CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER TWELVE
L EX WHISTLED AS he prepared a breakfast tray next morning. Portia had slept late, and who could blame her after they’d spent so many hours awake, making love?
He, on the other hand, had woken at his usual early hour, full of vigour and optimism. As well as the satisfaction of terrific sex, he felt anticipation. Surely Portia’s decision to enjoy a physical relationship again meant things were on the right track.
Last night had felt momentous. It had felt like far more than sex.
He’d been stunned by the depth of his feelings when she said she trusted him. When she declared she wanted him. When she held his gaze as they lost themselves in each other.
A shiver tightened the skin of his neck and shoulders, shooting down his backbone before coiling into his belly.
Every instinct told him that what he wanted was within his grasp. He and Portia raising their baby together. Their own family. And if it took more time to convince her, Lex was happy to use his body to persuade her.
He pushed open the bedroom door to see her emerging from his bathroom, wearing nothing but one of his business shirts and an expression of flushed well-being that made him want to tumble her onto the bed.
‘I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to shower and didn’t want to put on last night’s dress.’
Lex put the tray on the end of the bed and strode across to her, gathering her hands and planting a possessive kiss on her mouth. That was better. The taste of her lips was more delicious than any morning coffee.
With difficulty he resisted the urge to trawl her bare thighs with his fingertips then pull her hard against him. Instead, on a shaky breath, he kissed her hands.
‘Help yourself to anything in my wardrobe. You wear it much better than I do. In fact,’ he purred, leaning in to nuzzle her scented throat, ‘let’s get rid of your clothes and you can wear mine all the time.’
Her laughter sank inside him, making the day shine brighter.
‘Come on, Ms Oakhurst. I got you a piece of freshly made tyropita from your favourite bakery. You can eat it while it’s hot.’
Portia had developed a taste for the flaky cheese pie, finding savoury food worked better at staving off incipient nausea.
But instead of moving to the bed, her fingers curled around his, gripping tight. ‘Lex, I’ve been thinking.’
He froze, searching her face. His buoyant mood dipped at the gravity of her expression.
‘You’re right. Marriage will give our baby a good start.’
‘Not just a good start, it means...’ Lex felt his eyes bulge. ‘You agree? You’ll marry me?’
He knew last night had been a breakthrough but he hadn’t expected this.
‘Yes, Lex. I’ll marry you.’
Yes! He wanted to fist pump the air. But her tentative expression said she wasn’t so elated. He hated that she’d had doubts about this and still looked wary. His fault because he’d once let her down. But now that she’d agreed he’d do everything to show her it was the right decision.
They’d build a relationship based on respect and common purpose, and attraction, of course.
Gently he kissed her, filling it with all the reverence and tenderness he felt. He cupped her face, thumbs gently brushing the fine skin of her cheeks.
She kissed him back, arms wrapping around him and he felt the last of his tension slide away, even though his heart was hammering fit to burst.
Lifting his mouth he bent his forehead to hers.
‘Thank you, Portia. You honour me with your trust.’ They weren’t mere empty words. He knew how she valued her independence. This decision hadn’t come lightly. ‘You won’t regret it, I promise. I’ll do everything I can to make you happy and to build a good life for us. For our family .’
Their family .
He’d give their child the love he’d never had when he was young. Though he had a lot to learn, he’d be the best father, the best husband.
Jubilation filled him. ‘I know you only met them last night but my family like you. They’ll be thrilled with our news.’
But not as thrilled as he was. Lex wanted to shout the news to the whole of Athens. He wanted to gather the family together and announce it today.
‘About that.’ Portia paused, her forehead wrinkling. ‘I want to wait.’
‘Wait? What for?’
The sooner they married the better as far as he was concerned. He wouldn’t feel completely at ease, he realised, till he had his ring on her finger and their marriage certificate in his hand.
‘Let’s sit.’
She led him towards the bed and sat down. The movement opened his partly buttoned shirt to reveal one slender thigh and an intriguing hint of shadow between her legs that threatened to distract him.
