She stood silent. She hadn’t intended to tell him she’d visited Haimon. The revelation would only aggravate him further when she needed to make a deal to stay in the boys’ life. Still, she hadn’t thought of it as concealment, only a strategic decision. Yet by the look in Rafe’s eye, this was another brick in the wall of Tamsin can’t be trusted.

  “I visited him after the meeting with the solicitor.” She straightened her shoulders.

  “Today?” He paced away as if trying to keep his hands from wringing her neck. “You visited Drakos today?”

  “Yes.” She stood in the middle of the room, feeling as if she were about to be called to the execution block.

  “He’s awake.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then he’s going to try and escape.” He grabbed his mobile phone off the desk. “I told the hospital to inform me immediately, dammit.”

  “What are you doing?” Without thinking, she ran to him and tried to tug the phone from his hands. “Why should the doctors inform you of anything? You’re not next-of-kin.”

  He turned, jerking the phone out of her reach. “They know about the warrant for his arrest.”

  “A warrant? Already?” She froze.

  “Several.” His back to her, he dialed. “The police need to be notified.”

  “Haimon isn’t going anywhere.” A wash of dread ran through her. “He’s too sick.”

  I’m not going to be here for long.

  If she told him she’d given her stepfather the means to escape, the money to flee, she’d never, ever gain his consent to stay with the twins. But she hadn’t done it for her stepfather. She’d done it for the boys.

  Rafe wouldn’t believe that though, would he?

  His curt voice murmured into the phone. Tam stood on wobbly legs listening as he issued terse orders to his security. A welter of emotions fought inside her. Guilt that she’d let Haimon’s waking slip. Anger at this man for being so bloody ruthless. Fear that he’d find out about the money at some point.

  Rafe pivoted to stare at her as he dropped his phone on the desk. “That’s taken care of.”

  “He’s an old man.” She tried one more time to reach the the wonderful young man she’d once loved.

  “Let’s not have the same argument.” He grimaced. “You’ll lose. Again.”

  Hate radiated from him. Tamsin realized with a hard ache that this emotion had ultimately consumed the boy she’d loved. Consumed the compassionate heart, the kind soul, the healing hands.

  A wrenching grief swelled inside her, closing her throat.

  “Good.” He folded his arms in front of him. “No rebuttal from you. You might finally be understanding the new reality.”

  Anger blasted apart the grief, still, she kept her mouth shut. She needed to remember the bigger picture. Haimon would have to take care of himself. She had to take care of the boys.

  Rafe eyed her, as if momentarily puzzled at her silence. “Let’s get something straight,” he said. “No more contact with Drakos. Ever.”

  “I have the right—”

  “You. Or the twins.”

  A flicker of hope sprang to life inside her. He wasn’t talking about her leaving anymore. He was dictating, which made her burn in anger, but he wasn’t telling her to leave. He was telling her what to do. “So you acknowledge the fact the boys and I are meant to be together.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I acknowledge no such thing.”

  “Then why would you care if I see Haimon or not?”

  “I won’t have that man pollute the twins’ life any longer.”

  “Or mine because I’m a part of the boys’ lives.” She could tell her words irked him, but he didn’t deny them either.

  “I don’t care about you.” A muscle in his jaw tightened.

  “The boys do.”

  He stared at her, his mouth grim. “Do what I tell you to do or you’ll be sorry.”

  “I’m already sorry about this whole situation.” Her courage soared at the expression on his face. The trapped look. “A little more sorry isn’t going to faze me.”

  He made an irritated sound deep in his throat. Turning away from her intent gaze, he stomped to the desk and began leafing through the files.

  Ignoring her.

  Or she should say, trying to ignore her.

  Because his body language screamed recognition of the new reality. The taut line of his shoulders told her she’d won a battle in this war between them. The tense stance of his legs declared he knew she’d found a foothold in his life with the twins. Even the way he moved his hands, in a rough, edgy way, screamed the knowledge he couldn’t get rid of her.

  Not yet. Not now.

  With a jerk, he turned to confront her. “Entáxei. I’ll deal.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t want to overplay this win. Yet the thrill of holding the upper hand for once threatened to overcome her common sense. “You first.”

  “You have joint custody with Drakos, right?” Stark pain flashed through his eyes, striking her straight through.

  “Correct.” Literally correct, if not in spirit. Until she got those papers back with Haimon’s signature, though, she couldn’t be sure.

  Rafe dropped his head and his shoulders sagged. A heartbroken sigh gusted from him.

  She tried to cut the thread of compassion threatening to bloom inside her. She didn’t want it to drown this sure win. The only thing she needed to do was keep her wits sharp and her emotions dead and she’d have what she wanted. Continuing access to her boys.

  He swiveled around, slamming his hands down on the desk. “All these years. Anáthemá se! I should have been with them.”

  The thread turned into a river. She wanted to swear too. Swear at herself. Swear at her too-tender heart. “Rafe—”

  “Never mind.” He kept his gaze turned toward the open window. “What matters is getting Drakos out of my nephews’ lives forever.”

