A Perfect Love: International Billionaires VI: The Greeks (12 page)

“We need to keep this area chilly,” Rafe had said moments ago as he’d ushered the twins, his mother and sister and Tam into the medical section. “This is where we run various experiments that react poorly to heat.”

She peered into one room, stunned again at the high-tech machinery and white coated scientists peering into microscopes and busily typing into wide-screened computers. Everything gleamed with icy superiority. Whitewashed walls curved above them as they kept walking up and up the slanted walkway. She felt as if she were hiking into a space tube.

“So what are they doing here?” Aarōn stared into a particularly large room staffed with a dozen people.

Rafe stopped his march with an abrupt jerk. He’d wanted to show all of them his work. He’d been clear about that and almost seemed excited about the outing. His mother and sister had admitted they hadn’t been to his new facility and were glad to take the time to go on the tour with the boys and herself. But ever since they’d tumbled into the limo—the twins, his mother, Rhachel, and Tamsin herself—he’d grown quiet.

Why?

Tam watched as he turned and moved slowly to Aarōn’s side. Now that she had a second to analyze this outing so far, it had seemed as if he marched through his building like he wanted to finish the tour in less than five minutes.

Why?

“They are testing a new product I’m thinking of investing in.” Rafe’s voice was as cool as the air around them.

“What’s the product?” Isaák piped in.

“A microscopic enzyme that can be injected into cancer patients.” Finally, for the first time since they’d left his home, the edge of Rafe’s mouth lifted in a smile. “It’s used with a neuron-electronic device that we’re also testing.”

Aarōn cocked his head, disbelief crossing his face. “An injection? Like a shot?”

“I hate shots.” His brother frowned.

“You’d want this shot if you had cancer.” Their uncle’s smile turned into a grimace. “At least, I believe you would. We still have to run more tests.”

“I don’t get it.”

Rafe stared at his eldest nephew. “If the tests come back the way I hope, it will show these microscopic enzymes will kill the cancer. No need for surgery or radiation or chemotherapy.”

“Wow!”

The man kept his eyes on Aarōn even though Isaák had started dancing around his uncle in excitement. “We’re not sure it works, but if it does, we’ll buy the patent.”

Aarōn nodded. “And make a ton of money.”

“Also help many, many people.” Nephele’s quiet voice insinuated into the conversation.

A look of frustration shot across her son’s face. “
Nai
,
Mi̱téra
.”

Yet the undercurrent beneath his short agreement was rejection. This was an old disagreement, Tamsin could tell. Not by anything Nephele did. The woman gazed at her son with a faint smile, her eyes mild, her stance soft and accepting. However, Rafe’s whole attitude screamed dismissal and repudiation.

Why? Why would he object to helping people when his entire being had been about helping anything and anyone years ago?

“It must take a bunch of money to run this place.” Aarōn tapped his fingers on the glass separating them from the medical scientists. “Tons.”

“
Nai
.” Rafe crossed his arms and tapped a finger on his dark suit.

“Where’d you get it?”

His uncle’s mouth tightened. “When my father died—”

Nephele took a quick breath and her daughter stepped close to her side, slipping a hand into hers.

Her son stopped and frowned, but when his mother nodded her head, he kept talking. “There wasn’t much left.”

“Yeah?” Aarōn, with typical teenage obliviousness, only wanted the story.

Tam felt the vibrations of pain coming from Nephele and Rhachel. “Aarōn, it’s not our business—”

“Actually, it is.” Rafe cut through her words, his dark scowl stopping any further protest bubbling in her throat. “The boys need to know the past so they can prepare for the future.”

“A future here?” Isaák’s black eyes widened.

“If you wish.” Leaning on the glass wall, the uncle gazed at his two instantly amazed nephews.

“Like…” Aarōn glanced back at the scientists. “Like we could run this place?”

“Raphael.” Nephele stepped in. “Tell them the past before talking about the future.”

Her son stared at her. “You are sure you can take this,
Mi̱téra
?”

“I’m sure.”

Rhachel tightened her grasp on her mother’s hand and nodded.

Rafe straightened, his gaze flashing back to Aarōn and Isaák. “After my father died, there wasn’t much left.”

The grief edging his words filled Tam’s throat with tears. The boys looked at each other before focusing again on their uncle.

“But I found a small fund apart from the family’s finances.” His mouth twisted. “The finances that had crumbled into dust.”

“A fund?” Aarōn’s question was quiet but insistent.

“Money in only my name.” Rafe ran a hand across his mouth before palming the glass wall, a slight tap of one finger plunking a soft sound into the hushed silence.

My money. My gift to my love.

She let out a short, harsh gasp.

Everyone turned to stare at her.

