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Irresistible Greeks: Passion and Promises: The Greek's Marriage Bargain / A Royal World Apart / The Theotokis Inheritance
Susanne James
Maisey Yates
Sharon Kendrick
Scorching Passion & New PromisesXenon Kanellis has the perfect opportunity to get his wife, Lexi, back where she belongs – on his arm and in his bed. The island sun is no match for the heat between them, but passion can’t erase the memory of what tore them apart…With her life mapped out, Princess Evangeline Drakos plans to deter suitors. Controlled bodyguard Makhail Nabatov finds the impulsive princess tempting, but Makhail knows he must deny his desire – Eva is destined for another man…Helena was bound by the terms of a will to an infuriating arrogant Greek tycoon, who once broke her heart! Oscar Theotokis hasn’t been able to erase Helena’s innocent English beauty from his mind and vows that when he marries it will be for pure, unadulterated desire…



Irresistible Greeks: Passion & Promises
The Greek’s Marriage Bargain
Sharon Kendrick
A Royal World Apart
Maisey Yates
The Theotokis Inheritance
Susanne James



www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#u095909da-d3c2-5023-ada0-2ed1cc75de1a)
Title Page (#u1d96f019-3fab-5e1d-82bd-979a4a2612c3)
The Greek’s Marriage Bargain (#u9286e119-7297-5519-af4b-9edce596bf88)
Back Cover Text (#u106ec6bc-78c1-5445-84a4-e51da75ffe86)
Introduction (#ud1ca49e8-bbd6-5653-a995-36a2089a7409)
About the Author (#u5c62fdfc-1209-5433-a529-a3c026cf2c7c)
CHAPTER ONE (#uf4e72d46-72d0-5dff-920c-b2b416894ed7)
CHAPTER TWO (#u77720357-62f4-5a2f-b003-da2c8ee3e786)
CHAPTER THREE (#u1032191d-b197-5007-a8fa-3ab4934f2d1d)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u2661889f-ee94-57c7-8c01-df12141a840a)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ubb94125d-3e00-5873-8f80-39c44f9524e5)
CHAPTER SIX (#u16f79515-84cd-564a-85c7-4d85dbf8ead6)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ub0ad9fda-bb7e-58dc-959b-e9c7331e8172)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ue2401a47-cb9b-5024-9a8f-85b2335ed863)
CHAPTER NINE (#u420cde59-8d2c-5800-894d-337c6ae695cc)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
A Royal World Apart (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
The Theotokis Inheritance (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

The Greek’s Marriage Bargain (#ulink_0339ac0c-104c-50de-840c-5e0c283fe9f2)
Renewing their vows?
Xenon Kanellis is not a man who fails, and certainly not a man who gets divorced. Now with the perfect opportunity to get his wife back where she belongs—on his arm and in his bed—his immaculate record will be restored.
Lexi Kanellis needs her estranged husband’s help…even if that means playing the good Greek wife for a few more weeks. The island sun is no match for the reignited heat between them, but no amount of passion can erase the memory of what tore them apart.…
‘I’m waiting, Lexi.’ The sound of his impatient voice came in her ear.
‘You know that I don’t want to do it,’ she said.
‘And I’m asking you to reconsider.’
‘Ochi. Can’t be done. You will do what I want you to do.’
‘You’re a ruthless man, Xenon Kanellis.’
‘Insult me all you like,’ he said. ‘But my heart will not be swayed by your pleas.’
‘You have no heart!’
‘Then waste no more of my time with your futile protestations. Give me your answer, Lex—is it yes or no?’
There was a pause while she tried to fight it, but she realised she had no choice. ‘Yes,’ she breathed reluctantly.
‘Good.’
SHARON KENDRICK started story-telling at the age of eleven, and has never really stopped. She likes to write fast-paced, feel-good romances with heroes who are so sexy they’ll make your toes curl!
Born in west London, she now lives in the beautiful city of Winchester—where she can see the cathedral from her window (but only if she stands on tiptoe). She has two children, Celia and Patrick, and her passions include music, books, cooking and eating—and drifting off into wonderful daydreams while she works out new plots!
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_ab4e6d3f-189d-55de-9ef6-9410403bc262)
WHY HADN’T SHE been paying attention?
Why hadn’t she registered the horribly familiar sound of footsteps on gravel?
If Lexi hadn’t been thinking about silver earrings—the type which caught the light when you moved—she might have ignored the sharp ring on the bell. As it was, she was completely distracted when she pulled open the door to see the towering form of her estranged husband standing there, sunlight glinting off his ebony hair.
His stance was fixed and immovable. He seemed to absorb all the light which surrounded him, like a piece of blotting paper drinking up a dark spill of ink.
Lexi’s heart contracted with pain. The last time she’d seen him he’d been knotting his tie with fingers which had been trembling with rage. A blue tie, she recalled—which had matched his eyes perfectly.
His gaze licked over her now like a cobalt flame. She got the feeling he was undressing her with that gaze. Was he? Didn’t he once tell her that whenever a man looked at a woman he was imagining what it might be like to make love to her? And she had listened to him of course, because Xenon had been the expert when it came to sex and she had not. Her heart began to thump heavily in her chest.
Why was he here?
She wished she’d had time to brush her hair. She wasn’t trying to impress him, but even so—a woman still had her pride. She thought he looked shocked. As shocked as she felt—though she suspected his momentary loss of composure was for very different reasons. She knew she looked nothing like the woman he had married. The gilded creature who had gazed up at him from behind a misty veil of tulle was nothing but a distant memory. These days she wore the same clothes as other women. She did the same things as other women. No more couture and fast cars. Her hand strayed up to push an errant strand of hair behind her ear. No more expensive trips to the hair salon either.
While he, of course, looked exactly the same.
Six feet two and eyes of blue. Xenon Kanellis. An olive-skinned powerhouse of a man and a legend in his native Greece. A man with a face of dark and rugged beauty. And a man she had never wanted to see again.
‘X-Xenon,’ she said, her voice stumbling over a word she hadn’t said in a long time.
‘Thank heavens for that.’ He gave the sardonic smile she knew so well. ‘For a moment back then I thought you’d forgotten me.’
Lexi almost laughed because the suggestion was so ludicrous. Forget him? It would be easier to forget her own name. True, he wasn’t on her mind 24/7 the way he used to be when they’d first split. Before she had decided to take herself in hand. She’d known she would never recover if she continued to obsess about him. The stern talking-to she’d given herself had carried her through the worst. It got her through those bleak, dark days when she had missed him so much that it had felt as if someone had ripped her heart out and crushed it.
But she had recovered because people always recovered, even if at the time they never thought they would. And she had survived worse things than a marriage which should never have happened in the first place.
‘You’re not an easy man to forget, Xenon,’ she said, and then added as an afterthought, ‘More’s the pity.’
He laughed then but it sounded strange. Maybe she just wasn’t used to the sound of male laughter any more. Or the sight of a man—any man—turning up on the doorstep of her cottage and staring at her with such a disturbing sense of entitlement.
His blue eyes bored into her. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’
Something about his demeanour was unsettling and Lexi felt a flicker of foreboding. ‘Is there any point?’
‘You’re not even a bit curious to discover why I’m here?’ He gaze moved over her shoulder, to glance into the cosy interior of her cottage. ‘Why I’ve driven all the way down from London to this godforsaken little place you’ve chosen to live in?’
‘I imagine it must be for your benefit and yours alone,’ she answered. ‘And if that’s the case, then I’m not interested. I’ve got nothing to say to you that hasn’t already been said.’
‘I wouldn’t speak too soon if I were you, Lex.’
‘Veiled threats won’t work, Xenon.’ She gave him a tight smile. ‘Time after time you’ve refused to give me a divorce and we seem to have reached a stalemate. So unless you’ve got the papers with you, it’s going to have to be hello and goodbye. I’m sorry if you’ve had a wasted journey but...’
