Читать книгу The Greek Bachelors Collection - Rebecca Winters - Страница 24

EPILOGUE

‘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 glad, too,’ she said, wriggling up closer.

‘But I’m glad of so many things,’ he said. ‘Mainly for my beautiful wife and my equally beautiful son, who provide me with the kind of contentment I never thought existed.’ He tilted her chin with the tip of his finger, so he could see the gleam of her eyes in the moonlight. ‘I’m even glad that I’ve got a brother, although—’

‘Although Loukas has his own demons,’ she finished slowly.

‘Yes, he does. But it isn’t Loukas I’m thinking about at this moment, poulaki mou. It’s you.’ He rolled on top of her, his fingers playing with the tumble of her hair as he felt the softness of her body beneath him. ‘Because without you I would have nothing. I am who I am because of you, Ellie. You made me confront things I’d spent my life avoiding. You made me look at myself, even though I didn’t want to. I’ve learnt...’

‘What have you learnt?’ she questioned softly as his voice tailed off.

He shrugged. ‘That it’s better to face up to the truth rather than to block it out. And that feelings don’t kill you—even the very toughest ones. Everything that’s worth knowing, you have taught me and I love you for that, Ellie Sarantos—and for a million reasons more besides.’ He gave a mock glower of a frown. ‘Even though you have stubbornly refused to let me announce that particular piece of information to the world.’

He traced a thoughtful finger over the angled line of her collarbone. He had wanted to go through a second marriage ceremony—a big glitzy occasion at the Greek Cathedral in London, intended as a mark of his love for her because he felt she’d been short-changed last time. For a while Ellie had been agreeable—even consulting a wedding planner and hearing about the rival merits of a string quartet versus an old-fashioned bouzouki band for the reception. Until one morning at breakfast, she’d told him she didn’t need declarations or lavish gestures. That it was enough to know he cared, and in the private moments of their precious relationship his heartfelt words of love meant more than a truckload of confetti.

And wasn’t that another aspect of her personality which made him love her so much? That the things she cared about weren’t the things which so many people strived for. She didn’t need to put on a show or make some kind of statement. She didn’t need to prove anything. Diamonds she could take or leave, and, although she wore silky tea dresses because she knew he liked them, she was happiest in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She was still Ellie—the same straightforward, uncomplicated woman he’d first fallen for—and he wouldn’t want her any other way.

He reached for her breasts and cupped them and she made a purring little sound in the back of her throat, because she liked it. Theos, but he liked it, too. But then he liked everything about his soft and beautiful wife.

‘Shall I make love to you now?’ he questioned.

She touched her fingertips to the dark shadow of his jaw and followed it up with the slow drift of her lips. ‘Oh, yes, please,’ she whispered.

They were in the place of his birth, but they could have been anywhere. A place which had once symbolised darkness and heartbreak, but not any more. Because Ellie made everywhere feel like the home he’d never really had. Ellie breathed life into his life. He bent his head and kissed her as the night herons gathered around the lapping bay outside their window.

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