‘Good idea.’ As if the idea of delay didn’t bother him, or the temptation of her nearly naked body mess with his head. Deliberately he released her hand and moved away to grab a small table to put beside her, then placed the tray on it. ‘You can have your breakfast while we talk.’
Though he’d much rather ignore breakfast and her idea of delaying and simply make love to her again.
Lex gritted his teeth. He was a civilised man. Wasn’t he?
He waited until she’d taken a sip of tea and a bite of tyropita , forcing himself not to watch the way she slipped her tongue along her lips to catch an elusive crumb of filo pastry. Instead he looked towards the window and the view of the white city beyond.
‘Why delay, Portia? There’s nothing to stop us moving ahead now.’
She put the plate down and lifted one shoulder. Instead of an insouciant shrug, the gesture looked defensive. Her eyes met his and he sensed something there, something he couldn’t read.
‘Give me another six weeks before we share our news.’
‘Six weeks?’ That seemed like an inordinate amount of time. She was already two months pregnant.
Portia nodded. ‘In the meantime I’ll go back to London, to work.’
Lex scowled. ‘You don’t want to be with me?’ He’d thought everything had changed after last night and her announcement just now. ‘I’m going to be your husband. I want to be with you, look after you and the baby.’
Did he imagine she stiffened? He didn’t understand. What was wrong with him caring for their child and her?
‘Those are my conditions, Lex. I want to carry on my normal life until then. If everything is all right in six weeks’ time I’ll come to Athens or your island, wherever you’re living, and we’ll tell your family.
Flummoxed, Lex stared as she picked up her breakfast.
Watching her eat, those neat bites and those lush lips, he was reminded of the way she’d used her mouth on him last night. She’d undone him in so many ways. Yet here she was, munching away as if unmoved by the intimacies they’d shared or the bond he was so sure they’d forged.
Then it struck him. The need for secrecy. The desire to keep her job when clearly he could support her.
She was thinking about the possibility of miscarriage. If there were no baby there’d be no need to marry and she’d want to keep her job.
It was a sucker punch to his belly, winding him and making every muscle spasm. He breathed through the pain, telling himself it wouldn’t happen.
His joy dimmed.
‘You’re young, fit and healthy. The doctor was pleased with you. There’s no need to imagine—’
‘There are no guarantees with pregnancy, Lex.’ Portia spoke softly but her unsteady voice revealed anxiety. It curdled his belly because he knew there was nothing he could do to assuage it. ‘No one, not even the doctor, can be completely sure. So let’s take our time. There’s no need to rush.’
Lex exhaled slowly. ‘Okay. In a month’s time you’ll be twelve weeks through the pregnancy. Everything I’ve read says that’s when it’s most likely something could go wrong.’
‘You’ve been reading about pregnancies?’
He frowned. ‘Of course. This is important to me too.’ He’d even started dipping into parenting books.
She nodded then turned away to pour more tea. ‘Even so, I want six weeks. Then, all being well, you can tell whoever you like.’
He looked at her determined profile and knew there’d be no budging her. He understood her determination hid nervousness. The last thing he wanted to do was stress her more.
‘All right, though I have conditions of my own.’
She looked at him over the rim of her cup, brown eyes wide. For all Portia’s inner strength he saw her fragility. It made him more than ever determined.
‘First, if you’re going back to work in London, take one more week’s holiday first. You said you were owed leave. Take it now in Greece and have a good rest before returning to work. We can fly back to my island and you can relax there.’
After a second she nodded. There was even a tiny smile playing around her lips as she said, ‘That’s a condition I’m happy to accept.’
‘Good. And I’ll be there to make sure you’re okay.’
‘And that I get plenty of rest ?’
He knew by the glint in her eyes she too was thinking of the night they’d just spent together.
How much better to see that than her hunched tension thinking about the pregnancy going wrong. He’d do whatever he could to take her mind off the possibility.
He waggled his eyebrows ‘You can count on me, Portia.’
‘And your other conditions?’
‘Just one. I’ll come with you to London and we’ll live together.’
‘But I share a tiny flat and—’
‘But now we’re a couple.’ Lex paused to let that sink in. ‘We’re in this together.’
