Free A Perfect Wife: International Billionaires V: The Greeks by Caro LaFever Page B

did.
    Tall, blond, uptight.
    “ Den si̱maínei gia esás agnooún, Natalie . Eímaste óloi synklonisménoi aplá na dei ton Aetos metá dekaeptá chrónia .” The older woman cuddled into Nat’s arms.
    “She’s apologizing for ignoring you,” the helpful teenager said. “We’re just a bit excited to see Aetos after all this time.”
    The old lady lifted her head and smiled. Rough, gnarled hands slid across Nat’s cheeks and a coo of delight came from the withered mouth.
    “This is actually the first time I’ve ever met him,” the chatty teenager continued.
    The girl looked to be sixteen. The first time?
    “He’s been busy.” An older man, mustachioed, with dark eyes flashing, wagged a finger in reproof. “Making his fortune.”
    The old lady patted Nat’s cheek as her wise black eyes gleamed.
    “A fortune he shares with all of us,” piped in the young woman who held a now squirming baby in her arms.
    Surprise, surprise. Apparently, Zenos did have at least some connection to this tribe. Some degree of loyalty.
    “Seventeen years is far too long for anyone to be away from family.” The blunt statement came from another older lady. She frowned, a dark wedge of brow emphasizing the long blade of her nose.
    Suddenly, Nat detected one lone family trait Aetos Zenos shared with his relatives.
    The family nose.
    Following rapidly behind, came the words the older woman had said.
    Seventeen years.
    Seventeen years ?
    She must have tensed because the old lady in her arms patted her cheek again and tut-tutted in wordless comfort. Yet it wasn’t Natalie Globenko who needed comfort, it was this family. Who appeared to have been deserted by a family member in every way except for money. It seemed as if he genuinely thought money was the same as love. Or even worse, he thought money was more important than love. More important than kin.
    Like her father.
    “He has returned.” Another older man nodded in sage wisdom. “Returned to the Kourkoulos clan as we knew he would eventually.”
    A chorus of Greek agreement swirled around the room.
    Kourkoulos? Not Zenos? This must be his mother’s family. Where was his father? His father’s family?
    A thousand and one questions pinged in her brain. Nat assured herself it was merely her natural journalistic curiosity raising its head one more time. This was not about falling instantly in love with this gregarious group. This was certainly not about any need to know what made Aetos Zenos tick.
    She was playing a part. Playing his game. Nothing more.
    Glancing over the dark heads, she caught his gaze. She wanted to reach out and ask questions, demand answers, and more than anything, tell him he had such a treasure here in this loving family. But it wasn’t her place, it wasn’t her part.
    Without acknowledging any of them, he walked away.
    Leaving her with his family.

Chapter 7
    “ E pézi̱se apó ti̱ cheirourgikí̱ epémvasi̱ . I̱ prógno̱si̱ eínai kalí̱ .”
    His grandfather had survived the surgery. The prognosis was good.
    The prognosis was unexpected.
    For a moment, Aetos let the surgeon’s words sink into his skin, into his muscles, into his gut. For a moment, he nearly thought he’d stagger.
    For a moment.
    The light-green eyes of the female surgeon stared at him as if she expected more reaction. Some yell of relief or sob of gratitude. Or perhaps she expected him to clap or jump or even hug her.
    She waited in vain. None of those responses were part of him now. Or even in the distant past.
    “ Ef̱charistoúme .” His thanks were gruff and stilted. It was the best he could do.
    The surgeon’s dark brows rose and then fell into a frown. “ Oi epómenes eíkosi tésseris ó̱res tha eínai krísimes .”
    The next twenty-four hours. Critical.
    His pappoús was not out of the woods yet.
    The chug of fear twisted in his stomach. He blanked his mind, froze his jaw.
    She continued, her frown deepening, annoyance flashing in her eyes. “ Tha í̱tan kaló