LITMIR.BIZ

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the facts, and the truth was that Teddie had neither challenged the modest settlement she’d received at the time of their divorce—a settlement which had obviously not included raising George—or pursued him for more money.

      In fact she had successfully supported both herself and their son without him, and reluctantly, he found himself contemplating the astonishing possibility that he might actually have misjudged Teddie. That maybe he’d cut and pasted his parents’ mismatched and unhappy relationship onto his own marriage, making the facts fit the theory.

      But what were the facts about his ex-wife? What did he really know about Teddie?

      He breathed out slowly and started walking towards the door. Judging by that conversation on the plane, not as much as he’d thought he did. Or as much as he should.

      Teddie had been his wife. He might not remember his vows word for word—there had been too much adrenaline in his blood, and a sense of standing on the edge of a cliff—but surely her husband should have been the person who knew her best.

      Thinking about her baffling remarks on the plane, he felt his shoulders tense.

      Yesterday she’d as good as admitted that she wanted him—why, then, had she held back? And what had she meant by telling him that she couldn’t have everything she wanted?

      He felt his heartbeat slow.

      In principle, this holiday was supposed to be all about getting to know his son, but clearly he needed to get to know his ex-wife as well. In fact it wasn’t just a need—he wanted to get to know Teddie, to get close to her.

      His legs stopped moving, and something exploded inside his chest like a firecracker as he realised that he wasn’t just talking about her body. No, what really fascinated him about his beautiful, infuriating, mysterious ex-wife was her mind.

      His heartbeat doubled, a flare of excitement catching him off-guard.

      Last time they hadn’t got to know each other as people. It hadn’t been that kind of relationship, or even any relationship really—just desire, raw and intoxicating as moonshine.

      Marriage had been the furthest thought from his mind. Even now he didn’t understand why he’d done it. Watching his father be taken for a fool should have been warning enough to steer clear of matrimony, but Teddie had slipped past his defences.

      And now she was the mother of his child, and the logical and necessary consequence of that fact was that they should remarry, for it was his job to take care of his child and the mother of his child.

      Only, this time it would be different—more like a business deal. There would be no messy emotions or expectations. He would set the boundaries, and there would be no overstepping them, and then he would have it all—a global business empire, a beautiful wife and a son.

      All he needed to do now was convince Teddie to give him a second chance.

      He blew out a breath. Judging by her continued resistance to even the possibility of renewing their relationship, that was going to be something of a challenge—particularly as he didn’t know where or how to start.

      But so what if he didn’t have all the answers? What he did know for certain was that as of now he was going to do whatever it took to find out what made Teddie Taylor tick.

      And, feeling calmer than he had in days, he started walking towards the door again.

      * * *

      ‘Wait a minute, George.’ Turning her son gently to face her, Teddie rubbed sunscreen into the soft skin of his arms, marvelling as she did every morning that she’d had anything to do with producing this beautiful little human.

      His small face was turned up towards hers, the dark eyes watching her trustingly, and she felt her heart contract not only with love but at the knowledge that she had never felt as her son did. He had been raised to feel secure in a world where he was loved and protected. Whereas she had known nothing but a life spent in flux, with parents who had been absent either in body or mind.

      She thought about herself at the same age. Of her mother, drifting through the house in a haze of painkillers, barely registering her small daughter. And then she thought of herself a few years later, at school, when her constant fear had been that her mother’s fixed smile and narcotised stare would be obvious to others.

      It had felt like a dead weight inside her chest, a burden without respite—for of course her father had been away, his wife and daughter no match for whatever get-rich-quick scheme he had been chasing.

      ‘Mommy, are we going in the pool now?’

      ‘We are.’ She smiled down at her son’s excited face. He had been talking about nothing else since he’d woken up. ‘Just let me find your hat.’

      He frowned. ‘I don’t want to wear it.’

      ‘I know,’ she said calmly. ‘But it’s hot outside and you need to protect your head. I’m going to be wearing my hat.’ She pointed to the oversized straw hat she’d seen and then impulse-bought in a shop on her way home from work.

      George stared up at her. ‘Does Aristo have a hat too?’

      Her smile stiffened. ‘I don’t know. He might do.’

      Looking down into her son’s dark eyes—eyes that so resembled his father’s—Teddie felt her stomach flip over, as it did every single time George mentioned Aristo’s name.

      But it was a small price to pay for being permitted into paradise, she thought, closing the tube of sunscreen as she glanced at the view from her window. The island was beautiful. Although just an hour by motorboat from the mainland, it felt otherworldly, mythical.

      It was a wisp of land with bleached sandy beaches and coves, and luminous turquoise water so clear you could see every ripple on the seabed. The villa itself looked like something you might read about in one of those glossy lifestyle magazines, dazzling white beneath the fierce sunlight. There were views everywhere of the sky and sea, and occasional glimpses of the elliptically-shaped pool—blue on blue on blue. And if all that wasn’t enough, there was a garden filled with fruit trees and the drowsy hum of bees.

      It was untouched and timeless, and in another life she could have imagined switching off and losing herself in its raw, unpolished beauty and sage-scented air.

      But, despite the sun-drenched peace of her surroundings, and her own composed appearance, she felt anything but calm.

      She’d woken early from a dream—something familiar but imprecise—and it had taken her a wild moment to remember where she was. Lying back against the pressed white linen pillowcase, she had steadied her breathing. Her restless mind, though, had proved harder to soothe.

      Ever since she’d walked out of Aristo’s office she’d been trying to come to terms with everything that had happened and how she was feeling about it.

      Or, more specifically, how she was feeling about the man who had just barged back into her life—for, as much as she’d have liked to pretend otherwise, it wasn’t this heavenly island that was dominating her thoughts but her ex-husband.

      Perhaps, though, that was progress of a sort. For at least now she could admit, even if only to herself, that Aristo had always been in the background of her life.

      Of course she’d wanted to forget him. She’d tried hard to make it appear as though he’d never existed. And outwardly she’d succeeded. She had a job and friends and an apartment, and they were all separate from her life with Aristo. But she could see now that her unresolved feelings for him had continued to influence the way she lived. Why else had she kept every other man except Elliot at a distance? Even the sweet single dads she met at nursery.

      Her fingers tightened around the sunscreen.

      Not that it would have made any difference if she’d welcomed them with open arms. What man was ever going to be able to match Aristotle Leonidas? He had shaped her life and he was an impossible act to follow on so many

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