Chapter 7

  She appeared exhausted. Defeated.

  “Tam!” Isaák hooted, jumping off the couch he and his twin had been slouched on and running toward where she stood at the door of the hotel suite.

  “You won’t believe what we did.” Aarōn followed his brother, his voice rising excitedly.

  Did with him. Their uncle. That went unmentioned, of course. Still, today, he’d made progress of a sort. The mention of tickets to Wembley Stadium to see a semi-final game of football had lit the twins’ faces. All the gloom and grouching about Tamsin leaving them behind with him had disappeared in one flat second.

  The boys hadn’t become enamored of him, yet they hadn’t ignored him either. The first trip ever to Wembley was met with wide eyes and excited talk. Overall, though, Rafe had kept a handle on them and the excursion was a success.

  He’d been surprised. Not only because the twins hadn’t gone off the rails in his care, but also because he hadn’t enjoyed a football game as much as he had today…well, in a very long time. The twins’ excitement had brought back memories of his trips to the stadium with his father and Ben. They’d brought back the joy of the game and being a kid. He’d clicked his phone off halfway through the match. Only when they’d returned to the hotel, had he turned it on again.

  The boys combined voices rose as they competed to tell Tamsin of their day at Wembley.

  “Did you really?” She glanced at Rafe, her green eyes shadowed. “How exciting. Did you say your thank yous?”

  “Wait, I’m not finished.” Isaák waved her question away and launched into another story about the match. Aarōn bounced on his toes next to his brother.

  His nephews had not said their thank yous. Yet he’d had time with them and time was the key to winning them over. Time away from their Drakos relatives. Time with the Vounó family. Time was on his side. Rafe leaned back in his chair and watched as she slid her hand along Isaák’s shoulder and swung her arm around to hug Aarōn.

  His hand tensed on seat of the chair.

  Mollycoddling.

  Wasn’t it?

  Time enough to end that once and for all.

  He’d been careful in his questioning. The boys were protective of her and he didn’t want to stir a hornet’s nest. However, between the treat of the tickets, the Cokes and hamburgers, and the roar of the fans, he’d figured a couple of things out.

  Enough to know he’d already won what he wanted.

  “What’s Greece like?” Isaák had questioned as the crowd kept filing into the stadium.

  “When are we going there?” his brother demanded.

  Both pairs of dark eyes had stared at him expectantly. A wash of grief had ran through him at the thought of everything Ben had lost by not claiming Aarōn and Isaák as Vounós. At everything his family had lost by being deprived of watching these two grow. At everything the twins had lost by not knowing their heritage.

  “Greece is…” How could he keep it simple yet communicate how important this rocky piece of land was to him and his family? “Greece is home.”

  Both boys gave him an identical quizzical scowl.

  “Huh?” Aarōn finally blurted out.

  He tried again. “Greece is where all of our ancestors came from. It is in our blood. You’ll see when you get there.”

  “When’s that going to be?” Isaák said.

  “Soon.”

  “Not soon enough.” Aarōn slurped from his Coke.

  “You want to go.” A surge of fierce joy swam through Rafe at the realization.

  “Definitely.” Isaák gave him a disbelieving look. “Who wouldn’t want to spend the summer in Greece?”

  “You won’t be returning to London in the fall.” He ventured out into shaky territory, but he didn’t want the twins misled. “You’ll go to school in Greece starting this fall.”

  In an eerily identical movement, both boys turned to gaze out at the beginning skirmishes of the match. They each appeared pensive, even sad.

  Rafe’s heart had wrenched.

  He hadn’t thought everything through when he’d charged into these boys’ lives. He had been intent on saving them. Not hurting them. Yet he was tearing them away from everything they knew. Their home, their school, their family. An unexpected and unwanted emotion had surged through him in a split second. One he was unfamiliar with.

  Indecision.

  “So we’re not going back home?” Isaák’s voice cracked at the end.

