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Through the layer of his tuxedo jacket, she felt his heart slamming hard within his rib cage. A shudder ran through his entire body.

Oh. He did feel deeply sometimes. He didn’t talk much about his father—or his mother or his childhood, for that matter. All his good memories seemed to be blocked by his knot of hatred toward his stepfather, which seemed to consume him.

Was his father’s watch cracking apart that ball of bitterness in some small way?

For the first time, she felt she brought more to this marriage than her presence as a shield against Lambros. She slid her arms around Spiro’s waist, eyes damp, chest aching.

After a long moment of crushing her, Spiro took a big, shaken breath. He eased his hold, letting one hand slide in a caress against her bare arm, keeping her close while he studied the watch.

His profile was naked for a moment, painted with the ache of loss.

“No one has ever done something so thoughtful for me.” He gathered himself behind his mask of inscrutability, but there was a deep tenderness in the way he swept a finger along her cheek and under her jaw. “Unless we count my brother finding me the bride I didn’t know I wanted.”

Oh. Real tears arrived to wet her lashes. Her smile trembled before it was crushed by his hard kiss. A thick spear of emotion thrust into her. Not just yearning to know this man better, or desire to lose herself in his kisses and caresses. It was something far less self-serving. It was love.

She was in love with her husband. She hadn’t meant to let it happen. Love meant losing herself in a way she could never recover, but the explosion of feeling was impossible to stem. It took her over, consuming her. It poured out of her as they kissed.

He released a frustrated growl as he lifted his head.

“I’m the guest speaker,” he reminded, mouth quirked with rueful irritation. “I would rather stay here and thank you properly, but that will have to wait. Ask me for anything later. I promise to give it to you.”

Your heart. She didn’t say it, but the fact she thought it—and knew deep down that it was an impossible ask—made her own stutter.

“I should fix my lipstick,” she said, dropping her gaze so he wouldn’t see the longing that brimmed up behind her eyes.

“You should,” he agreed wryly.

She lingered an extra second in the bedroom, heart sitting on a razor’s edge. Loving him was good, wasn’t it? Their child would be born into love.

On her side.

Could he love her back, though? Was he capable of it?

Because she wasn’t sure she could live in one-sided love. That’s how it had become with Yaya and she already knew how lonely that felt. She didn’t blame Yaya a bit for her condition, but Spiro wasn’t forgetting that he loved her. He simply…didn’t?

She rejoined him, thoughts still turned inward and coated in doubts.

She tried to take heart from the way he admired his watch as they traveled to the gala. He had cut himself off from his softer side in order to survive the way Lambros had treated him. She understood that, but she sometimes caught glimpses of a kinder, gentler Spiro. He was always very solicitous toward her. He held an umbrella over her as they entered the hotel, and took her hand to steady her across the slippery marble entranceway.

He was very protective, too. He nearly glared a woman to death after his speech, when they were mingling and the woman approached them.

She introduced herself as a producer from Los Angeles and said, “I’m traveling with my husband, but I’m always on the lookout for content. Are my sources correct? Were you found on a beach as a baby? That would make a compelling documentary.”

Spiro’s head went back as though this stranger had walked up and slapped him. “Did Lambros put you up to this?”

“Who?”

“My stepfather. Why would you bring that up in public like this? Surely you have people who could reach out with a more delicate touch.”

“I…”

“I don’t mind,” Alia lied, maintaining a cool smile while trying to keep Spiro from coming out of his skin. “I’m used to it.” Her story was bound to come out more broadly eventually. They had both known that. “I’m afraid that is the entire story, though,” she told the woman with aloof disinterest. “There’s nothing more to say about it.”

“You’ve never done an ancestry test?” the woman pressed. “We could couple with one of those reality shows that dig into your roots and tells you everything about your past.”

“No, thank you.”

“Find someone else to exploit. We’re going to dance.” Spiro didn’t give Alia a choice. He tugged her onto the floor and into his arms.