CHAPTER 55

She was beginning to believe she meant more than that to her now, but twenty-three years of thinking a certain way did not disappear overnight.

Letting her heart lead, she dropped to her knees beside her chair and hugged her. "I don't regret the fact that you raised me."

That, at least, wasn't a lie. No matter what strange thought had flitted through her head upon discovering each new aspect of this situation, she loved her mom. She always had. The more she told her about her dad, the more Ash realized in that way, she took after the man who had died before he'd had a chance to hold his babies.

Her laugh was hollow, but her return embrace was tight. "You're a gentle soul, Ashlyn Hemsworth. Very much like your father," she said, echoing her thoughts. "I didn't deserve him and I don't deserve you."

"Maybe," she allowed with a small smile as she returned to her seat beside Nikos, leaning against him slightly and drawing on his strength. "But you're stuck with me regardless."

"We'll fly to California to see Heather Grant tomorrow," her mom decided.

Nikos' arm returned to her shoulder and squeezed. "I am going with you."

Ash didn't even consider arguing. She craved his support. She turned to meet his dark gaze. "I would appreciate that."

He kissed her, his lips tender, his expression unfathomable. "Then it is settled."

They flew in Nikos' private jet to a small airport near the town that Heather Grant called home. She wasn't sure why they'd taken Nikos' plane instead of her mother's. But when Ash asked, her mother said only that Nikos preferred to do so. He and her mom worked while Ash fretted, but hid it behind a facade of relaxed boredom while flipping through one of the fashion magazines that featured shots of her sister.

Blade had provided a wealth of information on Emma's career. Ash had spent countless sleeping hours looking at pictures of her sister in "model mode" and wondering what went on behind her beautiful aqua gaze. Funny how the same color of eyes on Ash felt like nothing special, but on her model sister, they looked exotic and mysterious.

She rubbed at her own eyes, wishing she could take a nap, but knowing sleep would be ever elusive. She simply could not turn her brain off. She'd done a good job of keeping up the stoic front she'd spent a lifetime cultivating, but underneath, she wanted to crumple.

But a Hemsworth did not crumple and even if they did, she couldn't. Her mother and her sister needed her right now.

They were less than an hour into the flight and Ash was yawning for the fifth time when, without the slightest warning, she felt herself bodily lifted from her seat.

Gasping, she clutched at Nikos, the magazine fluttering to the floor of the cabin. "What are you doing?"

"You need rest." She wasn't having any trouble reading his expression now. He looked angry. "Have you slept a full night since the day you returned from Spain?"

"No," she admitted and let her head drop to lie in the curve of his neck. "But I'm not going to sleep now, either."

"We shall see."

She found herself smiling against his chest at his arrogance. "I can't. Honestly, Nikos. Too many things are whirling inside my head."

He ignored her words and carried her to the tiny bedroom in the back of the plane, kicking the door shut behind him once they were inside.

"This is pretty nice. My mother's jet doesn't have a bedroom," Ash remarked.

"I know. That is why we took mine."

"For the bedroom?"

"Yes. You are not sleeping. That is obvious to anyone with eyes. I was determined you would rest comfortably during the flight."

Unused to being cosseted, Ash found herself swallowing a suspicious lump in her throat. Even if she couldn't sleep, she appreciated the gesture. A lot.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You are welcome." He laid her down on the bed, arranging her so that her head rested on a nice fluffy pillow. "Comfortable?"

"Mmm…hmmm."

"Good." He sat on the end of the bed and took her shoes and thin socks off.

She wiggled her toes. "Um…thanks."

"Again…you are welcome."

But he did not stop there. Before she knew what he was doing, he'd unbuttoned her dark silk slacks and had them halfway down .

She grabbed his wrists. "What are you doing? You can't undress me," she hissed in a fierce whisper, not wanting her mother to hear.

Though it was highly unlikely, even in the well insulated cabin, flying created a lot of white noise that masked conversations even between people seated near one another.

"You cannot sleep with your clothes on. Relax,pethi mou. I will take care of you."

"I'm not going to sleep anyway," she protested. "There's no reason for me to get undressed."

"You will be more comfortable." With a deft move of his hands, he broke her hold on his wrists and had her slacks down her legs and off before she could do more than gasp. He folded them on a neat crease and hung them in the miniscule closet before turning back to face her. "Is that not better?"

Ash could only gape. Whether it was from sheer shock or that combined with her exhaustion, but her mind wasn't working properly. She should have scrambled under the covers, but she lay there in her blouse and panties and wondered what he would do next.

She found out when he sat beside her and began to unbutton her blouse.

Finally getting some semblance of wits about her, she twisted away and jumped off the bed. "I think I'll leave my blouse on. In fact, I should probably put my slacks back on and rejoin Mom."

The look in his eyes said she was going to get undressed and in that bed, like it or not. Too bad he was on the side by the closet and coincidentally, the door through which she wanted to escape. Though not half-dressed as she was.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't like being bossed around, Nikos."

He leaned back against the door, crossing his arms as well and giving her a look she was fairly certain outdid hers in the intimidation stakes. "I do not like seeing my woman ready to collapse from exhaustion."

"I'm not your woman."

He crossed that small room with the speed of a Jaguar and then stood towering over her. "We are at odds. I accept this. But you are mine."

"No," she whispered the denial that felt like a lie.

"Just as I am yours."

The words touched her deep inside where she did not want him to go again. And she shook her head, unable to give voice again to the denial her heart said she should not make.

His hands curved around her shoulders and he stepped closer so their bodies were mere inches apart. "So, you do not care if I bed another woman?"

Her heart screamed a denial, but she merely said, "Don't be crude," in her best approximation at a distant tone.

"Do not lie to me," he countered, his tone pure male censure.

She swallowed, wishing he wasn't so close…or that his nearness did not impact her so much. "I have no right to stop you from going to bed with another woman."

"I give you the right."

She opened her mouth, but she could not force a rejection to his offer from her throat.

He kissed her, briefly but firmly. "I give you the right," he repeated.

She couldn't say a word. To refuse the right was beyond her, but to accept it carried far too many connotations she was not prepared to deal with. She tilted her head back and kissed him, just as briefly and much more softly.

His eyes closed and he inhaled a deep breath before opening them again. "We will get there," he promised her. "Now, come. Let me care for you."

He lifted her again and put her back on the bed, his movements careful as if he did not want to startle her, but the implacable expression in his eyes said he expected her to rest.

Then, his eyes filling with a tenderness she could not fight, he finished unbuttoning her top and pulled it from her body. He hung it up and while he was beside the closet, he hung up his jacket, too. Their gazes locked. She sat up and curled her arms around her knees, but did not protest when he started taking off the rest of his clothes. He did not break the eye contact while he stripped to his silk shorts, neatly hanging everything up in the closet to be donned again later.