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his arm. “You have to get them off this ship.”
    Not only did Theo have no idea what would happen to his sister and older brother, or their spouses, but what in hell would he do with two babies? Especially if this turned into a permanent situation?
    Forget the worst-case scenarios, he reminded himself. Deal with the moment at hand. By his estimation, he had to perform triage for twelve to twenty-four hours before he’d receive new information that would allow him to make a fresh decision.
    The limo driver came around to open the back door. Jaya emerged.
    Until he saw her and his tension bled away, he hadn’t realized how fearful he’d been that she wouldn’t come.
    The rotors had slowed to listless circles, but he was still struck by a sensation of wind gusting him off his feet. She was wearing her hair shorter, just long enough to touch her shoulders and it had a wave in it he’d never seen before. He liked it better than the tight, sleek bun. She looked younger and more carefree.
    Sexy.
    Not to say she wasn’t looking professional and confident at the same time. Her suit was tailored and chic, the scarf at her throat familiar. A deliberately distancing touch, he wondered, since it was not Makricosta colors?
    Are you going to tie me up with it?
    Do you want me to?
    She’d run her fingers through his hair and he’d almost died. Hell, he’d been so needy it was demoralizing.
    She smoothed her hands down her jacket, the navy and ice-yellow smart and flattering on her slender figure. Her big, round sunglasses stayed firmly in place as she waited by the open door of the car, not approaching.
    He motioned her to come into the interior of the helicopter. After a brief hesitation, she walked forward.
    “Mr. Makricosta—”
    He paused with one foot on the step and looked back at her, his ghostly reflection in her lenses a picture of one shielded face confronting another.
    “Theo,” he corrected, tempted to stand here until she said it, which was inane. If he’d had one plan when— if he ever saw her again, it was that he’d pretend they’d never slept together. Unfortunately, he kept hearing her whispery gasps of his name, lightly accented, in his dreams and wanted to know if he remembered it right.
    “Would you please tell me what is going on?” A hitch of panic entered her tone as he let her question launch him up the steps and into the helicopter. She followed, protesting, “I can’t go anywhere. I have commitments. Work and....”
    She didn’t finish, making him wonder what other commitments, but he didn’t press her. “You got my text. You know I need a room. Somewhere no one will expect me to hole up. When I said this was an emergency—”
    He indicated the two babies. He’d had the white leather seats outfitted with child harnesses so he could transport his siblings and their children, but the babies looked ridiculously tiny in the first-class armchairs.
    “ You have kids? ” she screeched, standing taller in the low-ceilinged inner lounge of the Eurocopter.
    Androu jerked awake and began to wail. Evie broke down into renewed tears.
    “Nice going,” he shot at Jaya.
    She stared at Androu, seeming to go yellow beneath her natural mocha tone. “How old is he?” she hissed.
    “They’re not mine,” he ground out, resisting a weird guilt attack even though he’d taken pains—and it had been painful—to ignore her messages and reinforce to her that she didn’t have any claim on him. “Help me get them into the car.” He handed her Androu and turned to unstrap Evie.
    She took the boy into her arms like a natural, which he’d known she would be, even though her lips were so pale and frozen he wondered if she’d ever smile again.
    It wasn’t in her to take out her feelings on a child, though. The first time he’d seen her, a blond German boy’s pale hand clutched in hers, he’d recognized her strong maternal instinct and liked her for it. Today she soothed Androu as she carried him