me that Zarif is trying to clear his schedule to attend as well...’

The warmth of her smile lit up her heart-shaped face. It was relatively easy to make Betsy happy; Nik had realised that a long time ago but he had fallen out of the habit. But then in the early days he had had to negotiate a welter of misapprehensions before he had found the right path. It was not the cost of the gift that mattered but the thought and the effort behind it. It could be as simple as making a phone call, regardless of how busy he was, or of sharing the minutiae of his busy day to make her feel a part of it. Back then an unexpectedly sunny morning, the random kindness of a stranger or a casual compliment could leave Betsy wreathed in smiles.

‘Oh, joy, my brother the king with the big mouth,’ Nik derided as he looked down at her and slowly closed his arms round her slight body.

Betsy groaned out loud, having forgotten that complication. ‘I think Zarif did you a favour, so cut him some slack. I had to find out about the vasectomy at some stage,’ she pointed out ruefully. ‘You had backed yourself into a corner by not telling me about it and I don’t think you knew how to get out of it.’

Nik was genuinely stunned by that shrewd assessment of his behaviour. Ebony lashes shielded his reflective gaze but his thoughts were short-circuited by the soft, full mouth pressing to the corner of his with unstudied warmth. Betsy smelled of peaches and vanilla, and every barrier he had raised against temptation was washed away as if a tidal wave had engulfed him. His hands slid down to her delicately curved hips and he hoisted her up against him and brought his mouth crashing down on hers with hungry enthusiasm.

‘Why did I have to wait so long for that?’ Betsy moaned helplessly, struggling to relocate her breath while every skin cell in her body erupted into sudden life.

Nik stiffened defensively at the question and then set her circumspectly down again. ‘Because if I can’t finish, I don’t want to start,’ he told her frankly.

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