The Love Islands Collection. Jane Porter

answer, in that deep, rough voice, sent a rush of heat through her. Carnal.

      She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard anyone use that word. It was such a biblical word...

      Her mind scrambled to think of something to say even as her mouth went dry and her body grew hot, skin prickling, every inch of her suddenly painfully sensitive.

      Before she could think of an appropriate response, he nodded and was gone, heading back down the hall.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      NIKOS WALKED SWIFTLY down the hall, his right hand squeezed into a fist. He couldn’t get away from Georgia’s rooms fast enough.

      He knew why he’d told her those things about himself. It had meant to be a warning, to ensure she kept her distance, but his words hadn’t scared her.

      If anything, the warning had the opposite effect. She’d looked at him with her wide, thoughtful eyes, her expression intrigued.

      But she shouldn’t be intrigued. She needed to know who she was dealing with...what she was dealing with...

      He’d scarred Elsa—broken her—and he didn’t want to ever hurt another woman in the same way. He’d sworn off women. Sworn off love and passion. But he was determined to be a father, determined to break the curse, if there really was a curse...

      Maybe then the wounds would heal.

      Maybe there would be more. A future. New life.

      Three and a half months until his son was here. Three and a half months until he could close the door on the past. And Elsa.

      Once the baby was here, there would be no Elsa and no grief. There would be hope. And yet it hadn’t been easy getting to this point. There had been so many dark moments and endless nights.

      He might be the devil incarnate, but apparently even the devil could be a father. And he’d wanted to be a father since he was a boy. He’d wanted a family, maybe because he’d been so lonely as a boy. He’d married Elsa certain there would be children, but it hadn’t worked out that way.

      * * *

      Nikos kept his distance the next day, aware that she had her studies to occupy her attention and he had his business.

      But late in the afternoon he sent word to her room that he’d see her at five on the terrace for drinks and a lite bite, and then dinner would be at ten.

      She was already on the terrace when he arrived, dressed in peach-and-gray cashmere. Her long hair had been braided into a simple side plait, with a couple of long golden strands loose to frame her face. He glanced down at her feet. Gray ankle boots. Small one-inch heel.

      If he’d told Elsa no heels, she would have never worn anything but flats for the rest of their marriage. Clearly Georgia was no Elsa.

      He nearly smiled, not sure why he was amused. Maybe it was just the relief that Georgia wasn’t Elsa.

      But before he could greet Georgia or offer her a drink, she lifted her laptop from the couch and approached him with it. “I haven’t been able to figure out how to get on the internet,” she said. “I am hoping you know the trick, or maybe it’s password-protected.”

      “There isn’t a trick,” he said. “I don’t really have reliable internet. It’s satellite based, so imagine old-fashioned dial-up speeds and endless dropped file downloads, coupled with information darkness that lasts for hours, or worse, days.”

      He saw her jaw drop and eyes widen. “How do you go online?”

      “I don’t.”

      “At all?”

      “Rarely.”

      “How can that be? I live on the internet. I use it for everything.”

      He shrugged. “When you don’t have access to it, you learn to live without it.”

      “But in Athens you must have it.”

      “Yes.”

      “But why not here?”

      “Greece has over six thousand islands and islets, and only two hundred and twenty-seven are populated. And where we are, in the Cyclades, there are very few people living. The Greek government can’t afford to put in the cables and fiber optics needed for reliable and fast internet, and I’m certainly not going to pay for it, either.”

      “So how do you manage your business from Kamari without the internet?”

      “I have a phone for meetings and emergencies, and once a week mail arrives—more frequently if something is urgent—and I’m quite happy with that.”

      Clearly she wasn’t happy with the news. Her brows flattened, and she pursed her lips and studied him as if he were a dinosaur...or worse.

      “I thought Mr. Laurent warned you,” he said. “I asked him to prepare you. You were to have brought textbooks and whatever you could download onto your computer’s hard drive—”

      “I did do that.”

      “So you can study.”

      “Yes, but so many resources are online.”

      He shrugged again. “I guess you will have to do it the old-school way.”

      Her blue eyes blazed. “This isn’t a game. This is serious.”

      “I’m not mocking you. I’m stating a reality. There is no internet. You need to rely on hard copies of everything.”

      She turned away from him, eyes closing for a moment, and then she drew a slow breath, as if trying to compose herself. “I also noticed you don’t have TV or radio,” she said quietly. “Is that true, or did I just miss seeing where you’d stashed them?”

      “You are correct. I do not have TV or radio here.”

      Georgia walked to the white slipcovered couch and sat down, cradling her laptop against her. “You have nothing here for diversion.”

      She looked so stricken that he almost felt sorry for her. “I don’t need it,” he answered. “I like my thoughts. I read. I work.”

      “You’re a hermit.”

      “I like the quiet, yes.”

      Georgia hugged the laptop closer to her. “It’s rather frightening how isolated you are.”

      “It’s not frightening, and you know I have a satellite phone when I need it.”

      He went to the tray with the pitchers of water and juice. “Want something?”

      “Yes. A ticket to Athens, please.”

      His brow quirked. “Is that a name of an American cocktail?”

      She gave him a long look. “You know it’s not.”

      “What can I pour for you?”

      “I’m not thirsty.”

      “You’ll feel better if you stay hydrated, and this one is really good.” He filled a tall glass and carried it to her. “Pomegranate juice and something else.”

      She took the glass from him and set it on the table next to her without drinking. “And you really never leave here?”

      “Haven’t in a year.”

      “What about when you...did your part...to make the baby?”

      “The medical team came here.”

      “And what about when I need a checkup? In Atlanta, I saw the obstetrician once a month, just to make sure the baby was doing well. Will I really have that here, or are you just placating me?”

      “Not