She began to close the door on him but was stopped by his frankly outrageous action of inserting one soft Italian shoe into the narrowing space. For a moment she actually thought about pushing all her weight against it but Lexi knew there was no point in trying. She was strong for a woman, but he was built like an ox. She remembered the first time he’d picked her up and carried her effortlessly to bed. How she had purred her pleasure out loud. Lexi shuddered at the memory. How could she even have been that woman?
‘I don’t need your strong-arm tactics,’ she said.
‘Tough.’
His eyes met hers and Lexi knew this was one battle she wasn’t going to win. ‘Then I suppose you’d better come in,’ she said ungraciously. ‘Perhaps you’d like to beat your chest like an ape while you’re at it?’
‘I might,’ he agreed. ‘I know how much that macho stuff turns you on.’
Don’t rise to it, she told herself even though she could tell from the cool smile on his face that he seemed to be enjoying this. But then Xenon thrived on battle, didn’t he? He liked the frisson and the taste of triumph. That was one of the reasons for his global success and his boardroom victories.
Over his shoulder, she could see his gleaming limousine parked awkwardly at the bottom of the tiny lane. It couldn’t have been more in-your-face if it had tried and she hoped none of her neighbours were home. She had tired of the fame which had once been hers and had done her best to leave it all behind. She worked hard at being normal. She’d spent time blending into her local community, trying to prove that she was just like everyone else. The last thing she wanted was for Xenon Kanellis to come along and blow all her efforts with one ostentatious display of wealth. ‘You’re taking up a lot of space with that gas-guzzling piece of machinery.’
‘You want me to ask my driver to move it?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘I could send her away for a couple of hours, if you like.’
Stupidly, one word registered above all the others. A word which echoed annoyingly in her head. ‘You have a female driver?’ she questioned, unprepared for the flash of primitive jealousy which shot through her.
‘Why not?’ He shrugged. ‘Weren’t you always telling me that I should practise a little more equality?’
‘Your idea of equality ended when women got the vote, Xenon. I thought you didn’t like female drivers? You went on about my driving often enough.’
‘That was different,’ he said, shutting the door behind him and giving her a patronising smile. ‘You are temperamentally unsuited to being behind the wheel of a car, Lex. Probably because of your artistic nature.’
She’d only been in his company for five minutes but already Lexi wanted to tip her head back and scream. But anger was good, she told herself. It kept the adrenalin flowing. It stopped her thinking about the pain of the past. It stopped her from wanting him. And that was the crazy and scary thing. That she still wanted him.
‘So why are you here?’ she asked. ‘To remind me how lucky I am not to have to put up with your sexist attitude any more—or is there something else on the agenda?’
For a moment Xenon didn’t answer. Instead, he let his eyes travel over her, slowly acquainting himself with someone he’d once known better than any other woman. But the truth was that he was taken aback by her appearance.
The Lexi he’d met and fallen in love with had been a glossy pop-star. A woman with fame at her fingertips and a world who couldn’t get enough of her. Sexy Lexi the press used to call her and they hadn’t been wrong. Everyone had told him she was the last woman he should have married. That a woman like her was ill suited to a man with such fiercely traditional Greek values. Even when she had abandoned her singing career and tried to play the good wife with varying degrees of success, people had still regarded her with suspicion and subsequent events seemed to have proved them right.
Yet the Lexi who stood before him now was a low-key version of the woman who had turned heads whenever she’d walked down the street. The shiny red hair—her trademark look—had gone. She still wore it long, but now it was back to its natural colour; it hung over one shoulder in a thick plait of strawberry-blonde. Gone were the contact lenses she was always losing and, instead, her silvery-green eyes were accentuated by a pair of dark-rimmed spectacles. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her wearing glasses before and they made her look oddly serious and surprisingly sexy. The only jewellery she wore was a pair of silver earrings—heavy twists of metal which caught the light as she moved.
In faded jeans and a plain cotton shirt, her transformation couldn’t have been more dramatic and it was hard to reconcile this new sober image with the glittering woman he’d married. But with Lexi, what you saw wasn’t necessarily what you got. Of every woman he’d ever known—and there had been quite a few—she had depths like no other. Hidden, mercurial depths which had captivated him from the start.
‘You’ve changed,’ he said slowly.
She answered his scrutiny with a shrug, even though she could feel the inevitable sting of wounded pride. Because she had seen that look in his eyes and had known exactly what it meant. She had been judged and found wanting and even if it shouldn’t hurt, it did.
If she’d known he was coming she would have put on some make-up and changed out of her old jeans. She might have disagreed with such a plan on principle, but what woman wouldn’t have made an effort if she’d known she was about to come face-to-face with one of the most desirable men in the world?
‘Most people change, Xenon,’ she said. ‘It’s one of the few certainties in life.’ But she thought that, as usual, he had managed to buck the trend, because everything about him seemed exactly the same. The same thick black hair, which could never quite be tamed, no matter how expensive his barber. The same effortless elegance—easy when you had a body of muscular perfection which radiated easy power. He always wore a suit when he was in England and today was no different. His only concession to the warm summer day had been to ditch his tie and loosen the top two buttons of his shirt, but that made him look disturbingly accessible. And he wasn’t, she reminded herself. He definitely wasn’t.
She fixed him with an inquisitive look, knowing that she needed to get rid of him and as quickly as possible. ‘So are you going to tell me why you’re here?’ she said. ‘Maybe it’s my lucky day and you have got those divorce papers. Or are you still stalling?’
Xenon tensed, her flippant tone reminding him of the essential differences between them. Keep reminding yourself of those, he thought grimly. ‘I prefer to think of it as giving time for the dust to settle rather than stalling. You know my views on divorce, Lex,’ he said. ‘Half the problems in this world can be laid at the door of broken marriages.’
‘But when two people can’t live together—what’s the alternative?’ she questioned. ‘A life of misery with two people trapped in a relationship which has become a nightmare? Surely the world has moved on from that?’
He ignored that. ‘Aren’t you going to invite me to sit down?’ His gaze flickered around the cluttered room. ‘To offer me some coffee and show me a little hospitality? Black mark for you, Lex. Have you forgotten all the things you learnt as my wife? Was all my tuition wasted?’
It was a dig at her background. She knew that. He was attacking her where she was at her most vulnerable—a position from which she could never fight back. But today she wasn’t going to take the bait because nobody could help where they came from. The only thing which mattered was the person they had become. And she had become a person who was no longer dazzled by the Greek billionaire’s arrogance or impeccable background.
‘I certainly haven’t forgotten your high-handedness and sense of privilege,’ she said coolly. ‘But since you’re clearly not going anywhere, we might as well do this with a degree of civility. Even if we both know it’s only a veneer.’
‘Oh, Lex,’ he murmured. ‘What a cynic you have become.’
‘I learnt from the very best,’ she retorted, leaving him standing in the middle of her sitting room as she went out into the kitchen to make coffee.
Her fingers were trembling as she boiled the kettle and spooned coffee into a pot. Why had he turned up now, when she’d just about got her life back on track? When she’d seen—if not exactly a light at the end of the tunnel—at least some hint that the world didn’t have to stay black and miserable for ever.
It hadn’t been easy, going from being a famous pop-star to wife of a global magnate—and then back to relative obscurity again. Sometimes her life seemed to have had more transitions than a quick-change artist. The failure of her marriage had been almost unbearably painful at times, but she had come through it. She had survived.
But now it all came rushing back. The pain and the fear. The look on Xenon’s face when he’d finally arrived at the hospital with eyes like stone, when she’d lost her baby. The second pregnancy she had failed to carry. When she’d discovered just how unbearably painful a late miscarriage could be. The memory was so overwhelming that for a moment Lexi had to lean over the sink, sucking in several deep breaths of air until she’d composed herself enough to go back into the sitting room.
She set the tray down. He was sitting in a chair which seemed too small for him and his brooding figure seemed to dominate the room.
