The Love Islands Collection. Jane Porter

out the rest from there.”

      “It’s getting late—”

      “It’s not late. We have hours until sunset.”

      “An hour maybe.”

      “Plenty of time to reach the island if I leave now.”

      “You can’t go like this.”

      “But I can, and I am.” She backed up a step as he approached her. “And don’t come any nearer. And definitely don’t touch me. You will never touch me again. And you will never see me again.”

      “Georgia!”

      She swallowed hard, chin lifting, eyes stinging, hot like acid, but there were no tears. She felt too cold and sick on the inside for tears. She was in shock. She would be in shock for a while. It was all too awful, all too much to take in.

      “I’m going down to the dock. Have your man meet me there. He alone will take me—”

      “I won’t have it. I won’t let you do this—”

      “You don’t have a choice. I’m not staying. I will swim to Amorgós if I have to and I’m happy to start now.” Her gaze met his and held. “I’m not bluffing, either, Nikos.”

      His narrowed gaze swept her face. “I’m not saying you are.”

      “So call one of your staff—Eamon or Kappo or whomever is free—and have him drive me. But if your man isn’t at the boat, at the dock, in five minutes, I will strip off my clothes and start swimming.”

      “You are being impulsive and dramatic.”

      “If you say so.” She shrugged carelessly. “But I don’t really care what you think. Fortunately, I’m a good swimmer, a very strong swimmer, and I’ve spent the past month swimming a mile or more every day here.”

      He made a deep, rough sound, and she didn’t know if it was contempt or exasperation. “Amorgós is sixteen miles from here, not one, gynaika mou.”

      “Good. It will give me time to calm down.” She turned to walk away, then paused and glanced back at him. “And for your information, I am not your woman. I am merely your surrogate. Nothing more, nothing less. I will alert you when I give birth, and that is all you need to know for now.”

      And then she was gone, passing through the door, disappearing into the house, anxious to be gone, anxious to put distance between her and Nikos, the only man she’d ever truly loved.

       CHAPTER TWELVE

      GEORGIA ARRIVED ON Amorgós and found a little hotel in the harbor. It was a very small hotel, but it was open and had a room available and she was just happy to check in, put on her pajamas and go to bed.

      Her plan was to just stay a night. In the morning she’d book a seat on the next ferry to Santorini. But as it turned out, in winter the ferry only traveled between Amorgós and Santorini twice a week and she’d missed it yesterday.

      That meant she had two more nights until the next boat. Fortunately the owner of the hotel had no guests arriving and was happy for Georgia to stay the extra evenings.

      During the day she sat in her room and studied. At night she would go to the tavern across the street and order something to go, and she’d eat her dinner in her room.

      She didn’t have much of an appetite, but she forced herself to eat for the baby’s sake.

      She tried not to let herself think of Nikos, which wasn’t easy, since everything about Amorgós reminded her of him.

      On her last night in town, as she paid for her dinner at the tavern, a handsome man in his late twenties approached and spoke to her in English.

      “Is that his?” he asked, nodding at her belly.

      Georgia stiffened. “Are you speaking to me?” she asked, voice frosty.

      He ignored her chilly tone. “You look like her,” he added. “Not exactly, but enough.”

      Georgia told herself not to engage. She was tired and hungry, and tomorrow she was leaving here for Santorini. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “Somebody should have warned you when you were here last month. He is a bad man. Teras. Be careful.”

      Teras. She’d heard that word before. It was one of those derogatory terms the locals called Nikos. Monster, beast, something like that. “Who are you?”

      “A friend of his late wife’s.” He paused a beat and then leaned forward to whisper. “He killed her, you know.”

      She arched a brow. “I don’t know who you refer to. I think you have me confused with someone else.”

      “I’m not, and you know who I talk about. She was pregnant with Nikos Panos’s child, too. But she’d rather kill herself, and the baby, then live with him.” He gave her a dark, searching look. “You should know the truth as I’m sure he hasn’t told you. Or maybe he has, and that’s why you’re here.”

      Georgia felt a wave of disgust and revulsion. “Are you the one that sends those letters every year to him? Ambierce... Ambrose?”

      He straightened. “Ambrose. And so he has told you.”

      “Why do you do it? What is the point?”

      “He was already rich. He had everything. He didn’t need her. She was mine.”

      “If that was the case, then she shouldn’t have married him.” She tipped her head. “Good night.”

      Once back in her small room, Georgia locked her door and lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

      Was Elsa really pregnant at the time she died? Nikos hadn’t mentioned that.

      She placed her arm over her eyes to try to block out the pictures in her head, but it was difficult with Ambrose’s words still ringing in her ears.

      It was a good thing she was going to Santorini in the morning.

      * * *

      Pain woke Georgia up in the middle of the night, an ungodly cramping pain that made her fear the worst.

      At thirty-three weeks the baby should be viable, but she wasn’t home, and she wasn’t near a major hospital.

      She needed to get to a hospital. She needed help.

      Struggling to get clothes on, she leaned against the wall during another sharp contraction, panting through the pain. She made it out into the hallway but couldn’t take another step. The contractions were so close now. The baby was coming, and she feared the worst. She desperately needed help. She desperately needed Nikos.

      * * *

      Georgia opened her eyes. Bright lights shone into her eyes. There was a hum of voices and sound. A face wearing a surgical mask leaned over her, said something in Greek. Georgia had no idea what was said. She couldn’t feel anything. She closed her eyes again.

      The voices were just a murmur of sound, but it pulled her in. She struggled to follow. It was English. She should be able to understand. It was Nikos talking, but in English. He was talking to someone about the baby. She knew that someone, recognized the voice. A man...a lawyer, maybe? Mr. Laurent?

      She tried to open her eyes to ask about the baby, but they wouldn’t open. Or maybe they were open and she just couldn’t see...

      * * *

      This time when she opened her eyes she could see. The room was dark except for a glow of light by the door. She wasn’t alone, though.

      Turning her head, she spotted Nikos in a chair, close to her side of the bed. He was awake, watching her intently, and his fierce expression made her heart