John Drakos’s black eyes narrowed as he slowly looked over the crowd in the community-center basement.
He saw women of all ages, young and old. But where was the one he’d just traveled five thousand miles to see? He rolled back his tight shoulders beneath his tailored jacket. If the rumor he’d heard was true…
It can’t be, John told himself harshly.
And yet, because of that rumor, he’d left Athens in the middle of a hostile takeover. To find the woman who’d wrecked his peace of mind for the last year.
When he saw her, a shock pulsed through his body.
Lacey Tremaine was even more beautiful than he remembered, with her long dark hair, creamy-coffee skin and luminous brown eyes. So desirable. So alluring.
Narrowing his eyes, he went forward, barely noticing the startled eyes or whispers of the other women as he passed through the crowd. He was intent only on her.
When John reached her, he stopped. He looked down at her, towering over her with his much greater height, standing close enough to breathe in the scent of her shampoo—wildflowers and vanilla. A scent his body remembered well.
Against his will, memories flashed through him of hot days and nights. In New York. In Athens. At his family’s villa on his private Greek island. He remembered Lacey smiling up at him in the hot, steamy shower as he washed her hair, her brown eyes glowing with longing and need as he ran his hands over her naked, soapy body, his fingers sliding sensually over her slick skin—
Pushing the memory away savagely, he looked at his ex-lover.
Now Lacey’s expression was guarded. He thought he saw a glimmer of fear in her eyes, quickly replaced by anger, as she lifted her chin.
“What are you doing here, John?” He heard a slight tremor in her voice. Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. “How did you even find me?”
“Your neighbor…” For a moment, he felt dizzy, being this close to her, hearing her voice. There was a reason he’d avoided Lacey Tremaine—even the mention of her—for the last year. It hadn’t been easy. But every man had his weakness, and John Drakos was looking straight at his.
When she’d left him in Athens fourteen months before, ending their passionate months-long affair, he’d been shocked, almost bewildered. He’d sent her flowers and messages and done everything he could to win her back. But against her stony silence, his pride had eventually rebelled. He’d never tried so hard to win any woman. He’d told himself he was better off without her.
Now, looking at her beautiful face, hearing her voice and breath, all he wanted to do was take her in his arms.
Then he saw, tucked carefully behind her, almost as if she were trying to hide it, a baby stroller. He heard a baby’s soft babble. He felt a rush of emotion that almost made him stagger. His eyes narrowed.
“Is the rumor true, Lacey?” John’s voice was low, dangerous. “Did you have my baby?”
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