‘So,’ she said, handing him a cup. But she didn’t sit down and join him. She didn’t want to do anything remotely intimate because that was fraught with danger. She perched her bottom on the window sill, thinking that looking down on him from a height might give her something of a psychological advantage.
‘So,’ he echoed. Pushing aside a pile of brochures which were piled up on the coffee table, he put his cup down and looked around. ‘This is a bit of a fall from grace, isn’t it?’
She knew it was stupid to react but, even so, Lexi couldn’t stop herself from bristling with indignation. ‘This is my home and I love it,’ she said. ‘At least I can close the door at the end of the day and know that I’ll find peace inside.’
‘But it is small. Surprisingly small.’ He fixed his gaze on two goldfish which were swimming round and round in a bowl. Goldfish? Since when did his wife start keeping fish? He frowned. ‘I realise that no alimony has been finalised—’
‘And I’ve told you that I don’t need your money!’
‘Which is clearly not true if you’re having to live like this.’
‘I like living like this!’
‘Do you? Yet you walked away from a life where you had homes all over the world—beautiful homes?’
‘They were your homes, Xenon, not mine.’
‘And now they tell me you are working as a jewellery designer?’
‘They?’ Lexi raised her eyebrows. ‘No need to ask how you found that out. I suppose you hired some private investigator to spy on me.’
‘I don’t consider finding out a few basic facts about my wife to be “spying”,’ he answered. ‘I’m just intrigued by the life you’ve chosen. You earned a fortune when you were with the band. What’s happened to all the money?’
She sucked in a breath, tempted to tell him to mind his own business. Because it wasn’t his business and he had no right delving into it. But Lexi knew how persistent he could be. How he liked the facts to be laid out in front of him. If he wanted to know something he was only going to find out anyway—because when you were a man like Xenon Kanellis, you could find out pretty much anything you pleased.
‘A lot of it went on my...family.’
‘Ah, yes. Your family.’ He picked up his coffee and sipped it, wincing slightly at the weakness of the brew. Her background had added to her general unsuitability as a Kanellis wife. She came from the kind of dysfunctional family which had been completely outside his experience. Her mother had never been married and her three children had been fathered by unknown and absent men. The ramshackle, gypsy-like quality of Lexi’s home life had appalled him—but even that had not been strong enough to take the edge off his hunger for her. He had brushed aside suggestions that two people from such differing backgrounds might never find any mutual areas of compatibility and had married her anyway. ‘How are they?’
Lexi’s eyes narrowed with suspicion because there was an odd note in his voice and it was alarming her. Xenon didn’t usually enquire solicitously about her family and he certainly didn’t drive nearly two hundred miles in order to do so. In the past she might have asked him why he wanted to know—when she was still in that honeymoon phase of believing that things like that mattered. When all their dreams had been intact and lying ahead of them. But she had moved beyond that phase a long time ago and his opinions were no longer relevant.
‘They’re okay,’ she said.
‘Really?’
She met his eyes and gave a sigh of resignation. ‘Look, you’ve obviously got something on your mind—so why not just come out and say it?’
There was a pause. ‘I’ve seen your brother.’
‘My brother?’ she echoed in alarm, because this could only mean trouble. Hiding her sudden sense of fear, she composed her features into an expression of mild interest. ‘Which one?’
‘I think you know very well which one. Jason.’
Lexi’s heart was now going, thud, thud, thud. Jason. Of course. Jason who had been trouble from the moment he was born. Still she kept the tremble from her voice, trying to make her question sound as indulgent as the question of any caring sister. ‘What did he want?’
Xenon put his cup down with a small sound of exasperation, watching as her heavy-lidded eyes suddenly became hooded. ‘Let’s dispense with the air of innocence, shall we? You’re not stupid, Lexi. What do you think he wanted?’
The invisible hand which was clenched around her heart grew even tighter and Lexi knew that the time for pretence had passed. ‘Money, I’m guessing,’ she said numbly.
‘Money!’ he agreed. ‘That thing he can’t do without. The one thing he’s never bothered to earn himself throughout his useless, idle life.’
‘Please don’t insult him.’
‘Oh, come on—isn’t that taking sisterly loyalty a little too far? Since when did the truth become an insult—or have you spent so long avoiding it that you just don’t see it any more? And maybe here’s a truth you really should take on board.’ His body stilled and his eyes grew watchful. ‘Don’t you see that giving him everything he wants has helped make him the man he is today?’
Furiously, she shook her head and glared at him. Because how would someone like Xenon ever understand? Xenon who had been born into a world of lavish wealth. He hadn’t known what it was like to come home from school to an empty fridge. To have to cut a hole at the top of your shoes because you’d outgrown them.
In Xenon’s world there had been relatives—far too many of them in her opinion—and servants, who had all doted on him. He’d never had to go to the police station to bail out his drunken mother and then to lie about it to social services, terrified that the family would be split up if the truth ever emerged. He’d never had to hold a terrified and sobbing child who had woken up from yet another nightmare to discover that the real world could be infinitely worse.
‘You don’t understand,’ she said.
‘Oh, I think I do,’ he said coldly. ‘Jason has found that the well of easy money you’ve always provided has run dry—so who better to turn to than his wealthy brother-in-law?’
The thudding of her heart increased. ‘What does he want money for?’
‘Why do you think? To mop up the mess he’s made of his life with his gambling addiction.’
Lexi closed her eyes as a terrible sense of inevitability crept over her. She’d tried everything to help Jason with his gambling habit. In the early days she had sat down and talked to him and he had lied through his teeth and told her he’d quit. She’d believed every word he’d said as she’d signed over yet another cheque supposed to help put him back on the straight and narrow. Or maybe she had just wanted to believe it. Later, she had paid for the first of many visits to the rehab clinic—until he was kicked out of the last one for starting up a poker school with his fellow patients.
She opened her eyes to find Xenon studying her. ‘I expect that you told him no and sent him away,’ she said. ‘In fact, I’m rather hoping you did. The last counsellor I spoke to told me that I should “withdraw with love”.’ She saw the perplexed look on Xenon’s face as he heard the term and she remembered how disparaging he’d been about people who had sought professional help for their problems. ‘It means you have to stop giving him money and bailing him out. It’s supposed to make him take control of his own life.’
‘Actually, I didn’t send him away.’
‘You didn’t give him money?’ Her voice rose in alarm. ‘That’s what’s known in the business as “enabling”.’
‘I don’t give a damn what it’s known as!’ he bit out. ‘I’m more concerned with the consequences of his actions.’
Her fear growing by the second, Lexi blinked at him from behind her glasses. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about the fact that Jason has borrowed money. Lots of it. Against your name—and against mine as it happens, since we are still legally married and the Kanellis connection is like liquid gold.’ Resolutely, he ignored the horrified widening of her eyes. ‘He has built up the kind of debts which made even my eyes water—and I’m no stranger to large sums of money—’
‘How much?’ she butted in.
He told her and Lexi blanched because she didn’t have that kind of money. Not any more.
‘And the kind of people he’s borrowed it from tend to get rather...angry if they don’t get their loans back,’ he continued.
Lexi’s hand flew to her mouth. She could feel the hot rush of breath against her fingers as Xenon’s blue gaze iced into her. ‘What are we going to do?’
Xenon nodded as a grim feeling of satisfaction washed over him, because that was the first sensible thing she’d said. We. ‘It looks like I’m going to have to pay off his debt for him—’
‘But—’
‘There’s no alternative, unless you happen to have the money sitting stashed away. That is, unless you want his pretty face altered out of all recognition?’ His eyelashes suddenly narrowed, so that his eyes looked like shards of blue ice. ‘These people can be dangerous, you know.’