“Are you alright, Tamsin?” Nephele inquired, a worried expression replacing the stoic one she’d held as her son had told his tale.

“Tammy?” Isaák moved to her side and took her hand.

“I’m fine,” she managed to choke out.

Rafe gave her one of his opaque glances before continuing. “No one knew where it came from, but it couldn’t be confiscated by my father’s creditors.”

“The money was yours,” Tam whispered before she could help herself.

“
Nai.
” He leaned on the wall again; his body relaxed, his eyes hard and sharp. “I used it to start this company.”

“And saved the family home,” his sister stated with pride.

“And saved us.” Resolve shone in his mother’s eyes. “Yet, did it save you, Raphael?”

The query shot out, soft and deadly at the same time. Her son shot back a frown of more than frustration. A look of anger and annoyance. A look of simmering resentment.

“A question,” he said, a hard layer of wrath in his tone, “that is meaningless.”

A sudden rush of tears threatened to wash Tam away. Before she could betray her emotions, she jerked around and walked down the hallway.

“Tam?” Isaák’s voice followed her.

“Bathroom.” She flung over her shoulder.

Conveniently, she saw one a dozen steps later. She pushed the door open and sighed with relief when she found it empty. Swiping some tissues off the sink stand, she stared into the mirror.

This place was amazing. A sleek, well-organized machine whirring in ideal order, in impeccable synchronization. The business was a testament to the tenacious will and steely determination of its owner. Yet in the last few minutes, she’d seen so clearly, knew so surely, this wasn’t what he should be doing. The owner didn’t belong here.

Her money was the foundation for this fabulously wealthy company.

And it appeared her money had trapped Rafe into a life he wasn’t meant to live.

“
Y
ou won’t have
to worry about school clothes.” His sister’s voice was filled with sugary spite. Rhouth was at it again. “We’ll take care of that for the boys.”

Rafe sliced into the leg of lamb, breathing in the familiar spices of garlic and rosemary. He ignored the hush spreading across the family dinner table. It wasn’t his job to protect Tamsin.

“Rhouth,” his
mi̱téra’s
voice came, cool and calm. “Please pass the
patates
.”

He knew if he glanced over he would see only serenity on his mother’s face. She would ignore his sister’s attacks until she didn’t. During the last week and a half, ever since they’d arrived at the family villa, he’d seen it time after time. Nephele always came to the rescue and somehow kept smoothing over any potential minefields his sister tried to plant.

He merely had to wait.

He sliced another piece of meat.

“After all, you won’t be here when the time comes.” Rhouth had always been a child who could do more than one thing at a time. Now as a full-grown woman, the challenge of handing a plate across the table while continuing the attack was not a problem for her in the least.

“What do you mean?” Aarōn’s sharp tone cut through the last murmur of conversation coming from the end of the table. His two aunts and three uncles, Rhachel and her husband, all the children scattered along the long wooden table, everyone stopped. The hush went to silence. “Tamsin’s not going anywhere.”

He stared at his nephew. Since arriving in Greece, this was the first time either of the twins had lifted the gallant sword to defend their sister. He was quite sure this was because she’d warned them. He had caught several frowns and heard various quiet whispers from her to confirm his suspicions. But it appeared as if this time, her warnings were going to go unheeded.

Tamsin had plenty of protectors. Even if she didn’t want them.

“Aarōn.” Her face carried a slight flush, making her porcelain skin glow in the flame of the sturdy candles lining the middle of the table like a spine. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Frowning at his meal, Rafe had to give her credit. Not that he wanted to, yet he had to. She’d done precisely what she’d promised. She could have easily used Rhouth’s continued attacks to sow resentment into the boys. Easing the twins into this family, into a new way of life, could have been a golden opportunity to not only alienate them, but cause friction and tear the Vounó family apart. Instead, she’d smoothed the way, made sure Aarōn and Isaák had plenty of time with their grandmother and cousins. Made sure they found their new life full of hope and happiness.

“So true,” Rhouth said. “There’s absolutely nothing to worry about for you boys…”

Her voice trailed off, leaving a very big
but
lingering unsaid at the end.

His mother didn’t step in with a cool command or a change of subject. Instead, for some irritating reason, she said nothing.

Rafe looked down the table again.

Aarōn and Isaák were both glaring at him.

He slanted a look at his mother. She and Rhachel were staring at their meals as if their food had suddenly turned to gold.

“Rafe.” His other sister, the one who would not let things be, his other sister demanded his attention.

“
Nai
, Rhouth?” He finally glanced her way.

Her amber eyes were alive with fevered hate. It was as if the presence of her ex-best friend during the last eleven days had steadily stoked the fire of her antagonism instead of dousing it.

