watched her walk away, his tired body stirred by the graceful way she moved while the rest of him throbbed with rejection. Funny how he’d got used to women at least wanting to marry him for his money.
Not that he’d asked Jaya to marry him. He’d been careful to phrase his question as a broad request for information, not sure why he’d brought it up when she’d said last night that she wasn’t looking for money or a ring.
Still, the fact she wasn’t even nibbling at the possibility of sharing her life with him was quite a slap.
But why would she want to tie herself to him? What did he offer besides money? He circled the globe every quarter, could barely change a diaper and was incapable of love. She was right to dismiss the mention of marriage.
It still left him hollow and empty.
Which was probably exaggerated by the fact he hadn’t slept. As Jaya disappeared into her room, he moved to stand over the sleeping babies. They looked pretty zonked, but he couldn’t take the chance of lying down on the sofa and failing to wake if they stirred. Androu was sprawled like a starfish, but Zephyr had rolled himself close to Evie.
Stealing a cushion from the sofa as a pillow, Theo settled on his side behind Zephyr then gently rested his arm across Evie’s legs and settled one hand on Androu’s knee. Reassured he’d hear and feel them if they woke, he let himself doze.
FEED, PLAY, CHANGE, swim, nap, change, read, play, change... The day was eaten up quickly with the wash, rinse, spin cycle of baby-wrangling.
“How do parents of twins manage?” he asked when Jaya returned from taking a phone call in her room. Technically he was on vacation, although his boss would definitely get an earful over how relaxing this particular one had been, but Jaya was putting out fires from downstairs at the rate of two or three an hour while minding children at the same time. “What if they have triplets? Or more? How do you manage?”
He’d given so many horsey-rides on his ankle, he would need a knee replacement, but Zephyr showed no sign of tiring.
Jaya smiled. “I wasn’t working when I first left Bali. Saranya needed me and so did her daughter. Saranya tried to hang on until I delivered, but...”
She ducked her head, taking a moment. Obviously talking about it was difficult and he had an unexpected urge to physically reach out to her. It hurt him to see her hurting, but he had his hands full and had never been one to act on impulses, especially touchy-feely ones.
Still, he was sorry he couldn’t somehow comfort her when he saw how she struggled to lift a brave face.
“By the time she passed, I was so pregnant there was no point in applying for a job. I landed this one about six months ago, but I still live with Quentin. He and I pay a neighbor to watch Bina and Zeph and spell each other off if she’s not available. Quentin’s been home for most of the year, doing research, so his schedule has been flexible. He’ll be starting a new film soon, though. He makes documentaries and the next one will take him to South America. Bina is pressing me to go with them. Saranya and Bina always lived on location with him. I’m pleased with my life here, though, and Quentin doesn’t need the money. I wish he’d stay, but he keeps saying work will take his mind off his grief.” She shrugged and added in a pained tone, “They loved each other very much.”
Theo had never wanted to fall in love and she’d just showcased another reason why it was a bad idea. Quentin’s barely suppressed rage came back to him and he felt damned sorry for the bastard.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t quit thinking about marriage.
“I’m surprised you’re not plugged into the mother ship,” Jaya teased, obviously trying to deflect from her own pain and lighten the mood. “I’ve never seen you go so long without at least one electronic device in hand.”
“Haven’t you?” he asked, taking a less than subtle stab at testing their shared memory. He was still raw from her rejection and wanted to remind her there had been something really good between them once. He wanted to know if this attraction was still burning as brightly on her side as it was on his.
She stalled in swiping across her tablet. Her cheeks, tanned to semi-sweet chocolate by their hour in the pool, seemed to darken. Her tongue flicked along her bottom lip in a betrayal of discomfiture that otherwise remained hidden behind her impassive expression and lowered lashes.
One of the unique things about Jaya was her subtlety. Where other women threw themselves at his money and position, she’d always seemed unimpressed. Not repelled or disgusted, but not moved, either. From things she’d said, he’d deduced that her cousin’s husband had supported her to a degree, but she supported herself now and sent money to her family in India. She’d started at the bottom in Makricosta’s, changing bedding and scrubbing toilets. She knew what it was to make do on a limited income, but she’d never tried to flirt or use her body to lift her circumstances or gain financial favors.
When it came to her womanly wiles, she didn’t project any of her hidden depths of passion. Despite being pretty and keeping herself well-groomed, she made no effort to lure a man. Her sexuality was understated, not obvious at all.
He appreciated that about her, not because he was a man who thought women should hide their sexuality, but because he was a circumspect man all around. He admired anyone capable of controlling his or her basic, animal urges.
On the other hand, being one of the few people who knew firsthand her capacity for passion was an erotic secret that strained his control. Every time the word marriage whispered through his mind, the most masculine parts of him relived holding her. There’d been a couple of women since—he’d been convinced he’d never see her again and had almost been trying to inoculate himself against going after her. It hadn’t worked and seeing her again was inducing the opposite: he kept imagining a lifetime of stroking smooth, warm skin, licking dark nipples that only grew more taut and firm against his tongue, pushing naked into hot, tight depths so wet and welcoming he’d nearly died on the first thrust.
“I, um, just wondered if your sister gave you the day off so you could watch her son,” she finally said, not looking at him.
No outward acknowledgment of his leading comment. He’d pretend that wasn’t a sharp kick in the ego, even though they were long past pretending Bali hadn’t happened. Hell, he was holding the proof.
“The cruise was supposed to be a family reunion of sorts,” he explained. “Adara’s idea. All the siblings were together at my mother’s funeral, but it was hardly the time to catch up after not seeing Nic for twenty years. The cruise liner is a Makricosta hotel on a Vozaras ship so it would have been a working vacation, which is probably why Demitri was dragging his heels about showing up.”
“He’s quite the black sheep at times, isn’t he?”
“And yet our father liked him. Which is why he gets away with what he does, I suppose. No one ever told him he couldn’t.”
“He didn’t...I mean, your father never—?”
“Took a swing at him? No, I told you. Adara and I protected him. Kept him quiet when they were fighting, snuck food for him. Turned him into a spoiled brat, I suppose, but that’s better than what we went through.”
“You