Lexi knew about danger. She’d grown up surrounded by it. And hadn’t that been one of the best things about her sudden fame—that she’d been able to escape from the dark and seedy side of life? The last thing she wanted was for Jason to be catapulted back to that place, where nothing seemed safe. She looked at Xenon’s hard features, realising that he was offering to help. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me until you’ve heard what it entails,’ he said. ‘I’ll pay off his debt for him—but this time, he doesn’t go back to his old life and repeat the same old pattern. And neither does he go into some fancy clinic where he uses that abundance of Gibson charm to manipulate his counsellors.’
‘So what are you proposing he does?’ she questioned. ‘Apply for a personality transplant?’
‘Nothing quite so drastic. My solution is simple. He needs to change. To work his body like a man. To see the sun come up in the morning and put his head on the pillow at night, instead of spending it in the casino, like a zombie.’ His eyes bored into her. ‘And maybe he wants to change because he has agreed to go to work for one my cousins in Greece.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘On one of the family’s vineyards,’ he continued. ‘Your darling brother has agreed to do some hard, physical labour for the first time in his life.’
She stared at him in disbelief. ‘He’s agreed?’
‘I didn’t give him very much choice in the matter,’ he snapped. ‘It was my condition for bailing him out.’
Lexi felt a worrying see-saw of emotions as she took in what he’d just told her. He could be so hard and indomitable that it was all too easy to forget his streak of kindness.
But he hadn’t been kind when she’d most needed him to be, had he? He hadn’t been there for her at all when she’d reached out for him. He had pushed her away until there had been nothing but distance left between them any more.
‘So...why come here and tell me all this?’ she questioned.
He gave a cold, hard smile. ‘No ideas, Lex? You think I should bail out your brother just out of the goodness of my heart?’
She met the obdurate look in his eyes and a whisper of fear began to creep over her skin as she realised what lay behind his words. ‘You mean...there’s a price?’
‘There is always a price,’ he said softly. ‘I would have thought you’d have learned that by now. And the price is that I want you back as my wife.’
Lexi’s lips opened as if in slow motion, though no words emerged. She could feel the sudden thunder of her heart and a great rush of unexpected excitement because hadn’t some rogue part of her always dreamt of just this moment? That Xenon would come back and tell her he was willing to forgive her for walking out. Willing perhaps to try again.
But even as hope flared inside her with a bright, sharp heat, she forced herself to quash it. Because their marriage could never be saved. She knew that. The past held too much sorrow and there could be no future. They might go through the motions of reconciliation—but now a darkness lay at the heart of what they’d once had. And Xenon would never be able to tolerate it.
‘Your wife?’ she echoed.
His mouth hardened. ‘There’s no need to look so horrified,’ he said. ‘It’s purely a short-term measure.’
Lexi only just stopped herself from shuddering at her own foolishness, terrified that he would know the crazy thoughts she’d been entertaining. Did she really think that Xenon would be willing to try again? That a man that proud and powerful would be willing to forget the fact that she’d ‘humiliated’ him with her desertion.
Blankly, she stared at him. ‘But why? Why on earth would you want to resurrect our marriage?’
Xenon watched the way she lifted her shoulders in confusion and the gesture made the fabric of her shirt ride over the generous curve of her breasts. The eyes behind her glasses were the silver-green colour of eucalyptus leaves—only right now they were dark with bewilderment. And suddenly he felt a stab of lust so powerful that he could have pressed her down onto the carpet and made her come alive in his arms.
‘My sister is having her baby daughter christened and I want you beside me.’
The impact of his words was like a series of small, sharp knives aimed straight at her heart. It hurt to think of his sister managing to produce the first of the next generation. It shouldn’t have done, but it did. For her to have succeeded where she herself had failed so badly somehow seemed to bring it all back again. ‘I...I’d heard Kyra was married, of course,’ she stumbled. ‘And that she was pregnant. It just all seems to have happened so quickly.’
He gave a short laugh. ‘It was a whirlwind romance, it’s true. But you’ve been gone two years now, Lex. Or did you imagine that the world would stop turning the moment you walked out of my door?’
Lexi’s breath was coming in shallow and rapid little bursts. For a minute she actually felt faint. Concentrate on the facts, she told herself. Try to talk him out of this insanity. ‘Why would you want me there when we’re divorcing? When my attendance there would only excite gossip and comment?’ She fixed him with a look of appeal, as if from one reasonable person to another. ‘Surely you don’t want that, Xenon?’
‘It’s not just the christening,’ he said and now his voice took on a dark and sombre note. ‘My grandmother is ill. In fact, she’s very ill and they’ve brought forward the christening, even if she’s not actually well enough to attend.’
Despite everything, Lexi’s heart turned over. ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ she said. ‘I know how much you love your grandmother. But your family won’t want me there, Xenon—especially not at such an emotional time. Your mother always thought I was the worst possible wife you could have chosen. You know that. And that kind of feeling could spoil the atmosphere and ruin the day for Kyra. What’s it going to be like if I suddenly waltz back to Rhodes on your arm?’
‘My family will do what I want them to do,’ he stated flatly. ‘And I want you there.’
Lexi glared. How could she have forgotten his controlling nature? His desire to make everything in the world happen the way that he wanted it to? ‘You still haven’t answered my question, Xenon. Why me, after everything that’s happened? There must be hundreds of women who would make more suitable partners. Your little black book was certainly bursting at the seams before I came along.’
‘But you were the only woman I married. And my marriage is the only thing in my life which could be considered a failure.’ His eyes were steely now. They gleamed with a determination she recognised only too well. ‘I don’t like failure—perceived or otherwise—and it will make my grandmother happy to see us together again. She believes in marriage. At the end of her life it will please her to discover that her favourite grandson is back with his wife.’
‘But that’s...that’s dishonest.’
‘More dishonest than you promising to love and to cherish me, until death us do part? Were you remembering those vows when you walked out and broke them?’
To Lexi, this was nothing but a cold-blooded manipulation of the truth, but she bit back her objections. What was the point of trying to reason with him when he would tie her up in knots with his clever, educated arguments? She wouldn’t go to pieces in front of him. She couldn’t afford to. She needed to be strong. ‘I won’t do it, Xenon,’ she said quietly.
‘But you don’t have a choice. Not if you want to save your brother’s skin. I suggest you think about it.’ His coffee barely touched, he rose to his feet. ‘I’ll give you until tomorrow lunchtime to make up your mind.’
She watched him as he walked over to the door and Lexi felt like a person clinging to the edge of a cliff whose fingers were slowly slipping. Suddenly the once solid surface of her life was crumbling away and she was losing her grip.
‘And if I don’t?’
His smile was as cold as steel. ‘Then I throw your brother to the wolves.’
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_dca4e3e0-5122-56bc-8846-25bf76862e44)
THE NIGHT SEEMED endless and Lexi spent most of it awake, shivering like someone with a fever although the July air was warm. Her nerves felt shot and when the first pale light of dawn began to appear, she gave up all attempts to sleep and pulled back the curtains to watch the sun rise.
But it was difficult to concentrate on anything—even the explosion of light outside her window, which normally filled her with pleasure. Seeing her estranged husband again had stirred up all kinds of feelings—feelings she’d done her best to suppress after the end to her marriage. She’d felt devastated and bereft when it had failed, even though people had done their best to reassure her. They’d said that was the way everyone felt when a marriage ended and she knew that to some extent that was true. But Lexi’s pain had been compounded by the loss of their baby.
The thought of that tiny lost scrap of life was still painful and so she got up and dressed before taking herself outside for a walk. Cutting across the fields at the back of the cottage, she walked towards the sea until she had reached the shoreline. The tide was out and it was early enough to still be deserted—with only a lone dog walker striding across the sands.
Her life had taken so many twists along the way. It hadn’t turned out the way she’d expected it to—but then, whose life ever did? She had settled in this beautiful part of Devon, an existence which some might have considered dull—but Lexi revelled in the peace and quiet she’d found here after the high-octane experiences of her past.
