Paradise: The Masters of The Order Novel Two (34 page)

They enjoyed catching up about business and Paris life. Mikalos knew all about her work with the Meszaros Foundation, which made Isabella proud. And relieved to have something meaningful to discuss with such an accomplished man, but by the time he finished grilling her about every minutia of her business plan, she kind of wished the topic hadn’t come up.

Melina smiled sympathetically while Mikalos and his never-one-to-go-easy son put her through the paces. She gave her hand a little squeeze of congratulations when they both sat back contented with what they’d heard.

Now Isabella saw the real similarity between Jacques and his father. Four words: intelligent, interested, intense and intimidating.

When the conversation shifted to news of Nicolai and Julianne, the Meszaroses shifted into Greek. There was a lot of head shaking and hand waving, but no Greek necessary to understand that Melina was not happy that her nephew hadn’t brought Julianne to Greece. Isabella felt sorry for Nicolai when he finally did, but she understood the reason for his reluctance. His father lived here. Alexi Stavros was Melina’s brother and if there was any truth to Jacques’s description of him, the two seemed exact opposites. Nicolai didn’t want Julianne to meet him. Being in the same country was even too much. Sad. Very sad.

After their meal, Jacques’s parents slipped away to allow them a private moment. Isabella leaned over and brushed her fingers though Jacques’s hair, pushing and pulling it this way and that.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for grey.”

“Bite your tongue. It’s black and it’s going to stay black.”

“Grey isn’t bad. Look at you dad. He’s completely grey and he’s hot.”

Jacques almost choked.

“What? He is. If you look like that in twenty years, I’ll be thrilled.”

“My father’s been called a lot of things, but I doubt 'hot' is one of them. You’re fearless, Isabella.”

“I married you, didn’t I?”

“That you did,
Paradis
. That you did,” he said with a laugh, then moved to the railing and rested both hands on the marble, leaning over it as he stared out at the sea. “You know, I’ve never brought a woman to meet him.”

“Never. Not one?”

“No. Only you.”

He touched her cheek, then slid his hand behind her head and pulled her toward him. She rocked against him as he tilted her head up to meet his kiss. It was gentle, soft, possessive.

“Thank you for coming with me,” he whispered against her lips. “It means more than you know.”

“Consider it another wedding gift.”

Isabella grinned to herself thinking about the gift she would give Jacques in about eight months.

Talk about life’s little surprises. She’d taken three pregnancy tests before the shock transformed into joy. Complete and utter joy. She’d stifled herself, wanting to find the perfect moment to tell Jacques, and what better place than in his family home. She opened her mouth to share the happy news, then stopped at the weight in Jacques’s eyes.

“You’re a gift, Isabella. Every moment with you.” He ran his thumb over the rings on her finger again, then turned his face to the water and slid his hands into his pockets. His lips moved as though he was going to say something else, but he didn’t.

“What is it, Jacques?” she prompted.

“Seeing my parents again, it’s got me thinking a lot of things. I want what they have, I guess I always did, just never thought I would have it. I’ve waited a long time to find you, Isabella. I don’t know what I’d do if you ever left me.”

The melancholy mood wasn’t like him.

“I won’t, Jacques. I promise.”

“That’s not a promise that either of us can make and it scares me.”

“Because of my…”

He didn’t let her finish the sentence. “No. It’s not that.” The bite in his voice shut down the topic of cancer.

“What then?”

“This is my home, Isabella. I’ve traveled so many roads from here. I never found happiness until I found a new home in you. Bringing you here completes the circle of my life. ” He shook his head in a motion of disbelief. “I have everything I ever wanted. If I died tomorrow, I would die a happy man.”

“If you died tomorrow, I would kick your ass. Then have Sabin do it and then Nicolai and then my brothers…”

He put a finger to her lips. “I’ll try to stay alive, okay?” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

She reached out, laced his fingers through his and tugged. “Talk to me, please.”

Jacques turned back to the horizon. “You know how you joked around in the car about all those bad things I might be? Well, I’m not all that good, Isabella. I’ve done a lot of awful shit, in my love life, in my business life. There’s so much I’m not proud of.”

Another tug brought his focus back to her. “You’re a good man, Jacques.”

“The way you look at me, Isabella…” He shook his head as the words floated over the ocean with his gaze. “I never want to let you down.”

Beating around the bush, looking away while he spoke, not exactly Jacques’s normal, but he did both and it made her nervous. “You could never let me down, Jacques.” She heard the quaver in her voice.

So did he. He swiveled to meet her eyes directly. “Do you want children?” The words came out quick and hard.

She fought the urge to look away and held his stare. “Yes, I do.”

Jacques broke the eye contact, running his fingers across his forehead. “I never claimed to be a good man, Isabella. You said that. What if I can’t be a good father?”

She could see him struggling with the weight of his doubt and wanted to ease his mind, but knew better than most that doubt is not something one person can take from another.

And that spells disaster.

All of her dreaming was replaced by a brewing storm. She’d been careless. Jacques said he wasn’t the marrying type. It wasn’t a leap to guess that being a daddy might not be an anticipated delight.

How am I ever going to tell him I'm pregnant now?
“You don’t want kids?” she asked with a sick feeling in her stomach.

“No.” He shook his head. “I mean, I don’t know. I know you do, Isabella. But fatherhood, I just don’t know.”

It was a good thing Jacques was so focused on that horizon, because she was sure the look on her face would have told him more than she wanted him to know. Especially after hearing him say those words. She wrapped her arms around his waist and hid her face against his shoulder. “As long as I have you, I have everything.”