  These last few days she’d seen only the angry man, the man filled with hate. But now, before her stood a weary man, a man weighted down by regret. The urge to soothe swept through her. “I have already—”

  “That means I need your help.” He restlessly ran his hand through his hair, indicating he understood the underlying premise of what that meant. “So what do I have to give you to make this happen?”

  She didn’t want Haimon anywhere near Aarōn and Isaák either. Not anymore. He’d shown his true colors and as far as she was concerned, he’d never see the boys again. Admitting this to Rafe, however, would cause her to lose any bargaining power. Right now, this very minute, she could ask for the only thing she wanted, and get it. She saw the realization in his hostile black eyes. She had him backed into a corner. He knew it and she knew it.

  I get to stay in the boys’ life. For now.

  She’d work on forever later.

  Yet the words froze on her tongue. She tried to choke them out, but they wouldn’t come. They refused to be said because she didn’t want to force Rafe to do this. She wanted him to willingly acknowledge the bond between her and the boys couldn’t be broken. Should never be broken.

  “It’s already done,” she stuttered. “I’ve taken care of it.”

  “What?” His eyes widened and went blank.

  Why was she letting this opportunity flit away? What she wanted lay right in front of her. She couldn’t make herself claim it, though. Not in this way. “My solicitor is sending over papers now.”

  “Papers.”

  “Haimon has agreed to grant me sole custody.” Her last chance to bargain wafted away with her words.

  “Really.” He shook himself, as if trying to wake from a dream. Never taking his gaze off her, he folded his arms across his broad chest and leaned on the desk. “How did you manage that?”

  “The details aren’t important.” She wasn’t stupid enough to tell him about the money. Or lack thereof. She’d given far too much as it was. “Just know he’s out of the boys’ lives.”

  “And yours.” Implacable, insistent, his demand rang in the room.

  She sighed. What did it matter if she, too, never saw her stepfather again? His actions today, his actions during the years, and his actions against Rafe and his family, had stolen any affection she’d ever had for the man. “And mine.”

  His shoulders relaxed. Silence descended while he examined her, and Tamsin had the silly impulse to duck her head like she’d done something wrong.

  She had done something wrong.

  She’d foolishly thrown aside a bargaining chip. One she desperately needed to fend off this man and his ruthless march to victory.

  “Interesting.” He tapped one finger on his arm; his face was smooth, yet his eyes were still sharp and pointed. “I wonder what your scheme is.”

  The unjustness of the attack drove every thought of bargaining chips and strategies straight out of her head. Her fists tightened in knots at her side. “Why do you always believe the worst in people?”

  “I don’t.” The finger stopped. “I only believe the worst when it’s been proven to me over and over again.”

  “You don’t know—”

  “I know all about the Drakos way of life.” The tapping began once more. “For example, I know you lied to me ten years ago.”

  “I never lied to you.” She wanted to race across the room and bang his head on the wall.

  “No?” Gazing at her, his mouth went grim. “Not with your kisses? Your sweet promises?”

  “I was sixteen!”

  “Kisses and promises that disappeared as soon as my father killed himself.”

  She should tell him. Tell him the truth of her motivations all those years ago. True, she’d promised Haimon to keep their deal secret, but she had no loyalty to her stepfather anymore. She was free to tell Rafe she’d still loved when she told him to leave, that she still loved…

  “Once a liar, Tamsin, always a liar.” He thrust the words at her like a sheaf of knives.

  He wouldn’t believe her. Not a word. So why should she throw her heart in front of him only so he could march right over it? Something inside him had been poisoned and she’d be a fool to trust him with her truth.

  “Nothing to say?” He smiled, another brutal thrust. “Then should I keep going on the Drakos way of life? I know everything about your father and his dirty deals.”

  “He’s not my father.” The flash of energy his unfair accusation had caused inside her dulled in the face of his relentless attacks. Staring at the floor, she imagined sinking into the thick rug, curling into a ball and sleeping this conversation away.

  Rafe ignored her and kept going with his list. “I know what your mother did to my brother.”

  “What?” Jerking her head up from her contemplation of the dark blue carpet, she eyed him. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about blackmail.” His words landed like thrusts into her heart.

  “No.” She had no love for her mother. Hadn’t really mourned her passing nine years ago. As a kid, she’d tried to wrench Skylla’s attention her way, but had never been successful. By the time she’d been a teenager, she’d stopped trying. Still, her mother wouldn’t have—

  “Your mother wasn’t satisfied with concealing the twins from their true heritage. From their true father.” Rafe’s eyes blazed with the inevitable hate. “No, she went one evil step further.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” The headache came back with a vicious bump. Tam lifted her hand once more, attempting to stroke away the pain.

  His hands tightened on his arms as if trying to keep himself from physically ripping her apart. So he did it in words instead.

  “I went through my brother’s papers after he died.” His voice dropped with the last word like he had to push it out. “All of them.”

  Staring at him, she knew immediately whatever he was going to say would be bad. But she couldn’t find anything inside herself to stop him.

  His mouth tightened at her silence. “There were pictures of the twins.”