But she still had responsibilities, no matter how much she sometimes wished she could shrug them off. She’d been a quasi mother to her two siblings. Jake was in Australia now and seemed to be forging a successful career for himself. But Jason was a different story. She’d been at her wit’s end with his ongoing problems. She’d thought—hoped—that the reason she hadn’t been able to get hold of him had been because he was sorting himself out. Only it seemed that his problems were much worse than she’d thought.
She bent to pick up a shell as she thought about the possibility that her little brother could be in danger and the solution which Xenon was offering.
There is always a price, he had said in that very Greek way of his. And surely the price was too high. How could she bear to spend time pretending to be his wife when barely an hour in his company had left her wanting to climb the walls?
Yet could she deny her brother this chance because she didn’t have the guts to face the man she’d married? What was she so afraid of?
Him. She was afraid of Xenon and the way he made her feel. She was afraid of the things he made her want. Things she could never give him.
She put the shell in her pocket and headed for home. The breeze had whipped her hair into a wild frizz, but at least her cheeks had gained some colour by the time she got back to the cottage. She tried ringing Jason but as usual his phone was switched off and her imagination began to work overtime, and to scare her.
If she denied him this chance for selfish reasons, then wouldn’t she spend her life waiting for the knock on the door? The sombre voices of the police telling her that her baby brother had been found in a ditch somewhere?
She picked up the phone and dialled Xenon’s number, only to be told that he was in a meeting. But when she gave her name, the tone of the woman answering seemed to change and there was a click before Xenon himself came on the line.
‘Lex?’
Still taken aback by the fact that he’d actually interrupted a meeting to speak to her, Lexi forced herself to respond. ‘Yes, it’s me.’
‘You’ve made a decision?’
‘I have.’ She kept her voice low and her answers short—afraid she would betray some kind of emotion if she said too much. And the most stupid emotion of all was the hunger welling up inside her. The terrible aching deep in her heart, which made her long for the love they’d once shared.
Maybe it was because the telephone could sometimes play tricks with you. Speaking to someone without seeing the look in their eyes could make you feel as if nothing awful had ever happened. That you were still the same two people who would meet at the end of the day. Suddenly, it was frighteningly easy to imagine him pulling her into his arms and kissing her. Holding her tightly against his big, strong body as he’d done at the beginning. When for the first time in her life she’d felt safe.
She gave a wry smile. She should have known it was too good to be true. What was it that they said? That the honeymoon never lasted. And they were right. Because almost as soon as they had returned from their trip to Rhodes, her husband had given himself over to his real love. The work which defined him and drove him and which had made him one of the world’s most successful businessmen.
‘I’m waiting, Lex,’ came the sound of his impatient voice in her ear.
‘You know that I don’t want to do it,’ she said. ‘And I’m asking you to reconsider.’
‘Ochi. Can’t be done. You will do what I want you to do.’
‘You’re a ruthless man, Xenon Kanellis.’
‘Insult me all you like,’ he said. ‘But my heart will not be swayed by your pleas.’
‘You have no heart!’
‘Then waste no more of my time with your futile protestations. Give me your answer, Lex—is it yes or no?’
There was a pause while she tried to fight it, but she realised she had no choice. ‘Yes,’ she breathed reluctantly.
‘Good.’
She heard the unmistakeable triumph in his voice. She could imagine him sitting in the chair at his desk, swivelling it around so that he could gaze out at the London skyline. And she could have screamed.
‘We need to discuss practicalities,’ he was saying.
‘I agree.’ She drew in a deep breath because this bit was much better done on the phone, away from the calculating gleam of his eyes. ‘So let’s kick off by saying that this is not going to be a real marriage in any sense of the word. Let’s call it a masquerade, shall we? The mask I’ll wear in public won’t come off in private. Do you understand?’
‘I think it’s a consideration which can be discussed at a future date,’ he answered smoothly. ‘When can you be here? Tomorrow?’
‘Are you out of your mind?’ Lexi gripped the telephone. ‘I can’t just pack up and go! There are things I need to take care of. It may surprise you to know that I have a life here.’
There was a pause. ‘Or a man? An eager lover you can’t bear to leave behind?’
Lexi almost laughed at how far he was from the truth. How she would have loved to tell him that, yes, there was a man. Someone who thrilled her whenever he touched her, as Xenon had always thrilled her. But there had been no one else. Sometimes she doubted that there ever would be. ‘I’m sure that your spies must have reported back to you that currently there’s no man.’
‘Currently?’ he echoed.
‘None of your damned business. One of the perks of being separated is that it means you’re free to start dating.’
She heard what sounded like Xenon trying to control his angry breathing and she gave a small smile of satisfaction.
‘Don’t push me too hard,’ he growled. ‘What do you need to take care of?’
‘Well, there’s my goldfish, for a start. There’s also my jewellery business. I may work for myself but I still have some commissions which I need to finish. When is...?’ The lump which had suddenly risen out of nowhere now lodged itself deep in her throat. ‘When is the christening?’
‘Next week. I’ll send my car for you on Friday and we’ll fly out on Saturday. Make sure you’re ready at noon,’ he said, and cut the connection.
Lexi was left clutching the phone, her hand shaking with rage. He was so authoritative. So used to getting what he wanted. He hadn’t even given her a chance to tell him that she would drive herself up to London. Or should she just let herself be whisked away in his fancy, chauffeur-driven car—no doubt in a demonstration of how easily he could flex his power?
She drew in a deep breath, knowing that she shouldn’t sweat the small stuff. She was doing this for Jason—and all she had to do was to get through it.
She spent the rest of the week finishing up her commissions and thinking about whether she should make something for Kyra’s baby. It would make sense and at least it would guarantee that her gift would be unique.
Her career as a jeweller was building slowly, but surely—though at the moment it was confined mainly to locals, with the occasional holidaymaker. Learning how to make silver jewellery had been one of the best decisions she’d ever made. She’d liked the combination of the practical and the artistic and it still thrilled her every time someone liked one of her designs enough to buy one.
Just last week an old man had ordered a chunky brooch for his wife, to celebrate fifty years of marriage. He obviously enjoyed chatting and started telling Lexi all about his long-ago wedding day. She had felt herself getting emotional as his rheumy old eyes welled up with tears and she thought it made her own marital record of two years seem like a mockery.
Picking up a lump of silver, she thought again about the new baby and, although she always steered clear of designing for infants on the grounds that it was too painful, she set to work. Because she had adored Xenon’s little sister and she had felt almost guilty that the breakdown of her marriage meant that communication with her had been severed. Somehow this handmade gift for Kyra’s firstborn seemed important, and significant. She worked long into the night and most of the next day too, until she had fashioned the small silver charm to her satisfaction.
On Friday, she had only just closed up her workshop and finished packing when Xenon’s car arrived. Lexi tried not to be intimidated by the female driver who jumped out of the luxury limousine to open the door for her, but it wasn’t easy. The wafer-thin woman who introduced herself as Charlotte certainly made her fitted uniform look sexy. Lexi started wondering if there was anything going on between her and Xenon, until she remembered his strict rule about fraternising with the staff. He’d told her it was an important lesson his father had taught him: that you should never sleep with someone you might one day have to sack.
She pushed the thought away, troubled by how much it bothered her. Because it shouldn’t bother her. Xenon could sleep with who he liked. They were separated. They were getting a divorce.
She spent the journey watching as countryside morphed into city and her stomach contracted with apprehension as the car drew up outside the gleaming monolithic tower of the Kanellis headquarters.
She gazed up at the plate-glass-and-steel building, reluctantly remembering the last time she had been here. It had been at some company ‘do’ when the cracks were already beginning to appear in their marriage.
Xenon had been tired and fractious. He’d been working away—again—and had come to the party straight from the airport. He had eyed the close-fitting cocktail dress she’d been wearing with the expression of a hungry lion being offered a piece of raw meat and had then proceeded to accuse her of flirting with another man. As if. He didn’t seem to get that no other man existed for her. She remembered him being angry in the car afterwards and then she’d been angry right back, complaining that he always made her feel like some sort of object or possession. The simmering silence in which they’d sat had grown ever-more resentful, but that hadn’t stopped him from practically ripping off her dress the moment they’d arrived home. Or her doing the same with his trousers...
