‘No,’ he laughed softly. ‘I am not a patient man. When I see something I want I go after it.’ His frown was another storm cloud on the horizon. ‘We married quickly, privately, and before we really knew much about one another.’
Hannah tilted her head to the side, watching him. ‘You say that as though it’s a bad thing.’
‘It can be,’ he said thoughtfully.
Curiosity got the better of Hannah. ‘Was she different from what you imagined?’
Leonidas flicked his gaze to Hannah’s, his eyes showing torment. ‘I loved her.’ The words were defensive. ‘But we weren’t capable of making each other happy.’
Sympathy scored deep into Hannah’s heart.
‘I thought a baby might be the answer to that. I convinced her to fall pregnant, and by then she was so afraid of losing me I think she would have borne me a football team if I’d asked it of her.’ He shook his head from side to side, anger in the tight lines of his lips.
‘Why weren’t you happy?’ she asked curiously.
He expelled a soft sigh. ‘Neither of us was happy.’ He moved his gaze to the window, looking through it without seeing. ‘Amy loved a certain lifestyle.’
‘Money?’
He grimaced. ‘Money was not the issue. Partying was. She loved to go out, to be seen, to be adored. She fell into my brother’s crowd for a reason.’
Sympathy shifted inside Hannah’s chest. ‘And you’re not like that?’
‘I never have been. Thanos is the “playboy prince of Europe” and that suits him. He lives his life in the fast lane—life can never be loud enough, fast enough, drunk enough.’ His smile showed affection. ‘He’s a tornado. And he attracts tornados.’
‘Like Amy.’
‘Yes. Like Amy. She was much more at home with his friends. I couldn’t make her happy.’
‘But you loved her.’
A heavy beat of silence throbbed between them. ‘Yes.’ He turned to face her. ‘And I refused to let our marriage fail.’
Hannah expelled a soft sigh. ‘You can’t beat yourself up for things not having been perfect. I sometimes think life is a knot full of different threads. Some of them happy, some of them profoundly sad, but they all form a part of you.’ She pressed a finger to his chest.
Leonidas lay back and gave his fiancée the full force of his attention. ‘And you think you would have been happy with him?’
Hannah considered that for a moment. ‘I think I would have been free with Angus. Free of my aunt and uncle and their low expectations, free of Michelle’s jealousy. At least, I thought I would have been—clearly those jealousies were going to chase me into my marriage.’
‘Do you still love him?’
‘Angus?’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘The more time that passes, the more I think I didn’t ever really love him. Not as anything more than a friend. But he was the first person in a long time to tell me he loved me.’ Her lips twisted painfully. ‘He was the first person who made me feel wanted—needed. And I loved that feeling.’
‘I have something for you.’
Hannah stifled a yawn, the whirlwind, one-night trip to Paris having been both spectacular and exhausting. She placed her book down on her lap, lifting her gaze to Leonidas’s face and feeling that now familiar rolling in her stomach as her nerves exploded. Desire lurched inside her, but it was more than just a physical need.
She longed for him in every way.
‘Oh, yeah?’
‘Yes.’ He crossed the floor of the private jet, propping his hip against the broad armchair opposite her. ‘Here.’ He reached into the pocket of his shirt and pulled out a small black velvet pouch.
‘What is it?’ She took it without looking away from his face.
‘Open it.’
She did just that, sliding the tip of her finger into the pouch’s opening and reaching for the contents. It was tiny and sharp. She tipped it into her palm and smiled. Because there in her hand was the most delicate and beautiful replica of the Eiffel Tower she’d ever seen. A closer inspection showed it was made of diamonds and it was attached to a delicate chain.
‘It’s truly beautiful,’ she said, her voice cracking with emotion.
‘I thought you should always have something that brings you so much happiness right by your heart.’
Her heart! Oh, how it flipped and flopped at his thoughtful, kind words.
She felt as though she were soaring high into the heavens, right alongside the clouds outside the porthole windows of this designer jet.
She looked up at him, a smile on her face, holding the necklace out. ‘Would you mind?’
He took it from her, arranging it around her neck and clipping it into place. It was a mid-length chain so the stunning charm dangled perfectly between her breasts.
‘I love it,’ she said sincerely, looking up at him. ‘Thank you.’
His smile was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Her pulse fired inside her, but then, his smile flattened and his face assumed a serious, distracted expression. ‘You were right on the beach.’
She frowned, searching her memory.
‘You said we could make something of this marriage and you were right.’
Her stomach clenched and her heart trembled.
‘When Amy and Brax died, my heart died with them, and it’s gone—for good. I cannot offer you what I think you deserve, but I can give you enough, I think, for you to want this. For you to be happy.’ He crouched down at her feet, clutching her hands, staring into her eyes. ‘Look at the life you can lead by my side. Look at how we can raise our child.’ He lifted one of his hands to cup her cheek. ‘There is enough here to build on, just like you said. We just have to be brave enough to try.’
She felt the once foreign but now familiar sting of tears in the back of her throat. He was speaking softly, as though he were offering a great gift, but all his words did was open up a hole in her heart and make her feel as though she were falling into it completely.
There was something so final and so limiting about what he was saying, and the timing of it filled her with despair. Their trip to Paris had been so full of magic and she’d felt so wanted and cosseted, but it had all been a sales pitch, him showing her what he could give her to make this marriage appealing. Because he wanted her to be safe, he didn’t want the guilt of any harm befalling her, and because he wanted their child close. She’d seen the way he talked about Brax, the genuine love that had filled him—he’d be a great father to their daughter.
This trip hadn’t really been about her—he hadn’t brought her to Paris because he’d wanted her to see it, he’d done it because he’d wanted her to know what she could expect, being married to him. He’d thought showing her the enormous silver lining of being Mrs Leonidas Stathakis would compensate for the fact his heart ‘had died’ with his first wife and son.
She bit down on her lip, turning her face away from him without responding, not able to find any words that would express the enormous doubts that were harpooning her soul.
HANNAH HAD BUTTERFLIES in