“I’m going to risk sounding like a boorish sensualist, but I’m glad to hear that.” His breath was hot in her ear as he spoke. She shivered at the promise in his voice, holding on to the warm sense of pleasure until she stepped into the apartment of the rich contractor. At first the gathering looked like a typical party, with clumps of people mingling, chatting, and laughing. Cocktails and little plates bearing expensive snacks were brandished, but as Iakovos introduced Harry to the host and hostess, she realized that there was one giant difference between this party and every other cocktail party: every woman here turned to look at Iakovos when he entered the room.
She thought at first that she was seeing things, but as she smiled at the balding middle-aged man whom Iakovos had said he was trying to sweeten, her eyes scanned the room, and she’d be damned if every single woman there—old, young, and everyone in between—hadn’t turned to look at the stunningly handsome man at her side.
And he was stunning. In that perfectly cut suit, Iakovos looked every inch the world’s fifth most eligible bachelor. Hell, he looked like the first most eligible bachelor to her, and evidently the women in the room weren’t about to disagree with that assessment.
“Just so you know,” she whispered to him as he escorted her across the room to meet one of the people who worked for him, “if you were suddenly to get leprosy and lose your nose, an ear, and most of your fingers, I’d still love you.”
“You don’t know what a relief it is to hear you say that,” he said, the quirking side of his mouth doing just that. “I lay sleepless the last few nights worrying about just that very thing.”
“I’m also not the teeniest bit jealous of the fact that every single woman here wants you. And yes, I mean that in a biblical sense.” She smiled brightly at the man who came up to greet Iakovos.
And she kept her word, at least until there was a flutter at the door and several people she’d met, but whose names had blurred in her mind, turned to look at her with knowing smiles that raised the hackles on her neck.
Slowly she turned around to see an elfin blonde greet the hostess, size up the room with a quick emerald-eyed glance that sharpened on Iakovos where he stood in conversation with the contractor, and shimmy her way over to them, putting a possessive hand on Iakovos’ arm.
“She’s very beautiful,” a soft voice said at Harry’s shoulder.
She turned to smile at the man who stood there. “Good evening, Dmitri. I didn’t know you were in New York. I thought Iakovos said you were taking care of some business in Greece.”
“I was. Got in this morning, just in time to make the party. Iakovos said he might give it a miss if you needed him, so I showed up since it was important that someone from the firm make an appearance.”
Harry was touched at the thought of Iakovos dragging his cousin all the way over from Greece. “I’m sorry you had to fly all the way for nothing.”
“It wasn’t for nothing. I was coming out anyway. Jake told me your good news, by the way. I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to tell you how happy I am for you both.”
“Thank you,” she said, warmed by the genuine emotion evident in his smile. “It wasn’t quite what we planned, but I think it’ll be pretty wonderful nonetheless.”
He tipped his head toward where Iakovos was leaning down to hear something the ethereal Patricia was saying. “You’re not going to let that bother you, I hope?”
“Bother me? No, not unless she steps over the line. Then I’ll make it my business to straighten her out on a few things.”
He grinned, and slid a hand behind her, giving her a little squeeze. “You know, I almost wish she would, just so I could see that, but I suppose it’s better for the business if it doesn’t happen. Have you met everyone? Do you need something to drink?”
She held up her glass of tonic water. “I’m fine, thanks, and I think I’ve met everyone. Do you think it would look very jealous of me if I was to stroll over there and accidentally spill my drink down the front of that dress she’s almost wearing?”
His laughter was loud enough that it caught the attention of several people, one of whom was Iakovos, who turned to smile at her. The smile faded from his face when he realized that Dmitri’s arm was still around her.
Harry watched with delighted amazement as Iakovos’ expression turned black. He shook off the hold tiny little Patricia had on his arm, snapping something to her as he strode toward them.
“Tell me you didn’t do that on purpose,” Harry said out of the side of her mouth.
“Of course I did. If he gives me a black eye, I expect you to get me some ice,” Dmitri answered, turning to face the wrath of Iakovos.
Harry didn’t know what Iakovos said because it was in Greek, but the look on his face had her making two mental promises—the first was that she was going to learn Greek just as soon as possible, and the second was that somehow she was going to convince him to give his cousin a raise.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Iakovos snarled to her in an undertone when Dmitri, with a little bow and a wink to her, took himself off.
“Standing here talking to your cousin. Did you have a nice chat with Patricia?”
“Not particularly. I want her to do the decorations on a hotel we’re planning to buy and remodel in the Azores. She is being difficult about it.”
“Difficult how?”
He didn’t have a chance to answer before the woman in question wiggled her way over to them. Honestly, Harry thought to herself, with that dress, and the slinky way she headed straight for Iakovos, she might just as well have stripped naked and put an OPEN FOR BUSINESS sign on her boobs.
“Iakovos, darling, is this your little wife-to-be?” The minute little blonde subjected Harry to a detailed scrutiny, making her feel the size of a linebacker. The blue gaze looked with speculation at her belly before flashing her a wholly shallow smile. “Or should I make that mother-to-be?”
“She’s both. Harry, this is Patricia. She’s worked with me for several years decorating my renovations.”
