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“Charity?” she suggested.

“I’m happy to support worthy causes.” He already did. “But I’m proud of what I’ve made of MSPM.” On that front he did feel better than enough. He wished with all his heart he could show his father what he’d made of it. “I can’t stand the idea of what I’ve built being swallowed by a competitor when I’m gone. I’d rather it went to someone who cares about it as much as I do. Someone who will continue improving and expanding, continuing the legacy.” He winced, hearing the arrogance in it, but also feeling as though he was revealing too much.

“Khristos doesn’t want to do that?”

“We’ve talked about it. He has his own career goals.”

“Your child might have other interests, too.”

“They might,” he agreed. “But at least I would have tried.”

“Now I’m jealous of you,” she admitted whimsically. “Having something intergenerational that will outlast you.”

“Isn’t that what children are?” He kicked off the wall and moved to the edge near her chair. “I can imagine you would be a very involved parent, Alia. You want to be a mother. That makes a big difference when I think about becoming a father.” She would compensate for his shortcomings, teach him how to be affectionate and generous with himself.

“Having a baby with you is not something I imagined would happen when I said I would marry you.” She tilted her head against the chair back, expression naked in the watery blue glow of the pool as she said wistfully, “But I’ve always wanted a family.”

“Now?” He was joking, harking back to what she’d asked upstairs.

He heard her swallow, then she asked softly, “Is there any reason to wait?”

* * *

Spiro planted his hands on the tiles at the edge of the pool and rose like Poseidon, water streaming off his powerful, naked frame.

As he approached her, she pressed back into the lounger, but when he reached out, he only picked up the remote that sat on the table next to her. He clicked it over his shoulder and the red light on the camera under the eave winked out. A second click filled the air with the sound of gently plucked strings and a breathy chanteuse.

He set down the remote and walked a few steps to the outdoor shower, where he stood under the spray, washing himself with a few pumps of foam from the soap dispenser. When he turned to face her, and saw her watching, he held her gaze, unabashed as his erection thickened.

What have I done? It was a panicked thought even as her blood heated with thrill. She had been thinking that there really was no reason to wait. That she did want a family and here she was, married and deeply attracted to her husband. A baby would bond her to him forever.

Now she swallowed, shy, apprehensive, while also drowning in sudden, acute yearning.

He twisted off the tap and plucked a towel from the caddie. As he rubbed it across his skin, he walked toward her.

“You need to be very sure, Alia. Because, as you can see, I am ready, willing and planning to be very thorough in my pursuit of our goal.” He dropped the towel and set his hands on the arms of her chair. “Would you rather wait? Think about it longer?”

“I…” She probably should wait, but she had already waited so long. She had waited for her own family to come find her. She had waited for a man she genuinely wanted. She had waited for this man to wake up and speak to her.

He was here, ready to give her life purpose and meaning, if she had the courage to accept it.

She darted her gaze to the black cover over the camera under the eave. “Are you sure no one can see us?”

His breath hissed out as though he’d been holding it. He swooped to catch her up, making her squeak in surprise. He cradled her against his chest as he carried her to the wide mattress in the covered cabana and set her on the bed inside it. Each of his hands reached out in turn, one, two, releasing the ties that held the curtains so they fell closed behind him as he set his knee beside hers on the mattress.

“Now I’m sure. Are you?”

She was, but her logical reasons for wanting a baby flew out of her head as the expanse of his wide shoulders blocked out what little light penetrated the thick curtains and his cool legs slid between her own.

She pressed his shoulders, saying a jagged, “Y-yes.”

He stilled. “You don’t sound sure, agapi mou.”

“Because you’re—” Big. Powerful. Aroused. “Cold.”

“Not everywhere, believe me.” He sounded amused as he grazed his lips against the edge of her jaw. “You’re nervous?”

“Weren’t you? Your first time?”