And it should have been doused. Tamsin willingly shared the boys. She’d gone out of her way to be friendly with the rest of the family. True, she’d spent most of her days away, searching for a damned job. But when she was around, she was always charming and cordial.

Exactly as she’d been as a young girl.

The memories threatened to swamp him, just as they’d done for days on end. Watching Tamsin interact with his family had brought back the good memories he’d determinedly buried so long ago.

“Tell them, Rafe.” Rhouth’s expression beamed with heated delight. “It’s really time to tell them, isn’t it?”

No, it was not time to tell the boys their beloved half-sister was going to take a flight back to London in the near future. True, this had been his original plan. A plan he hadn’t shared with Rhouth. Still, his sister was…his sister. She’d always been able to read his mind.

Yet it was a plan he’d discarded.

“Tell us what?” Aarōn’s voice was no longer sharp, it was angry.

Rafe scowled at his mother. She gazed back. Her face smooth and sedate, her countenance placid, but also pointed.

She wasn’t going to step in this time.

“Aarōn. This isn’t the time to have this discussion.” Tam’s voice was insistent.

“What discussion?” Isaák frowned. “I don’t understand what this is all about.”

“Rhachel.” Rafe spooned the last of the garbanzo bean and chard salad onto his knife. “Why don’t you tell the family about Filip’s recent triumph in football.”

His sister’s oldest child, even at eight, was a rising athletic star, and his mother was his most enthusiastic fan. After shooting him a quick look, Rhachel launched into a recital of the last game.

He leaned back in the padded oak chair. Pretending to listen to his sister, he watched Tamsin as she whispered into Isaák’s ear. The boy’s frown eased off his face and he chuckled at something she said.

A peacemaker. Just like his mother.

Yet not like his mother at all.

From beneath his lashes, he let his gaze slip down. Tamsin wore a simple white cotton blouse of a dress. Classic, crisply contained. The night air had blown the edge open, though, leaving behind a glimpse of delicate collarbone and pearly skin.

The beginning of cleavage.

The lust flamed, unwanted. He’d managed to contain any thoughts of her kiss or her scent or her touch by focusing on the boys and his relatives during the last eleven days. The most important thing was to bind this family together. Still, the lust for her was always there, lurking inside, clutching at his groin when he least expected it.

The time when he’d literally run into her as she came out of her bedroom and felt the plush weight of her breast on his arm.

The time when he’d caught her laughing with the boys as they ran across the green lawn, her face alive with love.

The time he’d heard her slurred, lilting voice while she talked with his mother about the twins.

“There’s no doubt,” Rhouth’s excited voice cut through his thoughts. “Filip will be a superstar.”

His other sister laughed as she leaned over to cover her son’s red ears. “Not in front of him, please. He already has a big enough ego.”

“Not as big as his uncle’s, so there’s still room to grow.” Fydor, Rhachel’s husband, shot him a quick grin. An aunt twittered while an uncle guffawed. The last lingering tension eased out of the gathering.

He loved his family. Every one of them. Even Rhouth at her most irritating. Even Fydor at his most obnoxious. Yet, all at once, he wanted to leave, run from the expectations surrounding him. The assumptions laid upon him during the past ten years. He wanted to leap from his chair at the head of the table and escape to his home in Sparti.

Taking only the boys.

And Tamsin.

The knowledge sifted inside. The spike of yearning was so sharp, he took in a deep breath, almost a gasp.

An echoed breath reached him. He turned to find Tamsin staring at him. Her green eyes were dark, mysterious pools in the candlelight. Behind the mystery he thought he saw concern and compassion.

He didn’t need her concern or compassion.

He only needed her under him. For one time. To stop this need building inside him for something more than sex. Something beyond the joining of his body with hers.

“Rafe.” Rhouth’s voice grated on his hyper-sensitive nerves.

“
Nai
?” He forced himself to glance away from the woman he lusted for and into amber eyes blazing with anger.

Rhouth had seen. Seen him gazing at Tamsin. Seen something he refused to define.

“You’re going to work tomorrow, right?”

He scowled. What was this? This almost
demand
from his sister? True, he’d spent less time at work than usual. Other than the one day he’d taken the boys and Tamsin to see his office, he’d only spent one other day there. But he was always in contact with his staff. “Why do you ask?”

His youngest sister flashed a glare at her ex-best friend. As if Tamsin had anything to do with his work.

A clutch of remembered emotion coiled in his stomach. The memory of her curious questions, the way she’d taken in his business, his creation. How she’d examined each room and examined him as he talked. The way she’d looked at him before she’d walked away.

As if…as if…he’d failed.

Anger surged and behind it, much to Rafe’s disgust, swelled bewilderment and hurt.

“Because it’s clear the boys have settled in here.” Rhouth kept glaring. “They don’t need you around all the time. They have us.”