  “I don’t care about that heap of a place.” Aarōn frowned. “But what about our friends at school?”

  “You’ll make new friends in Greece.” Rafe stuffed down the urge to plead. “Plus, you’ll have a big family surrounding you. You have a grandmother. Aunts. Cousins.”

  “How many?” Aarōn appeared enchanted with the thought, the memories of school friends fading away.

  “Half a dozen.”

  “Half a dozen cousins.” Isaák piped in.

  The boys both chortled at his play on words.

  “That’s so cool to think we have all these other relatives.” A grimace turned Isaák’s mouth down. “But…what about…our dad—”

  “He’s not our dad, idiot.” His brother frowned once more. “At least I’m pretty sure.”

  His twin stared at the field below. “He never acted like our dad, honestly.”

  The wistful tone in Isaák’s voice made the grief for what they’d missed well inside Rafe. He wanted to march into the hospital and choke Drakos until he died. Yet there was another man at fault: his own brother. The knowledge ate inside him. Somehow, he’d make this up to the twins.

  “I never cared.” Aarōn had shifted in his seat, a dismissive look on his face. “We always had Tamsin.”

  “Yeah.” His brother glanced at him, a sudden, sunny smile on his face. “We did, didn’t we? And still do.”

  Rafe soaked in the harsh knowledge; Their sister was their lodestar and wasn’t going to be as easy to get rid of as Haimon Drakos. Bitter anger swirled into his grief and regrets.

  Aarōn crossed his arms in front of him. “Maybe he’ll die.”

  “Tam says he won’t die.”

  The indifference in both of their voices told Rafe everything he needed to know about their relationship to their so-called father. Yet indecision still hovered inside him. Perhaps he needed to ease them into this more slowly. He might need to acquire a home here so they could return and visit their London friends. Maybe he’d have to let Tamsin stay in their lives…

  The thought choked inside him, like a tight hard fist.

  He didn’t want her around. Not only because of her corrupting influence on the boys, but her corrupting influence on him. Her soft, slurred voice kept bringing back unwanted memories. Her gentle demeanor continued to beat against his hate. Her pale, delicate skin and green eyes and golden hair lashed around his libido.

  The last thing he wanted was Tamsin coming to Greece with them.

  It could be he’d have to stay in London a bit longer. The boys were only thirteen and if this was what was needed, then he’d do it for them. “We can take it slower if you’d like. We can wait to leave for—”

  “No, it’s okay,” Isaák stated, squaring his shoulders.

  “Yeah, we’re fine with leaving,” Aarōn said. It was as if the twins had silently communicated with each other and made a decision. “We want to see Greece and meet our new family.”

  “As long as our sister is with us, we’ll be happy in Greece.” Isaák took another sip of his drink, his face now smooth and complacent.

  “Yeah,” Aarōn threw a look across at Rafe, the communication clear.

  Tamsin stays with us.

  The beginning of the match had stopped the conversation, but it had told Rafe what he needed to know and didn’t want to confront. Clearly, separating them from Haimon Drakos was not going to be a problem.

  The problem was going to be Tamsin.

  “Did you eat?” She smiled at Aarōn and Isaák, a gentle smile that brought back aching memories. That smile was exactly like the smiles she used to give him long ago. And he’d believed them—exactly as the twins believed in her now.

  How was he going to separate her from them before she hurt them, too? How was he going to do this without damaging the boys permanently, like she’d damaged him?

  There isn’t enough money in the world to get me to let go of my brothers.

  He lurched out of the chair, anger and indecision churning inside. “Tamsin. We need to talk.”

  Both boys jerked around and gave him the exact same look.

  Protective. Of their sister.

  Rafe realized with a sickening dread that this was going to be the hardest deal he’d ever make. A deal that had to be done with Tamsin.

  Tamsin, with her husky voice and leaf-green eyes, bringing back unwanted memories.

  Tamsin, with her clean scent and beautiful body, making him sweat with lust.

