The Greek Bachelors Collection. Rebecca Winters
heavier. Or because Loukas had cried at the last minute and it had torn at her heartstrings. But no. It was something much more prosaic than that. His fate and the fate of his brother being decided by a coin spinning in the air, until it landed on the back of her hand and she covered it with her palm. What had she thought as she’d lifted her hand to see which boy would be going with her, and which boy would be left behind? Did she find it easy to walk away from him?
‘My mother flipped a coin and I lost out,’ he said.
Another silence. A much longer one this time.
‘You know she did it because she loved you?’ she said suddenly. ‘You do realise that?’
He raised his head, barely noticing the salty prickling at the backs of his eyes. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘She did it because she loved you,’ she repeated, more fiercely. ‘She must have done. She must have been out of her head with worry—knowing that she could barely look after one baby, let alone two. And if she’d taken you both, he would have come after you. He definitely would. She must have thought your father would be glad to have been left with one son, and that he’d love you as best he could. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t—for reasons you’ll probably never know. But what you have to do, is to stop thinking that because of what happened you’re unlovable—because you aren’t. You need to accept that you’re very lovable indeed, if only you’d stop shutting people out. Our baby is going to love you, that’s for sure. And I’ve got so much love in my heart that I’m bursting to give you—if only you’ll let me. Oh, darling. Darling. It’s all right. It’s all right. Oh, Alek—come here.’ Her eyes began to blur. ‘Everything’s going to be all right.’
She put her arms around him and he did what he’d been trying not to do all day, which was to cry. He cried the tears he’d never cried before. Tears of loneliness and pain, which eventually gave way to the realisation that he was free at last. Free of the past and all its dark tentacles. He had let it go and Ellie had helped him do that.
His hand was shaking as he smoothed the pale hair away from her face and looked at her.
‘You would never do that,’ he said.
She turned her head slightly, so that she could kiss the hand which was still cupping the side of her face. ‘Do what?’
‘Leave our baby.’
She turned her head back, biting her lip, her grey eyes darkening. ‘I don’t want to judge your mother, or to compare—’
‘That wasn’t my aim,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m just stating a fact and letting myself be grateful for that fact. I’ve given you a hard time, Ellie, and a lot of women might have lost patience with me before now. Yet you didn’t. You hung on in there. You gave me strength and showed me the way.’
His question shimmered on the air as she looked into his eyes.
‘Because I love you,’ she said simply. ‘You must have realised that by now? But love sometimes means having to take a step back, because it can never flourish if there are darknesses or secrets, or things which never dare be spoken about.’
‘And I love you,’ he said, his free hand reaching out to lie possessively over the bump of their unborn child. A lump rose in his throat as he felt the powerful ripple of movement beneath. ‘I love you and our baby and I will love you both for ever. I will nurture and care for you both and never let you down. Be very certain of that, poulaki mou. I will never let you down.’
He could taste the salt from her own tears as he kissed her and did what he’d been wanting to do for so long. He lay down beside her and put his arms around her, gathering her close against his beating heart.
‘SO WHAT’S IT LIKE, being back?’ Ellie’s words seemed to float through the warm night air towards her husband. ‘Is it weird?’
Shining brightly through the unshuttered windows, the moon had turned the room into a fantasy setting of indigo and silver. Over their heads whirled a big old-fashioned fan and the sheets were rumpled around their gleaming bodies. The faint scent of sex hung in the air and mingled with the tang of the lemons squeezed into the water jug which stood beside the bed.
Ellie turned onto her side and looked at Alek, who lay beside her with his arms stretched above his head, looking a picture of blissful contentment.
This journey to Kristalothos was one they’d waited a while to make, until both of them were certain they were ready. A trip to the island home of Alek’s childhood—a place which symbolised so much of the darkness and horror of his past—was never going to be at the top of their bucket list. In fact, Ellie had been surprised when Alek had first suggested it because although their life had been hectic, it was pretty close to perfect. The birth of their son two years previously had put the seal on their happiness and Ellie had been...
She swallowed.
Frightened that going back would test their happiness and threaten to destroy it? Scared he might go back to being the secretive Alek of old who had locked her out of his heart—or that the reality of confronting his past might bring renewed bitterness?
Yes, she had thought all those things—and more. But she’d quashed her fears and entered into his plans with enthusiasm, because she’d sensed it was something he’d needed to do. Hadn’t she been the one who’d insisted you had to face your fears instead of running away from them? And perhaps there was some truth in the idea that you could never go forward until you were properly at peace with your past.
After much discussion, they had decided to leave their little boy behind in England. Young Loukas—their adored son, who they’d named after Alek’s twin brother and who had given them so much more than joy. It was the tiny tot more than anything who had been responsible for Alek’s growing ability to show emotion. Because children loved unconditionally and Alek had learnt to do the same. He had learnt that real love knew no boundaries and sometimes Ellie just sat watching him play with their little boy and her heart swelled up with so much pride and affection.
But a lively two-year-old was not an ideal companion for a cathartic trip which might be emotionally painful, which was why they’d left him behind with Bridget—who had become his honorary grandmother.
Ellie and Alek had chartered a boat from Athens, which had taken them out to his childhood island home of Kristalothos, with the vessel making a foamy trail through the wine-dark sea as they journeyed. They had arrived on a spring morning, when the wild flowers were massed over the gentle hills and the sea was crystal clear as it lapped gently against the fine white sand.
As he had looked around him with slightly dazed eyes, Alek had told her the place had changed beyond recognition. Some of the changes he’d discovered when he was making plans for their trip but seeing them with his own eyes had really driven home the fact that nothing ever stayed the same. A Greek-born hotelier named Zak Constantides had bought his father’s old fortress and razed it to the ground, putting in its place a boutique hotel, which was fast becoming as famous as his iconic London Granchester.
But Alek had chosen to rent a villa instead of staying there and Ellie was glad, because she didn’t want to spend a single night on the spot where a young boy had spent so many miserable years.
She leant across the rumpled bed and stroked her fingertips over his bronzed cheek, and her touch seemed to stir him from his pensive mood. He smiled as he reached for her and thought about her question.
What was it like being back?
Reflectively, he stroked her hair. ‘It is a bit weird,’ he admitted. ‘But it doesn’t hurt. Not any more. And I’m glad I came, because it was something I needed to do. Another ghost laid to rest. I like the fact that Zak’s hotel has brought work and prosperity to the island and that the place is no longer ruled by fear and oppression.’
‘I’m