He understood her caution about telling the world she was pregnant. But he refused to be set aside for the next six weeks, coming back into her life again only when she passed the fourteen week mark. His child would survive. Portia would carry it to term. They’d marry and raise it together, perhaps have several children. He refused to countenance the alternative.
‘But your work is based in Athens.’
‘I have a great team. I can work from virtually anywhere with a bit of planning. Anyway I’ve got interests in the UK as you know. So I propose this. I’ll rent somewhere for the pair of us. Somewhere convenient to your work. We’ll spend next week on my island and then five weeks in London. Together.
‘In that time you can talk to your obstetrician about any concerns. If any issues arise, or if you’ve got any worries at all, we’ll stay in London through the whole pregnancy. I can arrange excellent support for you here but I want you to be comfortable and confident in your care.’
Portia put down her cup and twisted to face him fully. ‘You’d do that? Work out of London all that time?’
Lex reached for her hand, curling his fingers around it and stroking his thumb across the soft skin.
‘I’ll do whatever it takes, Portia. Trust me. I won’t let you down again. Ever.’
He felt a tiny shudder pass through her and caught a glimpse of emotion flit across her face. She’d already agreed to marry him yet somehow this felt more momentous. Knowing he had her trust.
At last she spoke. ‘Good. I’ll hold you to that.’
He heard the gravity in her voice but he also saw the warm glint in her eyes.
‘Excellent. Now we’ve agreed to terms we need to seal the bargain.’
She arched an eyebrow. ‘With a handshake?’
‘In the circumstances I believe a kiss is more suitable.’
Clearly Portia agreed. As he leaned towards her she lay back. He found himself leaning over her looking into bright eyes. Her expression made his heart sing.
This was going to work. Everything was going to be okay.
Everything was okay. Far more than okay. The past five weeks had passed in a haze of well-being and comfort.
That final week on Lex’s island had been paradise. Lex had been attentive, tender and passionate and Portia had felt blissfully alive, optimistic and convinced she’d made the right decision to marry him.
That had continued in London. Miraculously Lex had found a stunning Mayfair home with its own private garden less than ten minutes’ walk from the auction house.
He finished work early enough to spend the evenings with her, sometimes taking her to fabulous restaurants or galleries. Their nights were filled with such passion she felt almost as if she were sixteen again and wildly in love.
The obstetrician was happy with the baby’s progress too. Even Portia’s morning sickness had subsided.
Thirteen weeks and two days into her pregnancy and all was well.
Yet her mind raced and the tension that had settled between her shoulder blades lately had turned into a constant ache.
At the end of this week Lex would jubilantly announce her pregnancy to his family. He’d already talked about an engagement ring. Would she prefer modern or antique? Diamonds or something different?
Portia rolled one shoulder, feeling the stiffness there as she stirred bechamel sauce for the moussaka. She checked the clock. She’d left work early to attend her obstetrician’s appointment and there was still plenty of time before Lex got back from his meeting. It would be a nice surprise to share a home-cooked meal instead of dining out or ordering in something prepared by a professional chef.
Maybe she’d make dessert. It would keep her busy.
The sauce was ready. She turned it off and poured it over the moussaka. Then bit her lip when her unsteady hold resulted in a massive splat of hot sauce across the countertop and her hand.
Maybe more cooking wasn’t a good idea. Maybe she should have a relaxing bath instead.
But Portia preferred to do something that kept her mind occupied.
Thirteen weeks and two days.
Another five days until they were engaged.
It would be all right. Of course it would be all right. The wheels had fallen off her life before but this time was different.
What if it’s not? How will you cope?
The tension in her shoulders swept down her back and around, making the muscles in her abdomen spasm. She gasped and put her hand to her belly. One slow breath then another. On the third she tottered to a stool by the island bench, subsiding there while she caught her breath. The spasms stopped.
Heat prickled her hairline even as a chill enveloped her. Her heart hammered too fast and she felt tremors racking her body.
She needed to be calm. She was worrying unnecessarily. Everything would be fine.
‘Portia? You’re home?’
Lex had rung her at work to see if she’d like to go out tonight, only to be told she’d left early for some appointment. She hadn’t mentioned leaving early and he’d been surprised. These last weeks they’d shared everything.
