Chapter Seven
PANOS WOKE STIFF and grumpy after the most uncomfortable night he’d ever spent. Surely someone had stuffed the sofa with rocks. It didn’t help that it was barely long enough for his tall frame.
Face it, you’ve rarely faced physical discomfort in your life.
Besides, it was his thoughts that had kept him from sleep, not the lack of a perfectly sprung mattress. He’d spent the night with his thoughts on rotation between Athena and Dido. And that kiss.
That kiss!
His stomach dived but his groin stirred as he relived the memory yet again. How he’d pulled back he still didn’t know. Having Dido Jones in his arms, her mouth soldered hungrily to his, had been like the combination of every secret desire, every long-repressed need.
She’d mashed her mouth against his with more enthusiasm than finesse and even that aroused him. In that moment it had felt like he’d waited for her every hour of every day of the almost three years since they’d been together.
You missed her.
He ground his teeth as he swung his legs off the sofa and sat up, scrubbing his fingers against his scalp. As if that could eradicate the truth in his brain.
He didn’t trust her, didn’t like her. But he wanted her…still.
Even when he told himself she’d used her lush body as a weapon, trying to seduce him. Yet—and this was what really disturbed him—part of him believed she’d been as thrown by that sudden eruption of passion as he. She’d looked dazed when he’d pulled back.
There’d been no lessening of his hunger for her. Despite knowing her true colours he still wanted her.
The thought of her pregnant with his child was still hard to take in, yet through the night his overstimulated brain had produced images of her, lush and round in the fullness of pregnancy, and he’d felt primally possessive.
If he hadn’t pulled back from the kiss when he had, who knew where it would have taken them. Onto this ancient sofa? Or into her bed at the end of the hall?
He’d been so aroused and so furious at feeling needy, he’d had to sit and drag out his phone, shooting off texts to his staff so she didn’t realise how close to the edge he was.
He must’ve done a reasonable job because she’d looked daggers at him, not noticing how his fingers fumbled the keys.
Letting her see how weak he was for her wasn’t an option.
But it had been one of the most difficult things he’d done.
When he’d pulled back from that kiss and she followed him, lips pouting, questing to find his mouth, he’d almost relented.
Until he remembered Athena, the bright, engaging little girl he’d never have known about if Dido Jones had her way.
It was a miracle he hadn’t swept his daughter up and taken her away then. The fury he felt at Dido’s lies was unlike anything he’d known. It would have served her right if he’d done it.
Except ripping his little girl from her conniving mother could only hurt Athena.
He could handle Dido. A life of emotional isolation ensured he had plenty of defences against those who got too close. Only he knew how dangerously near Dido came to upending his equanimity.
The only thing he didn’t understand was why she hadn’t used their child to extort money from him. Or sell her story to the tabloids. All he could think of was her obvious fear that he’d snatch Athena if he found out about her.
Could it be that once she’d had the baby, maternal love had triumphed over greed? There’d been no mistaking Dido’s terror of being parted from Athena.
His mouth firmed. He was tempted to take Athena and give Dido a taste of what it was like to miss a daughter’s love. But for Athena’s sake he wouldn’t.
Besides, Dido’s protectiveness had stirred something. Made him wonder what his life would have been like if he’d had a champion, a protector, a loving parent.
He wanted to despise her. He did despise her. Yet she’d revealed something genuine and powerful that spoke to him, made him pause.
Shaking his head, Panos reached for the trousers he’d draped over a chair. He didn’t bother with his shirt before padding barefoot into the kitchen.
The place was silent as he put coffee on to brew. Then he looked in on Athena. She was lying on her side with her back to him, but as he tiptoed in he saw her eyes were open, fixed on the mobile of colourful birds that swayed slightly in a tiny current of air.
There it was again, that feeling of breathlessness as if someone jammed a fist into his lungs. His chest was overfull as joy, disbelief and gratitude filled him.
For as long as he could remember he’d craved family.
Someone to belong to, to connect with, who didn’t care about his wealth or supposed status.
Athena represented all that but, he’d discovered in their short time together, she was so much more, something he hadn’t really thought about in his vague imaginings.
His daughter was a person in her own right. She might be tiny but she had a big personality. She was no mini version of himself or Dido. That fascinated him. He couldn’t wait to get to know her, to understand her and have her get to know him too.