“Oh, I’ve certainly done more than just decorate your renovations,” Patricia cooed with an obvious meaning that you’d have to have been a Martian to miss. She made a little kissy face at him and ran her thumb next to his lip, murmuring, “Oh, I left a little lipstick there, darling.”
Harry had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, but she did, knowing that if she said what she wanted to say, it would just make Patricia worse.
Iakovos’ dark eyes met hers, a question in them. She kept her lips straight, but she knew he saw the smile in her eyes when he relaxed, and allowed Patricia to pull him back to the conversation with their host.
“I’m under strict instructions not ever to touch you unless you’re in danger of hurting yourself in some manner, or giving birth,” Dmitri said, returning to her side. “But he didn’t say I couldn’t talk to you. I take it you met the bane of the Papaioannou brothers? What did you think?”
“I think—” Her eyes grew wide with disbelief as she watched Patricia wrap her arms around Iakovos and pull his head down for a kiss. “Oh, it’s on now!”
“Yes, I can see that it is,” he said as she strode away from him.
“Hi,” Harry said as Iakovos forcibly detached Patricia from his person. She smiled first at him, then at the smaller woman, whom she took by the arm, and with an even brighter smile scattered around to everyone near them, she said through her teeth, “We need to have a little chat, you and I.”
“Delighted,” Patricia said, a look of venomous pleasure in her eyes as she jerked her arm out of Harry’s grasp. They moved to an empty corner of the room where Patricia spun around, her arms crossed, giving Harry a sickeningly sweet smile. “Hormones making you jealous?”
“No, my hormones make me barf right up to noon. My jealousy is reserved for people who deserve it. You aren’t one of them.”
“Miaow,” Patricia said, her face filled with scorn. “You do know that he’s not going to stick with you.”
br />
“I beg your pardon?” She couldn’t be serious, could she? Was Patricia really that stupid that she believed Harry was so jealous she had lost all ability to reason?
“Iakovos. He’s not the domesticated type, darling; he’s just not. I don’t know why he’s suddenly pretending he is, but I’ve known him for years and years and I can assure you that I’ve seen women come and go. The longest they lasted was a year . . . until he met me.” She smirked. “You obviously aren’t aware of the fact that we were an item for two years.”
“Wow,” Harry said, looking at the smaller woman with wonder in her eyes. “Two years?”
Patricia’s smirk lost a bit of wattage. “Yes.”
“So you really screwed up big time, huh?” Harry tipped her head to the side as she studied the woman.
“I—what?” Patricia straightened up, indignation making her color rise.
“Well, you must have screwed it up somehow,” Harry pointed out. “Do you know what you did to ruin everything between you? Or did you just start to bore him?”
“I didn’t bore him, and I certainly didn’t screw things up! We just decided, mutually, I’ll have you know, to take a little break from our relationship and see other people.”
Harry thought about that for a few seconds, then shook her head. “No, sorry, that just doesn’t sound like Iakovos.”
“What do you know? You’ve just been around for a few months,” Patricia snapped, her expression turning sour.
“Yes, but when I decided that I was going to spend my life with one of the world’s most eligible bachelors, I came to a few realizations. One was that he had a past that featured pretty heavily in the public eye, but that didn’t mean anything to us. I also took a look at all of the women he’d been linked with, and you know what I found out? They were all cookie cutters.”
“Cookie cutters!” Patricia sputtered.
“Yup. Every single one of them was small, blond, and had either been a model, was a model, or quite easily could have been a model.” Harry paused for a moment. “I believe you’ve done some modeling yourself?”
“Yes, but that means nothing—”
“More importantly, though, I took a good long look at Iakovos, and do you know what I found?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not,” Patricia said with a toss of her head.
“I found that he’s a man who may give the appearance of being a playboy with nothing more on his mind than having a good time with as many tiny little blondes as he can humanly bed, but in reality he’s a man who values his family. He faces his responsibilities whether he wants to or not. He cares about other people. He has a sense of humor that he hides from most people, but that is the most irresistible of all his charms.” Harry felt a little brush of air at her back. “Mind you, he’s not without his flaws. He likes mint toothpaste, for one, and he sings off-key Abba tunes in the shower, and cheats at Mario Kart.”
“I have never cheated at Mario Kart,” Iakovos said behind her as his arm slid around her waist. “You simply have no control of your car and you always end up crashing into cows.”
She turned to smile up at him.
“Having a nice time, sweetheart?” he asked her.
“Just getting to know Patricia. I think we’re done, aren’t we?” Harry asked the other woman.
She seethed and managed to snarl, “We certainly are.”
“Good,” Iakovos said, steering her toward the door. “It’s time I put you to bed.”
“You didn’t just say that,” Harry laughed as he escorted her to the door.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Iakovos said, bidding farewell to his hostess before leading Harry to the elevator.
“Oh, don’t you. Have I told you today how much I love you, Yackados Papandromeda?”
“As a matter of fact, you haven’t, Eglantine Ama-ranthe Knight.”
Harry smacked him on the arm as the elevator door opened. “Low blow, Yacky. Very low blow.”