  Tamsin, with her dogged demands and cunning mind, causing him to lose all battles.

  Chapter 8

  As Tamsin followed Rafe into his bedroom, exhaustion competed with fear. She’d done what Haimon requested. She’d signed over every pound to him. The moment her shaking hand had finished signing the last of the bank papers, she’d felt a profound sense of doom. She had no more resources. She was completely powerless.

  The thump of a building headache beat in her head.

  But what else could she have done? She’d had to in order to gain custody of the boys.

  Anger bubbled beneath her fear and exhaustion. Anger at Haimon for letting the twins go so easily. He’d used them as a weapon to get his way. When she’d called him and told him what she’d done at the bank, that the funds would be released to his name as soon as he signed the custody papers, he’d readily agreed. He hadn’t even asked about what the future was for the twins. It was as if he’d washed his hands of them.

  Over the years, he’d rarely paid much attention to them, yet they’d been a family, hadn’t they? The four of them had stuck together and she’d thought…she’d thought…

  “The doctor’s coming at seven p.m. to do the tests.”

  Closing the door behind her to shield the boys from this conversation, she turned to face the harsh, hard man standing close by. The man who now held every advantage in this war going on between them. The only weapon she had was the love of Aarōn and Isaák. Yet if she used this to gain her way, was she any better than Haimon?

  A gurgle of ragged tears filled her throat.

  Tam swallowed them down.

  She had to stay strong. She had to remember the twins needed her. How could she possibly walk away from them and leave them in the care of this cold man?

  She wasn’t using them. She was protecting them.

  “Did you hear me?” Rafe snarled.

  “Yes, I heard you.” Her anger at her stepfather rolled into indignation. Indignation at this man snarling at her. A man who relentlessly pushed her, pummeled her with his directions and demands. “I didn’t agree to that.”

  “Nai.” He turned around to glare at her. “You did.”

  She had. If not literally, then certainly, figuratively. Still, resentment burned in her blood. Rafe just kept charging forward, running over everything and everyone standing in his way. If he had a heart any longer, he’d give her and the boys a moment to come to grips with the changes coming at them.

  But he didn’t have a heart any longer.

  He’d proven that time and time again during the last few days.

  “You did, Tamsin.” He took a step towards her, outrage in every line of his body at her continued silence. “Admit it.”

  Pressing herself on the door, she met his gaze and shivered at what she saw. The black hostility in his eyes burned like hot coals. “Okay, I did. However, you should have checked with me before setting the appointment.”

  “Why?” Another sardonic snarl twisted his lips. “When you’d previously agreed?”

  He was a mere foot from her. The heat of his body wrapped around her, making the cold shivers turn abruptly to hot. Catching her breath, she reeled from the punch of his presence and the taste of his smell on her tongue. The realization struck her that for all the innumerable changes in Raphael, in one way, he was the same as her memories.

  His distinct scent.

  She’d teased him about it long ago. She’d chuckled when he’d shrugged and waved it off and then blushed. He’d said maybe he should get some cologne, try some manly perfume like his older brother. Snuggling into the space between his neck and shoulder, she’d told him, “don’t you dare.”

  Rafe had thrown his head back and laughed.

  Tam tried to bring her thoughts together. This was too important, too vital to her very being. She needed to focus on her brothers, not on bittersweet memories. She needed to fortify her stand, her rights, not allow herself to be distracted by something that no longer mattered.

  But she sunk deeper into his spell.

  He surrounded her.

  The dark richness of his natural scent filled her nostrils and despite her determination, she breathed him in. Chocolate and caramel and some indefinable salty sweetness permeated his skin like an overlay of sin. All the memories. Such a short time together, yet all the memories, like a flood of endless perfection, endless dreams, swirled around her and inside her.

  For a moment, a flash of something crossed his face.

  Some connection. Some emotion.