Her breath already dry in her throat, Lexi reached down for her suitcase, but Charlotte must have been watching from the driver’s mirror.
‘Don’t worry about that, Mrs Kanellis. I’ll take care of your case,’ she said.
Lexi wondered if it was worth going to the trouble of explaining that she no longer used her married name, but decided not to bother. ‘Thanks very much.’ She gave the young woman a warm smile. ‘You’re a great driver.’
But her nerves returned when she went into the building, her footsteps clicking as she made her way across the marbled foyer to the executive lift. Stroking her clammy palms down over her dress, she tried not to feel claustrophobic as she rode up towards Xenon’s penthouse office. The smoked mirrors threw back distorted images of her face and the dress she wore seemed to have leeched all the colour from her skin and she suddenly felt terribly provincial. It was a long time since she had been somewhere like this, somewhere where you could almost smell the scent of money.
Xenon’s was a success story which business schools used as a template aimed at people for whom no glass ceiling was too high. Born into a wealthy Greek family, he had assumed control of the Kanellis empire after the sudden death of his father—only to discover that the family finances were failing.
Although prodigiously young, Xenon had been undaunted by the task which lay ahead of him, and the fact that the markets had crashed soon afterwards. He had quickly discovered that he possessed the gifts of financial foresight coupled with nerves of steel. He had seen the need to diversify in order to cope with the changeable economic climate and he had done this while assuming the role as head of his extended Greek family, with all the responsibilities that involved.
Through sheer hard graft and dedication, he had revitalised the family shipping line and then added a chain of luxury shops. A newspaper and publishing house had increased the growing value of his portfolio, and during one economic downturn he had bought the rights of a screenplay written by an unknown student. It had captured the Zeitgeist of the time and My Crazy Greek Father had become the surprise global smash-hit of the year.
But the film had dug much deeper into the national psyche of Greece than the usual stereotypical jokes about sex before marriage and the benefits of moussaka. It had charted the rich and complex history of a beautiful and often misunderstood country. It had detailed wars and defeat. It had chronicled heartbreak and triumph—and had won a plethora of awards for it, included a much-coveted Oscar. The stardust of Hollywood had still been clinging to Xenon’s skin when Lexi had met him, some years later, when she had just embarked on an ill-judged solo career.
She knew that Xenon deserved his success. She knew he had worked hard for it and that he still did. But hadn’t his insatiable appetite for even more success helped drive a wedge between them? Hadn’t his ambition grown so big that it had dominated their lives and left her feeling pushed out and resentful?
She had been unable to be the wife he needed, or provide the heir which his fierce Greek pride had demanded. Xenon had wanted perfection and Lexi was a long way from perfection.
The lift pinged to a halt and she walked into the outer office to find a blonde—another blonde!—she didn’t recognise seated behind the large desk. Her predecessor had been there for years and Lexi had liked the middle-aged woman who had acted as gatekeeper to the Greek billionaire. It was a little disconcerting to see this new and rather glamorous incumbent rifling through a pile of papers with her shiny pink nails.
The blonde was looking at her and smiling. ‘Mrs Kanellis?’
Once again, the words sounded shockingly wrong. Like waking up and finding you were in someone else’s body. Lexi wondered how it would go down if she blurted out that she was not really Mrs Kanellis. That she and her estranged husband hadn’t shared a bed in almost two years and that Xenon had steadfastly refused to grant her the divorce she wanted. How would the blonde react to that?
But she said none of these things. Instead, she gave the polite smile which was expected of her even if behind it she was gritting her teeth. ‘That’s right.’
‘Mr Kanellis is expecting you. He said to ask whether you would like anything to drink after your journey.’
Tempted to ask for a mild sedative, Lexi nodded. ‘A cup of tea would be great.’
‘Tea it is. I’ll bring some right in.’
A discreet buzzer sounded on the desk and Lexi watched as the blonde smoothed her hand over her already immaculate hair. And that unconscious gesture told her more than a thousand words ever could, because she’d seen it so many times before. She’d seen it with shop assistants and bar staff, with airline stewardesses and female executives. It was a mixture of adoration and availability and it told her that Xenon could still get women adoring him, without even having to try.
‘You can go in now, Mrs Kanellis.’
‘Thanks.’ Tucking her bag under her arm, Lexi headed for the inner sanctum and walked into Xenon’s office, shutting the door behind her.
It was an impressive room. One hundred and eighty degrees of glass overlooked some of the most expensive real estate in the capital. In among the skyscrapers were dotted the roofs of famous monuments, looking so out of scale that they would have seemed more at home in a doll’s house.
But Lexi barely noticed the view. Xenon dominated that, just as he dominated everything else around him. He was seated at his desk, surveying her with the stillness of the natural predator. His black hair was tousled, as if he had been running impatient fingers through it. He’d loosened his tie—unless the smooth blonde had been responsible—revealing a glimpse of olive flesh which looked warm and inviting. It was only a little thing, but Lexi hadn’t been prepared for it. It was too intimate. It reminded her of too much. She knew that the hair began at the top of his chest and arrowed all the way down to his groin. She knew the way she used to scrape her fingernails through it and the way he used to moan in response. It was a mental picture she would have preferred not to have created and it made her cheeks grow hot.
‘Sit down,’ he said.
Her legs felt weak and she was glad to sink into the chair opposite his. Beneath the filmy folds of her dress, she pushed her knees together, looking at the various trophies around his office. There was the Oscar carelessly standing next to a set of leather-bound books by the great Greek philosophers. On one of the walls hung the platinum disc awarded for the colossal sales of his film’s soundtrack and there were several citations from various business schools. A small sculpture by a former Turner Prize winner stood next to a sofa on which he sometimes catnapped, if he was working all night. All in all, it was a very impressive room which spoke volumes about its occupant.
‘So.’ She looked at him with challenge in her eyes. ‘Here I am.’
‘Here you are,’ he agreed slowly.
‘Why here?’ she questioned. ‘I mean, why bring me to your office? So you could work right up to the last possible minute, I suppose. Or to remind me of what a successful man you are?’
‘Surely you don’t need reminding of that?’ he mocked.
‘Funnily enough, your achievements aren’t the first things I think about, on waking.’
‘It’s neutral territory,’ he said. ‘Plus you know that I never like to waste time. Why wait for you at the house, when I could be doing something constructive here?’
She met the hard gleam of his blue eyes. ‘So work still rules, does it?’ she questioned. ‘You’re still that man who can never say no to earning an extra dollar even though you’ve got the kind of wealth which could probably bankroll the economy of a small country.’
For a moment Xenon didn’t answer. Instead, he just mused on the fact that nobody had ever spoken to him with quite the same degree of insolence as his wife. He watched as she pressed her beautiful knees together and thought she looked a damned sight more respectable today than when he had turned up announced. No. That was the wrong word. You could never use the word ‘respectable’ about a woman he could imagine in various states of undress, every time he looked at her.
Lexi wearing nothing but a thong as she’d walked towards their bed.
Lexi sunbathing topless during their honeymoon.
Lexi connecting with something dark and irresistible deep inside him. Something which had enchanted and infuriated him in equal measure, because she had possessed an indefinable power over him and he had resented that.
The first time he’d seen her, he had wanted to ravish her. He had wanted to blot out the rest of the world, so that it was just her and him. It was as simple and as complicated as that and he could remember the moment as if it were yesterday.
She’d recently broken up from her band to launch herself into a solo career. One of her first gigs had been at a big charity function in Bel Air and Xenon had gone along because he’d been a fan of the charity, not of her. He didn’t like trashy women who flaunted their bodies and from what he’d heard and seen of The Lollipops all three women had done exactly that in order to get to the top.