CHAPTER 19
It took longer than Iakovos had hoped to return to Greece. The original estimate of two weeks in New York stretched to four weeks, then six, and by the time two months had passed, the weather had turned cold, and he was anxious to get Harry back to the warmth of Athens.
He did manage to do one thing while he was in New York. Two days before they were set to leave, he cornered Harry in the room in their hotel suite that she’d taken as her office.
“Eglantine,” he said, strolling into the room, purpose and determination his new bywords.
“Not now, Yacky,” she said, her fingers flying over the keyboard of her laptop. “I’m writing.”
“You’re always writing lately,” he said, frowning down at her, his eyes feasting on her beautiful face, her mane of hair pulled back in the ponytail she always wore when writing, her breasts lovely round pillows atop her swelling belly. He couldn’t help feeling a certain amount of pride at that belly. He loved it. He loved that nestled inside it were his twins, his children, the children who would be the best of them both. He loved the way she held herself now that she was so large, as if she was aware of the precious burden she carried, her wildness tamed only so long as it took to deliver them into his arms. He loved the fact that he could give her something that he’d thought was impossible outside of a lab. But most of all, he just loved her.
“That’s because I have a deadline coming up, and as usual, I’m behind.” She glanced up, giving him a narrow-lipped look. “Mostly because you keep distracting me with your thin man’s body.”
He looked down at himself. “I’m hardly thin, sweetheart. In fact, I’ve been thinking I’m going to have to go to the gym soon.”
“Oh, please. You’re just as ripped as you ever were,” she said with a disgusted curl of her lip.
“Ripped . . .” He frowned.
“It means buff. Toned. In such fabulous shape that I just want to stop writing this book that’s due in three weeks and lick every square inch of you. Besides, why would you want to go to the gym? You never did so when we were in Athens.”
“That’s because I swam every day,” he said, feeling oddly pleased by her comments. “I’m a big man, Harry. If I didn’t swim a few miles every day, I’d get fat.”
“No,” she said, pushing herself back from the desk, and coming around it with a look in her eyes that warned she was itching for an argument. She waved at her belly. “This is fat. What you are is ready for the cover of Playgirl . Not that I would let you do that, but you’re certainly prime material for it. And if you had a decent bone in your body, you’d get fat so I wouldn’t feel so huge in comparison to your buffedness.”
“If I did that, I wouldn’t be able to keep up with your sexual demands,” he said, pulling her into his arms, her hard belly pressed against him. “And that would be a shame. When are you going to marry me?”
“Before the babies are born,” she said, letting him kiss her out of her sullen mood. “But after the book is done.”
“That leaves us with two months. Are you sure you want to cut it that close?”
“Worried that we’ll have illegitimate children?” she asked, giving him an odd look.
He hesitated, not wanting to pressure her into doing something she wasn’t comfortable doing, but at the same time, needing to think of the future. “Such things are not unknown in Greece, but they are not as commonplace as here. I would not like our children to be treated with contempt because we were slow in marrying.”
She slanted a look up at him, smiled, and bit his lower lip. “All right. As soon as we get back to Athens, OK? But I don’t want a wedding. Just a civil ceremony with your close family.”
“You’re the bride,” he said, relieved she had agreed so easily.
“You sure you don’t want a big wedding?” she asked.
“I would be pleased to give you one if you wanted it, but I am perfectly happy with a civil ceremony.”
“Good.” S
he slipped out of his arms and returned to her chair and laptop.
“There’s just one more thing,” he said, turning her so she faced him. “The ring.”
She made a face. “I told you I don’t usually wear jewelry, and don’t need an engagement ring.”
“I know what you said, but if you recall, I pointed out that it’s my prerogative to give you one if it so pleases me, and it does.”
“I don’t like diamonds,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.
What a delight she was. He’d never known a woman who was so obstinately determined not to receive gifts of jewelry. He had practically had to get down on his knees to get her to accept a jade necklace that reminded him of the sea when it crashed on the rocks on the north side of his island. “And I have promised not to give you a diamond. How about an emerald?”
She made a face.
“Sapphire?”
“Meh.”
He kept his expression bland as he pulled a small box from his pocket. “How about this?”
She looked at the ring sitting inside the box, her eyes showing her interest. “That’s lovely. Is it a ruby?”
“Yes. It was my mother’s.” He took the ring out of the box and held out his hand. She put hers in it, smiling as he slid the ring onto her finger. “It’s a bit old-fashioned, and not nearly as big as I’d like you to have, but I thought you might prefer this one over others.”
“Oh, Iakovos. It’s beautiful,” she said, her eyes brightening with unshed tears. “It means so much more than something you found in a store. Thank you.”
Her kisses were sweet, but sweeter still was the knowledge that they would soon be home, and he could relax.
The first day back in Athens, Harry realized there were two problems. The first was the fact that she really did not like the penthouse apartment that was Iakovos’ home when he was in Athens, as he was for much of the year.
“The city itself, I like,” she told Elena the following day as they sat on the sun-drenched patio, sipping tea and looking over the city. “I like the noise, I like the busyness, I love the sights. . . . no, Athens isn’t the problem.”