A howl of denial swelled in his throat. With one swift slice, his plan to leave the twins in his mother’s and sisters’ care while he went back to the business collapsed. “No.”

Rhouth jerked back in her chair. “What do you mean? You said yourself this was the plan.”

“Not anymore.” He looked at the boys and their sister. “We’re going to Sparti.”

An aunt murmured into her napkin. An uncle coughed.

“What do you mean, Raphael?” His mother smoothed a hand along the table edge, the flash of her marriage diamond sparkling in the light.

“We?” Rhachel bent forward, her expression filled with curiosity. “Are we finally getting an invitation to this place of yours?”

“I’m sorry, Rhach. Not this time.” He took another deep breath and plunged. “I want Aarōn and Isaák to come. And Tamsin.”

“No.” The heated word shot from Rhouth’s mouth.

“No.” At the exact same time, the same word came from his green-eyed tormentor sitting across the table from him.

The hot pain of rejection jerked him upright. Not his sister’s.

Tamsin’s.

“The boys are going to Sparti with me,” he said to her, the words cold and clipped. “You can come or not.”

“But…but…” She grimaced. “I accepted a job today.”

“Woot!” Aarōn leapt from his chair and hugged her. “I knew you could do it.”

Rafe didn’t want her to have a job. He wanted her to depend on him. He wanted her to have no way to be independent. He wanted her—

“Well, this is wonderful news.” Nephele beamed her smile across the table. “Tell us, what is the job?”

“An assistant manager. He said, the manager, he said I have possibilities.” She stuttered to a stop when she met Rafe’s glare. “So I’ll start as an assistant manager of a hotel for now.”

Possibilities
. He’d lay a bet on what kind of possibilities the man was talking about. He’d continued to have her followed. The fear of her meeting Haimon had subsided, yet she was still under his protection and Athens was not a particularly safe city. However, somehow, his security had not heard about this job offer.

“That’s fantastic, Tammy.” Isaák gave her a grin. “I know how much you wanted this.”

“Fantastic,” Rafe inserted. “But fruitless.”

She gazed at him, her eyes troubled.

“The boys and I are going to Sparti,” he continued. “Are you?”

T
amsin wrapped
a hand around her wrist and squeezed. The dull pain did nothing to alleviate the sharp pain in her heart.

The house stood right where they had planned.

“This place isn’t as big as your other house,” Aarōn said as he rolled down the limo window to get a better look.

“I like it more.” Isaák leaned forward, his head tilted in contemplation. “It’s got a nicer atmosphere.”

“Idiot.” His brother snorted. “What do you know about atmosphere?”

The crunch of wheels on gravel echoed in Tam’s head as the car turned into the short driveway leading to the limestone house. Well, actually it was a castle. A miniature castle with a tower at one end.

Exactly like she’d described to her love years ago.

“What I mean,” Isaák grumbled. “Is that it’s way cooler.”

“It’s not hot?” His twin grinned at him.

His brother responded with a punch.

“Boys.” Tam turned away from the house of her dreams to focus on her brothers. This was why she was here. Isaák and Aarōn. She was not here to moon about a house she had nothing to do with or obsess over why he built this house, this house they’d dreamed of together.

The limo stopped at the simple stone steps leading up to the wooden door, painted a burnt red color.

Exactly as she’d described.

The vehicle’s door opened and the twins tumbled out, as if they’d been released from a cage. They scrambled down the graveled lane running around to the back of the house, whooping and hollering.

“Aarōn and Isaák,” she called.

“Let them be.” Rafe eased back in the leathered seat. “They need to let off some steam after the two-hour drive. They are completely safe here.”

The driver looked in and saw something. Maybe he noticed the tense
atmosphere
the boys had missed as they drove toward Sparti. Or perhaps he saw the way her hands were twisting in her lap. Or it could have been he caught the shine of tears in her eyes. Whatever the reason, the driver abruptly turned and walked away, leaving only the quiet sound of the wind filling the silence.

She breathed in, trying to stuff every one of her emotions and questions down. The scent of oranges filled her nostrils and it hit her—he must have planted an orange grove somewhere near.

Precisely as they’d planned.

“Why?” she blurted before she could stop herself.

His long finger tapped once on his jeans-clad knee. His dark gaze was trained on her face, but gave her nothing. “Why?”

“This.” She gestured toward the house. “This house is exactly—”

“Exactly.” Before she could respond, he got out of the car and stood. “Why don’t you come in and see.”

He acted so blasé. He acted as if the fact he’d replicated her every word about her dream house was only a coincidence, nothing to comment on. Yet it couldn’t be so, could it? Tam squeezed her eyes shut, trying to understand.