The Greek Bachelors Collection. Rebecca Winters

The Greek Bachelors Collection - Rebecca Winters


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reasons for still avoiding men.

      Yet here she stood, vulnerable in a thin robe held closed by a slippery tie, in the presence of a virile man who could overwhelm her without even trying.

      Would he try? She sidled her gaze over his broad chest. He was wearing yesterday’s shirt that still had some of his nephew’s supper on it. That made him seem very human and normal. If he crushed her against that stained cotton, her heart would sing.

      When she glanced up, she found him staring into the part of her lapels where her upper chest was exposed. Behind the light satin of the robe, her nipples tightened. Why him, she wondered, but didn’t actually care. It was just such a delightfully good sensation to react to a man.

      With a harsh inhale, he visibly pulled himself together and looked away. “Are you still sending money home?”

      Her sensual curiosity drained away.

      “Yes.” She didn’t elaborate and deliberately put space between them, taking her coffee to the breakfast bar and positioning herself so she could see the kids if they moved. Partly it was decent child minding, but at a deeper level, she was confused and trying to figure out why she longed for Theo to make a move on her when she was still stinging from his dropping her from his life.

      “Have you told your family about Zephyr?” he asked.

      A spike of grief pierced her as fresh as the day her family had first shunned her, hanging up on her because she had dared to run away to live with Saranya, rather than stay in the ruin they all considered her life had become. “Put it this way. If you don’t acknowledge him, my cousin’s daughter and Quentin are his only support after me.”

      Silence. When she glanced back, he was scowling toward the lounge, arms folded in frustration. “There are plenty of people with old-fashioned views in America, but it still surprises me they’d ostracize you for having a baby out of wedlock.”

      She sipped her coffee, ignoring the opening to tell him it was more than that. She shouldn’t feel ashamed, but there was also the bit where she’d have to explain that the steps she’d taken to leave India weren’t entirely legal.

      “Would—”

      He didn’t continue so she dragged her gaze to his again, finding him looking something like he had that night in Bali: slightly defensive, rumpled but gorgeous in spite of it. His jaw was stubbled, his hair disheveled, but his proud bearing and those hollow cheeks above a strong jawline made him one of those men who would get better looking with age.

      There was no sign of uncertainty in his tall, solid stillness. His expression was impassive, as if he was asking after her plans for the day.

      “Would it mend fences with your family if we married?”

      He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d walked right by her yesterday at the hangar and pretended he didn’t see her. She wasn’t a romantic. After being sexually assaulted, she had quit dreaming of the perfect man sweeping her off her feet with a proposal that made her cry happy tears—except possibly if it came from him.

      Seriously, Jaya, you have to let this infatuation die.

      But one thing she knew she wanted in any marriage proposal was for love to form the underpinning of it.

      “Probably,” she answered, forcing herself to reply honestly, but the word choked her. She had to sip at her coffee to clear her voice into working order. Eyes on the sleeping cherubs, she added, “But my country is full of women who married because they felt they had no other choice. I do have a choice and I’m not interested.”

      Another thick silence.

      He had to be relieved, but she didn’t glance over to interpret what he might be thinking. Her insides ached too much, especially near her heart. If he saw it, he’d know how much she longed for something deeper from him and that could send him running again, making Zephyr suffer for her foolishness.

      For such a powerful, confident man, he was awfully gun-shy about being close to people. Given what she’d learned about him, she could see how he’d fear betrayal of the worst kind lurked behind the slightest show of warmth. His warnings against trying to fix him burned bright in her mind. It added up to a hopeless basis for a marriage so she felt compelled to douse any spark of that talk.

      “I should answer some emails while I have the chance,” she murmured, pushing herself into motion. “I won’t have much chance to work through the rest of the day.”

      Theo watched her walk away, his tired body stirred by the graceful way she moved while the rest of him throbbed with rejection. Funny how he’d got used to women at least wanting to marry him for his money.

      Not that he’d asked Jaya to marry him. He’d been careful to phrase his question as a broad request for information, not sure why he’d brought it up when she’d said last night that she wasn’t looking for money or a ring.

      Still, the fact she wasn’t even nibbling at the possibility of sharing her life with him was quite a slap.

      But why would she want to tie herself to him? What did he offer besides money? He circled the globe every quarter, could barely change a diaper and was incapable of love. She was right to dismiss the mention of marriage.

      It still left him hollow and empty.

      Which was probably exaggerated by the fact he hadn’t slept. As Jaya disappeared into her room, he moved to stand over the sleeping babies. They looked pretty zonked, but he couldn’t take the chance of lying down on the sofa and failing to wake if they stirred. Androu was sprawled like a starfish, but Zephyr had rolled himself close to Evie.

      Stealing a cushion from the sofa as a pillow, Theo settled on his side behind Zephyr then gently rested his arm across Evie’s legs and settled one hand on Androu’s knee. Reassured he’d hear and feel them if they woke, he let himself doze.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      FEED, PLAY, CHANGE, swim, nap, change, read, play, change... The day was eaten up quickly with the wash, rinse, spin cycle of baby-wrangling.

      “How do parents of twins manage?” he asked when Jaya returned from taking a phone call in her room. Technically he was on vacation, although his boss would definitely get an earful over how relaxing this particular one had been, but Jaya was putting out fires from downstairs at the rate of two or three an hour while minding children at the same time. “What if they have triplets? Or more? How do you manage?”

      He’d given so many horsey-rides on his ankle, he would need a knee replacement, but Zephyr showed no sign of tiring.

      Jaya smiled. “I wasn’t working when I first left Bali. Saranya needed me and so did her daughter. Saranya tried to hang on until I delivered, but...”

      She ducked her head, taking a moment. Obviously talking about it was difficult and he had an unexpected urge to physically reach out to her. It hurt him to see her hurting, but he had his hands full and had never been one to act on impulses, especially touchy-feely ones.

      Still, he was sorry he couldn’t somehow comfort her when he saw how she struggled to lift a brave face.

      “By the time she passed, I was so pregnant there was no point in applying for a job. I landed this one about six months ago, but I still live with Quentin. He and I pay a neighbor to watch Bina and Zeph and spell each other off if she’s not available. Quentin’s been home for most of the year, doing research, so his schedule has been flexible. He’ll be starting a new film soon, though. He makes documentaries and the next one will take him to South America. Bina is pressing me to go with them. Saranya and Bina always lived on location with him. I’m pleased with my life here, though, and Quentin doesn’t need the money. I wish he’d stay, but he keeps saying work will take his mind off his grief.” She shrugged and added in a pained tone, “They loved each other very much.”

      Theo had never wanted to fall in love


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