He must’ve made some noise because she turned her head and looked up at him with serious eyes. Would she remember him after they’d spent such a short time together? Perhaps she’d be scared, seeing a stranger in her room.
Silently, Panos cursed his eagerness to see her. He was taking a step back when her mouth curved into a tentative smile.
Panos pitched his voice low. ‘Kalimera, Athena. Do you remember me? I’m your baba, your daddy.’ He took a step closer and her smile faded, halting him instantly.
She didn’t look nervous. He told himself that was a good sign. Racking his brain for a way to forge a connection, he remembered the nursery song from yesterday. Softly he crooned it and saw her eyes light up.
‘Dadda!’
‘That’s right,’ he said, jubilation turning his blood effervescent. ‘Your daddy. But at home in Greece we say baba. Can you say that? Baba.’
‘Babab.’ She giggled then added, ‘Dadda!’
His heart rolled over. He had no other explanation for the strange, wonderful feeling.
He knew little about being a parent but he vowed he’d be the best baba Athena could ever want or need. He had a lot of catching up to do and it was time to start.
Athena got to her knees then her feet, bouncing with excitement. Clearly his little girl was a morning person like him. The realisation brought inordinate joy. Another thing they had in common, apart from brown eyes, and a strong streak of determination.
‘You’re ready to get up now?’
‘Up, up.’ Her arms rose towards him and when he picked her up and swung her high she gurgled. ‘Up, dadda.’
Panos couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy.
* * *
Something woke Dido after a bare hour’s sleep. An unfamiliar sound. Not the soft chatter of her daughter speaking to herself. Something else.
The deep murmur of a man’s voice. Her gritty eyes snapped open and yesterday’s events rushed back in a catastrophic cascade. Instantly nausea struck, the roiling of her stomach every bit as real as when she’d had morning sickness. Now it was down to fear of what Panos would do.
He’d been incensed to discover she’d kept their daughter secret. Despite knowing it had been the best thing for her child, she understood his ire. But that didn’t excuse his intention to snatch her baby.
Panic reared. Who was he talking to?
He couldn’t, surely, have brought in someone to do the paternity test while she slept. Or was he planning to sneak off with Theeny?
She shot to her feet, still wearing yesterday’s clothes. She’d sat up at Theeny’s bedside till physical and emotional exhaustion made her try to snatch some rest.
Barefoot, she hurried towards that deep voice.
A glance at her daughter’s empty bed made her quicken her pace. But when she got to the living room she slammed to a stop, heart thundering and anger abating.
There was no stranger in the room manhandling her daughter for a paternity test. Theeny wasn’t nervous or upset. She was beaming, her face aglow with delight as she sat on her father’s leg, his broad hand supporting her as he jogged her up and down in time with the flow of his words.
Heat flushed Dido’s body as she took in his powerful form. He was half-undressed, bare-chested and barefoot. Pale morning light slanted into the room, glancing across his naked shoulder and arm, burnishing them olive gold.
Her gaze swept the clean lines of his torso, the spare strength of him, and despite her anxiety, memories slammed into her.
The smooth texture of that sweeping back, the crisp friction of dark chest hair under the pads of her fingers, and the corrugations of his washboard abdominal muscles.
How delicious it had felt, being skin to skin with him.
Dido snapped her gaze away to focus on her daughter. She was almost dancing where she sat.
Dido guessed from the rhythm that he was repeating a nursery rhyme, simple but lilting. The soft cadence of his deep voice skimmed across her flesh as he stressed a particular phrase and jigged Theeny faster before slowing again.
It didn’t matter that he spoke Greek which Theeny didn’t understand. She was totally engaged, waving her hands in time with his words, smiling in anticipation as he repeated that quick phrase that signalled her ride would change pace for a couple of beats.
There was a hollow feeling in Dido’s stomach, knowing her daughter had missed out on this because of her decisions. There was a whole different culture and language Athena had a right to and which she’d so far been denied.
Because Panos couldn’t be trusted with something as precious as Dido’s little girl.
Yet as she watched the pair she felt a little of her certainty crumble.
Just because he can amuse a child for a few minutes doesn’t mean he’d be a good role model. You know what he’s like, how harsh and unreliable. How cruel.