He shook his head as he strode down the hall. She’d probably gone to get a haircut or something equally ordinary.
But his sixth sense stirred with a warning. Lately she’d had something on her mind. He hadn’t probed, not wanting to push her. But despite her sweet lovemaking and passionate kisses, he sensed moments of distraction, even tension.
Was she regretting her decision to marry him?
The idea carved a hollow through him.
They were so good together. Surely she saw that? Weeks ago he wouldn’t have questioned it but lately he’d begun to wonder. Her recent determination to fill every hour seemed almost frenetic. If it had been later in the pregnancy he’d have wondered about the nesting instinct he’d read about kicking in. But surely it was too early for that. She didn’t even look pregnant.
Apart from her lusher than usual breasts that filled his hands so perfectly.
Lex walked into the kitchen and slammed to a halt. She was perched on a high stool, a white-knuckled hand grasping the edge of the countertop and her other hand cradling her almost flat abdomen.
He was there in seconds, an arm around her back, his other hand on hers where it rested over their child. His heart was in his mouth, his words urgent.
‘What is it, Chrysi mou ? Are you sick? Light-headed?’
‘No, I’m fine. Maybe I just did a bit too much.’
With one glance he took in the cooking utensils and the large baking dish of food, but he was more concerned about the way she shivered.
‘Come and sit somewhere more comfortable.’
‘You need to put the moussaka in the oven. It’s already preheated and—’
‘We’ll worry about that later. First let’s get you settled.’
He gathered her into his arms, comforted by her warm weight against him, and carried her out towards the stairs.
‘I don’t need to go to bed.’ Her voice was sharp. ‘Just take me to the sitting room. Please.’
He took her there, planning to lower her onto a comfortable armchair. But at the last minute he changed his mind and sank down with her on his lap instead, still cradled in his arms.
Something had been wrong for days. He stood a better chance of finding out what with her here in his arms.
She didn’t try to wriggle out of his hold and his disquiet eased a little as she leaned against him. That was one thing the past weeks had cemented, their physical relationship was all he could wish for.
But it worried him that she had something on her mind, something that made her white with worry, yet didn’t share it with him.
Didn’t she yet realise he was here to support her? He’d promised to be the best husband he could.
‘Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’
She drew a shuddering breath and shook her head, her soft hair tickling his chin. ‘It’s nothing.’
Lex shuffled in his seat, moving her slightly so he could see her face better. ‘We’ve been honest with each other haven’t we, Chrysi mou ? But now you’re shutting me out. Obviously something’s wrong.’ He paused, not wanting to go on, yet needing to know. ‘Is it me? Something I’ve done?’
‘No.’ The single syllable sounded choked. ‘It’s not you.’
His stomach dropped. ‘Is it the baby?’
She stiffened, a shudder ripping through her, confirming his fears.
‘What is it?’ He fought to keep the urgency from his voice, to sound calm, though his pulse had skyrocketed. ‘Are you in pain? Are there contractions?’
Portia shook her head. ‘Nothing like that. I think the baby’s fine. The doctor said it was, just hours ago.’
She’d seen the doctor and hadn’t mentioned the appointment? His gut knotted. What did he not know?
Lex held her close, moving one hand against her in concentric circles designed to soothe. She’d stopped shivering and she leaned into his touch in a way that told him she needed comforting.
‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on?’
‘I’m sorry.’ She sat straighter, no longer leaning close, and he missed the contact. ‘It’s just me worrying over nothing.’
The hitch in her breath told him it wasn’t nothing. ‘All the more reason to tell me.’
He stroked his hand along her chin then lifted it so he could meet her eyes. They were huge in her pale face. Haunted. He wanted to cuddle her close and tell her everything would be okay. But he needed to understand.
‘Talk to me, Portia. Help me understand.’
For a moment it seemed she wasn’t going to say anything. Finally she gave a jerky nod.
‘Everything’s been going well and I keep telling myself things will turn out okay. But I’m scared. Today is thirteen weeks and two days into the pregnancy.’ She gulped in a breath that sounded like a muffled sob. ‘That’s when I lost our first child.’