“You shouldn’t have to live without, Isabella.” A dull remorse echoed in his voice.

Wetness misted her eyes. She opened her mouth to say that he would be a wonderful father and promptly closed it.

What if it isn’t only self-doubt that is holding him back? What if Jacques simply doesn’t want children?

Mikalos’s booming voice interrupted them. “Jacques, go spend some time with your Mama. She won’t steal you away from Isabella, but I know she wants her baby to herself for a while.”

Thank God for small miracles
. Isabella took full advantage of the reprieve. “Of course she does. And I would like Papa all to myself for a while too.”

Jacques pressed a quick kiss on her cheek and headed into the house.

Guess I'm not the only one who's grateful for the reprieve.

Mikalos wheeled himself across the terrace, followed by a butler who made no effort to touch the handles on the back of the wheelchair. He put a bottle of Orzo and two glasses on the table, then left with a bow.

“Come. Sit. Have a drink with me,” Mikalos said as he filled her glass, then his and raised it in the air. “
Yiamas
.”

“
Salud
.” She followed suit, but didn’t down the whole shot, only let the sweet warmth touch her lips. “
Mmm, delicioso
. We have to have this at the wedding.”

Mikalos raised the bottle to refill her glass. “You didn’t drink it,” he said with an inquisitive look. Then smiled huge and took her hand.

She suddenly felt very warm.
Does he know?

How could he know?

He didn’t know.

But as she looked into those intense eyes so similar to his son’s, she knew.

Mierda
.
He knows
.

“How long do I have to wait for my grandson?” Mikalos asked with a grin.

“Or granddaughter.
¡Joder!
Did I just say that?”

Before she could jump over the balustrade, Mikalos raised his glass again. “
Opa
! To the fire in your soul, Isabella. May it make my grandchild strong.”

He emphasized the word “child” and threw back his shot with a hearty laugh that came right from his soul. Despite being embarrassed by her filthy mouth and worried that the cat was out of the bag, that kind of laughter was infectious. She laughed along with him.

When his laughter dulled to a chuckle, Mikalos said, “You haven’t told Jacques.”

Damn, like father, like son. Both mind readers
. No way, she could keep the pregnancy a secret much longer. “Not yet.”

A hand came to her chin to lift her gaze. Mikalos stared for a long time, then said, “Why does this joy make you sad?”

She looked into those familiar copper eyes, felt the familiar connection and answered, “Jacques isn’t sure he wants children.”

The staunch response breached no argument. “Nonsense.”

“What if he decides…”

Those fingers gripped a bit tighter and those eyes burned a bit brighter. “Then you convince him that he is wrong.”

Before she could make a flip remark, like “Will do, right after I reinvent the wheel,” the conversation took another intimate turn.

“My son is not an easy man to love, Isabella. It takes a unique woman. Unique and very strong.”

Jacques was easy for her to love and the reason why made her struggle to reply.
Does Mikalos know that too?
She had the impression he did.
Uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.

“Use your strength to guide him, Isabella. You will not fail.” His eyes filled with admiration. “The love of a good woman sustains. To my grandson.” He tossed back another shot.

“Grandson?”

Isabella turned to find Jacques standing behind her. She suddenly didn’t feel strong, not strong at all. She shot to her feet so abruptly, the chair went tumbling behind her. “Jacques, we were just kidding around.”

The betrayal that ignited in Jacques's eyes stopped her lips moving.

“You’re lying.”

*****

Jacques began to pace, pulling at his hair as if that would stop the tilt-a-whirl Isabella had just thrown him on.

Pregnant! She's pregnant. Holy Mother of God
. But that little news flash wasn’t what sparked the fury. She lied.
Again!

Christ, he’d dismissed the last one, which was damn near impossible, and she did it again. Furious wasn’t the word for what he felt.

“Jacques, it just happened.”

With the words, he erupted. “No second chances, Isabella. You’ve ruined everything. You didn’t even discuss it with me, just went right ahead…”

“I didn’t plan this.” Her voice was a mixture of indignation and panic.

“Don’t lie to me,” he sneered. “How could you do this, Isabella? How? Tell me fucking how!”

“Are you accusing me of planning this?” She actually sounded offended.

“You didn’t prevent it, did you?”

Her hands flew into the air. “You
are
accusing me of planning this.”

He looked at her as if to say he wasn’t an idiot. “You wanted kids and,
Voilà
, we’ve got one. Too convenient, Isabella.” He pointed a finger at her. “We discussed birth control and you said you had it covered.”

“I did, but I had to stop taking the pill before I checked into the Institut. With everything that’s happened since, well, I forgot…”

“You forgot?” He made a sharp huffing sound. “Like you forgot to tell me you’ve rewritten my life without even asking me how I feel about it?”

Her eyes dropped to the hands twisting in front of her belly. “I only found out yesterday and…”

“We talked on the plane. We talked in the car. Hell, you made love to me last night. Nowhere in all that time could you find the decency to tell me that you’re pregnant.”

“I’m not lying to you, Jacques.”

“Because you never lie, right. You never fucking lie.”

Her tears started to fall. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry. Fuck!”

“A baby is a blessing.”

The quiet disillusionment in her voice snapped the anger into something more frightening. Fear. Bone chilling, abject, icy fear. He understood his wife. Nothing would be allowed to harm her child and she would never abandon it. When he failed as a father, she would abandon him.

“I’m going to lose you, Isabella,” he muttered more to himself than to her.