  Her body went from burning hot to yearning warm. Something prickled in her nipples. Something turned buttery at her core. “Rafe?”

  With a jerk, he strode to an ultra-modern glass desk that stood by the open terrace window. Shoving aside one file folder, he drew out a piece of paper from another. “Sign this.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop the warm, prickly, buttery feeling from disappearing. “What is it?”

  “You know what it is.” A waft of spring breeze ruffled his dark hair, making him appear boyish, lovable. But there was nothing boyish or lovable about the scowl he gave her.

  The warmth frosted away, burned off by her returning anger and frustration. She’d been dreaming when she’d imagined a connection. This was the man who threatened her position in the boys’ lives. She had to remember that. “Something from your solicitors, I’ll bet.”

  “You’d bet right.” His tight smile held utter disdain. “You must have inherited the need for betting from you father.”

  Her hands tightened on her arms at the insult. “I’m not signing anything my solicitor doesn’t review.”

  A solicitor who told her to sweet-talk this man. A solicitor who advised her to make a deal with this man before being run over by his money. A solicitor she could no longer afford.

  “He doesn’t need to review a simple consent form.” He waved a pen at her.

  “I don’t know—”

  “Tamsin.” His anger radiated through the room. “We made a deal. Are you going to do what every Drakos I know has done—?”

  “I just need to think.” Running her hand across her forehead, she tried to soothe the pounding ache inside. “Can’t you give me a minute—?”

  “You’ve seen your solicitor. Now sign the paper as promised.”

  She thought of her past life. The one that had ended mere days ago. The life where she’d controlled her surroundings. Where she’d been competent, looked to for instruction, able to deal with any problems coming her way. Now she felt as if she’d suddenly turned into a weak, wilting leaf, swirling down this man’s river, unable to catch a current into a secret eddy or hook herself to a safe branch.

  His voice came again, tough and curt. “I had hoped your solicitor was a good one. One who laid out your so-called options.”

  She laughed, a shaky, almost hysterical laugh. “My non-existent options.”

  “Well, well. You do have a good solicitor.”

  This was not smart. She was arguing with him. Riling him. Admitting how weak her position was. She needed to think with a clear head. Why was she arguing about this DNA test? She’d agreed to it before, believing it was best for the twins.

  There were far more important battles to be waged and won.

  Pushing herself off the door, she walked over to where Rafe stood. “Give it to me.”

  The consent was simple, easily understood. Grabbing the pen from his hand, she bent down and signed the form. “There. Happy now?”

  She moved back, unable to bear being so close to the scent of him. Using flippant words to cover the awful need to reach out and wrap herself around him, which was silly and ridiculous. The last thing she wanted to do was get near this hateful man.

  “Happy?” His laugh was hard and cold. “I’m not going to be happy until I see your father in jail.”

  “What?” Her lingering anger at her stepfather dropped away, leaving only horror. “What do you mean?”

  “I told you.” White lines bracketed his mouth. “I told you at the hospital I wasn’t done with him.”

  “But jail?” She reeled away, trying to escape his threats and his presence. “What can you possibly have—?”

  “I have plenty.” He followed her, looming over her. “Did you think merely taking his filthy hovel would be enough for what he did to my father?”

  “The hotel wasn’t a hovel.” Fury raged back. “The place was our home.”

  “No Vounó should live in a place like that.” He dismissed her rage with a flick of one long finger. “Good enough, I suppose for a Drakos.”

  His sneer ratcheted up her pumping fury at his continued insults. “Then why not leave Haimon to it? Why do you have to put him in jail?”

  “Come on. Don’t play the fool.” His hand slashed across his body, cutting her objection off. “You must have known the old man was dealing dirt.”

  “I didn’t know—”

  “Please.” His rejection came with a swift edge. “Don’t make me laugh again.”

  “He’s sick. He’s old. He can barely talk, much less fight you or survive jail—”

  “What?” He stilled, black gaze instantly alert and sharp. “What did you say?”