Page 72 of Marriage Masquerade

“Ah. Can I feel him kick?”

“What?”

Gemma pushed against his chest, but Nikos refused to release her. He enjoyed holding Gemma. Enjoyed being with her. These last few days couldn’t have been easy for her left alone so much, but his father wanted to be brought up to speed on the various enterprises in America. And both evenings, when he’d retired, she’d already been sound asleep.

Slowly, she turned in his embrace and took one of his hands, pressing it against the slight swelling of her abdomen. Nikos was aware of the warmth beneath his palm, of her scent filling his senses, of her hair blowing against his cheek when he leaned closer.

“It could be a girl,” she said.

Then, a slight movement beneath his palm.

“There, did you feel that?” she asked.

Touched beyond belief, he nodded and held still, longing to feel that flutter of life again. Twice more he felt something.

“So he’s going to be a soccer player.”

“Or ballet dancer,” she murmured, resting against his chest.

“This is a special gift you have given me, Gemma. Thank you.”

“No Nikos, you’ve given me a special gift. One for which I will always be grateful.”

He stepped back, annoyed at her sentiments.

“I don’t want your gratitude,” he said sharply.

She looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. “Very well,” she said stiffly. She hesitated a moment, then turned to retrace her steps. “I’m feeling tired and think I should rest this afternoon. We’ll be up late tonight.”

Nikos stood and watched her walk back toward the villa. Her head was high and her shoulders back, but he had the feeling she wasn't as confident as she appeared.

For a long moment, he watched her walk away. She had not asked him to accompany her, had not sought his company.

Was that to be the way of their marriage? Parallel lives, never connecting, never intersecting.

Gemma pushed through the gate and headed up the sandy path. Flouncing down on one of the benches, she glared at the shrubbery opposite. Things were not going well, and she hadn’t a clue what to do about it.

“Madam?”

Turning, she saw Stefanos' assistant. What was his name? Xander.

“Hello.”

“I saw you come in from a walk on the beach. You left Nikos there.”

“Yes.”

She wasn't about to let anyone know of her frustrations—especially an aide to Nikos' father. She already knew his father didn’t approve. No sense feeding that disapproval.

“Nikos is Stefanos’ oldest son. He is heir to his father’s holdings. His place will be here in Pylos when his fathers retires or dies. While that may not be for many years, Nikos will need to step up with the help and support of his family.”

Gemma nodded. “Do you think I wouldn't move here when that time comes?”

“You know nothing about our country, our customs, our traditions. I suspect you simply saw a wealthy man, captivated him with your wiles and beguiled him into marriage. This isn't what his father wished for him. But it is not too late to change things. Dissolve this absurd marriage and I’ll see that you have ample funds to live the life you hoped to live with Nikos—better, for you won't have to move here.”

“There’s not enough money in the world,” she said scornfully.

“You prefer the prestige of being married to him, is that it?”

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