With his current squeeze clinging to his arm, he had walked into the crowded ballroom with his prejudices intact and had seen a woman with bright red hair standing on the stage. He had watched her writhing around in a sequinned mini-skirt and had grown hard. He couldn’t ever remember feeling quite so turned on as he’d been by Lexi Gibson. It had been exquisite and captivating and so had she. His date forgotten, he had been bewitched by the pale-faced singer.
It had been more difficult than he would have imagined to facilitate a meeting with her. She’d given him the runaround and he got the feeling that she wasn’t playing games. She had refused to return his calls and he had been forced to attend her concerts like some run-of-the-mill fan. He’d sent her enough flowers to open a florist’s until she had sent him a short note, requesting that the flowers stop. Intrigued and entranced, he had agreed to her request, but only if she would agree to meet him for a drink first. One lousy drink, that was all it had been—but he hadn’t been expecting to come away from it still feeling completely smitten. But now it seemed that the feeling had been mutual...
They’d started dating—but it turned out she didn’t trust men. It had taken him three whole months to discover that she was a virgin, by which time his need to possess her had become total and complete.
He felt the sudden beat of heat at his groin because that need had never really gone away, had it? Even in the midst of all their rows, he had still wanted her. He wanted her now.
Shifting a little uncomfortably in his chair, he raised his eyebrows. ‘Your journey here was okay?’ he questioned.
‘As okay as any journey can be when you don’t particularly want to take it. And your female driver is superb.’
‘Isn’t she?’ The hint of a smile touched the edges of his mouth. ‘What about the goldfish you were so concerned about—how are they?’
She eyed him suspiciously. ‘They’re all right. They’ve moved in with one of my neighbours.’
‘And should I know their names? Just in case their welfare becomes a matter of overriding concern?’
‘Are you being sarcastic?’
‘Not at all.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘There is so much of your life that is now a mystery to me, Lex. I think it wise to learn as much as possible about my wife before I take her home to Greece. Their names?’
‘Bubble,’ she said. ‘And Squeak.’
He frowned. ‘That’s a meal you eat in England?’
Lexi nodded. A meal that he would certainly never have tasted, that was for sure. Frankly, she was amazed that he was interested. In the past, he would never have bothered to ask for such an inconsequential detail, and even if he had she probably would have skated over it. She’d known that her background appalled him and so she’d always played it down—even if doing so made her feel slightly guilty, as if she’d been ashamed of where she’d come from. As if she’d been denying who she really was.
But there was no point in doing that now. In fact, it might even work in her favour. Wouldn’t it make this ordeal easier if she reminded him of the fundamental differences between them? It would certainly make it easier for her if he didn’t look at her like that—with an expression of desire in his eyes which was making her feel curiously vulnerable.
Forcing herself to concentrate, she nodded. ‘That’s right. Bubble and Squeak is a traditionally English peasant food,’ she said. ‘It’s made of leftover vegetables—usually cabbage and potatoes—fried up together the next day.’
‘I fail to see the connection to goldfish.’
‘They’re cute names. That’s why.’ It wasn’t the whole story, of course, but she ran her thumb over her handbag before meeting his gaze with a defiant look. ‘Look, I haven’t come here to talk about my domestic arrangements, or my pets. I’ve fulfilled my part of the bargain by agreeing to this ridiculous charade of being your “wife”, so how about you return the favour? Can I please see my brother before he leaves?’
He leaned back in his chair. ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible.’
‘Why not? Are you keeping him prisoner?’
‘If only life were that simple, Lex.’ He ran his thumb reflectively along the edge of his bottom lip. ‘Jason is already in mainland Greece, working at one of the Kanellis vineyards. I was afraid that seeing you might make him decide to opt for an easier, softer option. It might have encouraged him to tap you for another loan and we couldn’t have that.’
‘I told you that I’m no longer in a position to hand out loans,’ she said.
His eyes were curious now. ‘But don’t you miss the money?’ he asked. ‘I don’t mean the funds which were available to you as my wife, but before that. You were a very wealthy woman when we met.’
Lexi met the hard gleam of his eyes. She thought it was a funny question for him to ask now, when at the time he had resented her financial independence. He was one of those men who liked to dominate his woman in every way and that included financial. He’d told her that he preferred to buy her things, rather than having her buy them for herself. He’d said that was the man’s role: to protect and provide for his woman. It had been hard for someone like her to accept because she’d never relied on anyone but herself.
‘To be honest I don’t miss it at all,’ she said slowly. ‘I felt more like me once the bulk of the money was gone.’
‘I’m afraid you’ve lost me now.’
She met the cool question in his eyes. Why not tell him? It wasn’t as if it mattered any more. She was no longer that anxious woman who had been terrified he’d stop loving her if he saw through to the dark insecurity which gnawed away deep inside her.
‘Frugality is my default mechanism,’ she explained. ‘That’s what I grew up with. What I was used to. When you’re dirt poor it’s tough, but it has its benefits. It makes you hungry—and hunger was what drove my ambition. It’s what made me enter that TV reality show at the age of sixteen, even though everybody said I didn’t have a chance of winning. But I did win. I confounded all expectations and got myself a recording contract.’
He opened his mouth to reply but at that moment his assistant tapped on the door and entered the room, depositing a tray of tea on his desk. ‘Thank you, Kimberly,’ he said.
Kimberly smiled and Lexi watched as she walked back out of the office with the slightly self-conscious confidence of an attractive woman who was wearing a too-tight dress.
‘Has all your money gone?’ he continued.
‘Not all of it, no.’ Without being asked or offered, Lexi leaned forward and poured herself some tea and this small element of control helped refocus her thoughts. Adding milk and stirring two heaped teaspoons of sugar into her cup, she shook her head. ‘I have my own house—paid off in full—and enough investments to ensure I never starve. And I’m hoping to grow my jewellery design business so that it becomes a viable source of income.’
Xenon watched as she sat there drinking her tea, with the summer sunshine illuminating her hair so that it tumbled down around her shoulders like a pale waterfall. He thought she looked fragile and intensely feminine, yet the spectacles she wore gave her a serious and slightly geeky appearance. This was a new Lexi and he didn’t know how to handle her. He gave a bitter smile as he thought about the ashes of his marriage. Maybe he had never known.
He got up from his chair. ‘Come on. Let’s go,’ he said.
She finished her tea and put her cup down. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Home, of course.’ An odd kind of smile lifted his mouth. ‘We’re going home.’
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_e09205a8-964c-56d6-bb33-873f3db7ee33)
IT WAS DISORIENTATING being back in the house where Xenon had once carried her giggling over the threshold. Lexi stood in the high-ceilinged hallway of the beautiful nineteenth century building and felt little beads of sweat pricking at her forehead. She knew Xenon was watching her, just as he’d been watching her during the drive from his office to his home in the classical terrace overlooking Regent’s Park. She wondered if he had a clue how weird she found it being here again, after all this time. Did he realise that, behind the smile she’d managed to produce from nowhere, her heart was thudding with pain?
Glancing around the hall, she tried to concentrate on the practical—telling herself that it was only bricks and mortar. But it seemed so much more than that. The air was scented with cinnamon and the walls were hung with beautiful paintings, many of them depicting Greece. There was one with the famous view of the St Nicolas Bay, which could be seen from the terrace of the Kanellis estate in Rhodes. She’d always loved that one.
Silken rugs from the East were strewn over the polished floors and the overriding impression was one of solid wealth and stability. But the décor was as masculine as she remembered and little seemed to have changed since last she’d been there.
Lexi gave a wry smile. This had been their home but it had never really felt like her home. Her sometimes brash and streetwise persona had deserted her when it came to soft furnishings and the truth was that she’d been intimidated by what to put in the Grade I listed building. She’d been terrified that her lack of historical knowledge would cause her to make some basic error of taste, which would have everyone laughing at her. That was why she’d never dared put her mark on the house. Why she hadn’t bought so much as a single vase when she’d lived here.