  “Pictures?” A sharp, slashing cut across her heart made her gasp. Her mother hadn’t spared her sons one visit after she left mere months after they’d landed in London. She’d been too busy with her new rich boyfriend, she’d said. Too busy for mewling babies. Yet bizarrely, she’d asked Tam to send her regular photos of the boys. “She sent your brother pictures?”

  “Nai.” The finger tapped a staccato refrain on his skin. “Along with her blackmail letters.”

  “She wouldn’t have.” The protest held no punch, because deep inside, she acknowledged her mother might have done such a thing if she’d been desperate.

  Rafe’s smile had no life in it. Cold and icy, it sliced into her weak objection. “She wanted money. Or else she was going to tell his family about the twins. So Ben sent it to her.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  Her question stopped the tapping finger and for a moment, she thought she detected a shadow of pain slip across his eyes. Then they turned black as death once more. “Who knows?” He shrugged. “But he paid her.”

  “So…” Her mind whirled. “Your brother didn’t want the boys to know his family. Is that right?”

  “Like I said, who—”

  “I wonder why?” A deep well of rage opened inside her, wiping out the load of guilt she’d carried around since the moment this man had walked back into her life.

  During these last few days, Rafe had thrown accusation after accusation at her. At first, she’d taken it because she’d felt guilty that the twins had been unfairly kept from the Vounós. Then, she’d felt guilt for the devastation Haimon had caused to Rafe’s family. And finally, a tiny part of her heart still mourned and grieved for the pain she’d caused this man unintentionally, thinking she’d been giving a gift.

  A gift he hadn’t received.

  “What does it matter?” He straightened from the desk.

  “It matters.” A Vounó, Rafe’s brother, was as much at fault for this mess as any Drakos.

  “He’s dead—”

  “So is my mother. Yet that doesn’t stop you from judging her.” Tam’s head of steamy anger burst. “Maybe Ben thought your family wasn’t worthy of knowing the boys.”

  He tensed, his hands fisting. “That’s not—”

  “Maybe Ben thought you shouldn’t have any contact with the twins.”

  “Stop right there—”

  She stood her ground when he prowled closer. “Maybe Ben realized what you’d become and didn’t want his sons tainted with you.”

  “That’s enough.” Grabbing her arms, he yanked her to him. “Don’t say another word.”

  She wasn’t going to stop. She couldn’t. “Maybe Ben knew the man you’d become—angry, hateful, ruthless—and didn’t want his sons anywhere near you.”

  His mouth slammed onto hers, stopping the words that clearly seared him. She knew they had when she saw the flash of pain in his eyes.

  Before she closed her own.

  Because she couldn’t take him in all at once. Not his pain, and then his hate and then his lust. Because the kiss wasn’t only about punishment; it was about lust. She fought against the pull, the draw. Tightening her muscles against him, she pushed on his chest.

  He ignored her. His lips were hot and hard. The heat of his body branded her, while his mouth commanded her unconditional surrender. And somehow, someway, her body responded.

  The prickle of her nipples itched again.

  The buttery warmth blossomed inside once more.

  She opened her mouth to protest. To protest his demands. To protest to herself for her response. His tongue delved in before she could catch her breath. It swept over her objections and swirled them into a blend of lust and need. His tongue played magic on her own, filling her head with mindless desire. His hands moved to her back and hips, pushing her into his heat.

  This was nothing like the kisses they’d shared years ago. This was a man’s kiss, a man’s demand, and hopelessly, Tamsin slid into him, gave to him.

  All her muscles softened. All her emotions melted.

  All her dreams reawakened.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and moaned, a husky, sultry call.

  With an abrupt jerk, he yanked himself from her embrace.

  Tam swayed, bereft and chagrined and shaken. The jumble of emotions inside made her want to retch. Or cry. Or fall at his feet in defeat.

  Forcing herself to steady, she stared at him.

  His back was to her. He’d walked to the desk and his hands were idly sifting through some papers as if what had just occurred was no more than a minor occurrence in a very busy day.

  She couldn’t say anything. Not without crying out in pain.

  He took a breath in, his shoulders lifting then almost, but not quite, shrugging. “You can come to Greece.”

  Joy should have filled her, and yet, the only thing she felt swimming through her blood was dread. Because this man, this man was a threat to her in a way she hadn’t realized until moments ago. A violent delight to her body. A infecting madness for her emotions.

  A threat in a way that had nothing to do with the boys.

  Chapter 9

  The plane banked, the last lights of London twinkling brightly, then hazing with the first of the clouds sliding past.

  The last of the life she’d known for ten years.

  The last of the life she’d cobbled together from disaster.

  The last of the life where she’d been the most important person in the boys’ life.

  Tamsin swung away from the window to stare at her brothers. Both dark heads were bent over the tablet Rafe held in his hands as he leaned across the low, ultra-modern table sitting between him and the twins.

  She glanced around and once again, the reality of his wealth stunned her.

  Scared her.

  The limo ride to the airport hadn’t frightened her. Not after several days of getting used to the ease of traveling through the city without battling the crowds on the Tube. No, the anxiety had started when they’d arrived at Heathrow and had been ushered into a private lounge.

  “What’s this?” she’d said, peering behind her as the door had closed, shutting out the masses of people waiting to check in.