Читать книгу Modern Romance July 2015 Books 1-4 - Кэтти Уильямс, Maisey Yates, Cathy Williams - Страница 23

EPILOGUE

‘HAPPY?’ LOUKAS NUZZLED his mouth over Jess’s bare shoulder and felt her wriggle luxuriously.

Turning her head towards his, she smiled.

‘Totally,’ she sighed.

‘Sure?’

‘How could I not be?’ She traced his mouth with a tender finger. ‘You’re my husband and I’m your wife. Your pregnant wife.’

He saw the way that her eyes flashed with joy and that pleased him. It pleased him that he could read her so well—and that these days she was happy to let him. And he recognised you couldn’t change the past overnight. You had to work at things. No pain—no gain.

And yet the gain.

Ah, the gain.

He sighed with contentment as he stared out of the window, where the massive Greek sun was beginning its scarlet and vibrant ascendancy. The most dazzling sunrises he’d ever seen had been here, on the island where he’d been born and then taken away from as a wriggling baby, too young to remember its powdery white sands or the crystal seas after which it had been named.

Until now.

Kristalothos was one of the most beautiful places he’d ever seen, although he’d been reluctant to return at first, because it symbolised a dark time of his life. But Jess had gently persuaded him that it would be healthy to lay this particular ghost to rest.

His first trip back had been with his twin, Alek—just the two of them, when they’d stood and stared at the luxury hotel which had replaced the fortress in which Alek had grown up. It had been razed to the ground and now, as a luxury hotel, it was a place of light, not shade. And the two brothers had swum and fished, and listened to the night herons as they’d gathered around the lapping bay. And they’d talked. They’d talked long into the night, having conversations which had been over thirty years in the making.

Loukas had gone home to Jess and told her that the island was a paradise and when she’d suggested spending part of their honeymoon there during their tour of the Greek islands, he had readily agreed. He wanted to show her the place of his birth and to share it with her. He wanted to share pretty much everything with her.

He looked at the platinum and diamond wedding band which gleamed on her finger. It had been the most amazing wedding—especially for a man who didn’t like weddings. But he had liked his own. He had liked making those solemn vows and declaring to the world that Jessica Cartwright was his. She had always been his, and she would remain so for as long as he drew breath.

Hannah had been their bridesmaid—resplendent in a blue silk dress which had contrasted with her gap year tan—overjoyed to have the big brother she’d always longed for.

Alek had been his best man and his wife, Ellie, Jess’s matron of honour. And their young son, named Loukas after his uncle, had been the cute hit of the day as he had toddled down the aisle as pageboy behind the bride.

One of the first things Loukas had done was to terminate the contract on his suite at the Vinoly. He had told Jess he was prepared to work as much as possible from the west of the country, if she really wanted to stay there. But Jess had changed, just as much as he had. She hadn’t wanted to be apart from him for a second longer than she needed to be, and she’d agreed to live in London, just so long as they had a garden.

So now they were in Hampstead, with not only their own garden, but a huge heath nearby, on which they would soon be able to take their son or daughter in a big, old-fashioned pram.

‘Are you?’

Her soft voice broke into his thoughts and he stirred lazily as he met her questioning look. ‘Am I what?’

‘Happy.’

He smiled as he placed a hand over her still-flat belly and looked up into her shining eyes. ‘I love you, Jess Sarantos,’ he said. ‘I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone and you’re now my wife. Does that answer your question?’

‘It does,’ she murmured and gave a contented little wriggle as he continued to stroke her belly with that same seductive, circular movement. She closed her eyes. ‘Mmm. That’s nice. Any ideas about what you’d like to do today?’

‘More of the same,’ he said, his husky words made indistinct by the lazy pressure of his kiss. ‘Just more of the same.’

* * * * *

Read on for an extract from A TASTE OF SIN by Maggie Cox.