‘It looks exactly the same,’ she observed as she brought her gaze back to rest on his face. ‘You haven’t done much to it.’
‘No.’ His expression suddenly became closed.
‘Why not?’
‘Well, masterminding the Kanellis empire takes up most of my time. You know how it is, Lex.’
‘Of course. How could I ever forget something as fundamental as that?’ She kept her words as flippant as his. ‘My mother was an alcoholic and I married a workaholic. Must be something in me that brings out the obsessive in a person.’
He stiffened, as if her words had shocked him—and maybe they had. ‘Why are you saying something like that?’
‘Because it’s the truth and neither of us have to pretend any more. We both know I was the world’s most unsuitable wife for you. I’m just reminding us of one of the reasons why.’
He saw the sudden sharp anxiety on her face and something inside him wanted to wipe it away. ‘Stop winding yourself up for no reason,’ he said gently. ‘Try taking a deep breath and calm down.’
‘You think that being back here is contributing to my levels of serenity?’
‘I don’t think anything could do that when you’re so uptight. Come on, let’s go and sit down and you can relax.’
Having little choice but to obey, she followed him into the garden room at the back of the house, the one which had always been her favourite. She wondered if he’d done that on purpose—to remind her of all the things she’d lost?
Two green velvet sofas overlooked a garden filled with white flowers. White roses scrambled up a far stone wall and tall white daisies stood behind neat hedges of white lavender. She walked over to the French windows and unlocked them, and a mixture of scents and the sound of birdsong filtered into the room.
It felt unbearably poignant. She used to sit here during her second pregnancy, making plans and knitting minuscule little bootees—even though nobody else she knew ever knitted. While Xenon was away on business she would dream about what it would be like when their baby was born. When, magically, he would let go of his heavy workload and the three of them would go walking in the nearby park, just like a proper family.
She turned back to find Xenon’s gaze fixed on her and for a split second she thought she saw a flash of understanding in his eyes. But that was nothing but an illusion. She knew that.
Xenon didn’t understand how she’d felt—understanding women wasn’t something he had been brought up to do. He had fixed and old-fashioned views about the opposite sex and the way they should be treated. He wasn’t intentionally cruel, just thoughtless. Women existed to look pretty and have sex with and produce strapping sons and pretty daughters. But she couldn’t even do that bit right, could she?
She realised how quiet the house was; none of the usual staff had appeared offering drinks. There was no smiling Phyllida—his long-serving housekeeper—eager to do her master’s bidding. No discreet sounds of food being prepared in the large basement kitchen. They seemed to be completely alone.
‘So where is everybody?’ she asked. ‘Is Phyllida still with you?’
‘Indeed she is. Her daughter has married an Englishman, so she has no intention of moving, but I sent her and the rest of the staff over to Rhodes to help prepare for the christening. I thought you might prefer to acclimatise yourself before having to face everyone again.’
‘Is that what you call it?’ she questioned.
‘It might help if you tried to relax a little, instead of looking like a moth dazzled by bright lights. Pretend they’re spotlights instead. You’re used to those.’
‘Not any more, I’m not!’ she retorted.
Slowly, she walked around the room, running her fingers across pieces of furniture as if she were reacquainting herself with them, but in reality moving away from the infinitely more disturbing spotlight of his gaze.
She felt like someone visiting one of those museums where rooms were created to represent different eras. She felt as if she’d stepped back into the past. There was that exquisite bowl from China and a carved piece of African wood, which she remembered from her days as mistress of the house, but the silver gleam of a photo-frame was a new addition and contained a photo of a baby. A tiny baby with jet-black hair and a snub button for a nose.
‘That’s Ianthe,’ Xenon was saying. ‘My niece.’
Sadness welled up inside her and there didn’t seem to be a thing she could do to stop it. She wondered if he had somehow forgotten, or whether he just never stopped to think that their own little boy would be two now. That if things had been different, he might have been running around in that garden—swiping at the tall daisies with a chubby little fist. If he had lived.
But no—Xenon didn’t seem to have made that fundamental connection. It didn’t seem to have occurred to him that a new Kanellis baby might make her yearn for the babies who would only ever be memories. He had never talked about it at the time. He had closed himself off from her and she had felt as if an invisible wall had slid down between them. Why would he want to talk about it now, when to him it was simply something from the past? A disappointment, yes, but something he would have moved on from with that restless shark-like nature of his.
‘She’s beautiful,’ said Lexi brightly.
‘Yes. She is very beautiful.’
But Xenon couldn’t help noticing the distracted way she was pushing her fingers through her hair. And some age-old instinct made him want to take her in his arms and stroke away some of the brittleness which was making her hold herself like an unexploded grenade.
He hadn’t touched her since she had lost the second baby. She hadn’t wanted him to and, if the truth were known, it had seemed somehow obscene to touch her intimately after what had happened. He had found it easier to give her the space he’d thought she’d needed and she had seemed to want that, too. Until he’d realised that they’d each been locked in their own, private sadness. That it had made a wedge between them which could not be filled. She had left him soon afterwards and for a long time his anger at her desertion had eclipsed all other feelings. But later they had returned, and when they had...
His determination to get her here had been fuelled by those feelings and for once in his life he hadn’t really thought beyond that. He hadn’t thought past that first moment of triumph of having her exactly where he wanted her.
But now?
Now he realised that it was more complicated than he had anticipated. He still wanted her, yes—he just hadn’t realised quite how much. And deep down, he wondered if it was too late. She was staring at him with a mixture of defiance and wariness, like a small trapped animal—and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle her.
‘You might want to go and freshen up,’ he suggested. ‘And decide where you’d like to sleep.’
Their eyes met and Lexi felt the sudden tension between them as he dropped the word into the conversation like a rock into a pool. She forced a smile. The kind she used to use if she was being interviewed and wanted to keep the journalist at a distance. A smile which said don’t you dare come too close.
‘And where are you sleeping these days?’ she questioned in a voice so careless she almost convinced herself it was genuine. ‘Still in the guest bedroom, or have you moved back into the marital bed?’
Xenon’s mouth hardened, her remark making him feel as uncomfortable as no doubt she had intended it should. Would she be surprised to learn that he had never slept in their old bed again? That it had been too full of memories of her. That the fragrance from her skin had still lingered there; the memory of her body beside him too vivid to be tolerated.
He gave the ghost of a smile. ‘I’m in the blue room these days. Or should I say, nights.’
‘Then I’ll have the rose room,’ she said, choosing one at the other end of the upstairs corridor. ‘That’ll be perfect.’
But Lexi was lying, because sleeping at the opposite end of the house wasn’t perfect at all. Not when he was standing there full of vibrant life—reminding her of all his dark and golden promise.
He was the only man she had ever loved. The only man she had ever wanted—and that feeling had never gone away. She could feel her sadness being stretched and weakened by a powerful moment of desire. She could feel the soft cloak of intimacy settling around them and she tried to push it away.
‘The rose room is all yours. All ready and waiting,’ he said sardonically. ‘If that’s what you want.’
‘Of course it’s what I want.’ Deliberately, she widened her eyes. ‘Unless you were labouring under the misapprehension that I was going to fall straight into bed with you?’
‘I think I know you well enough to know that instant sex was never going to be a certainty, Lex. Even though right now it’s the thing which is uppermost in our minds.’
His frankness shocked her but it also excited her. And that was dangerous. ‘It might be on your mind—’
‘Come on, Lex,’ he said softly. ‘You’re surely not going to deny that you want me, that you aren’t standing there wondering what it would be like to kiss me again?’
‘I’m not.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Believe what you want. It’s no—’
He silenced her by placing a finger over her lips and Lexi felt an instant, trembling response. Her eyes met his with a powerful feeling of recognition and she knew she should have protested. But she didn’t. She didn’t do a damned thing. Not even when he moved his finger to trace it slowly along the outline of her still-trembling lips.
It had been so long since he had touched her. She’d turned her life around and made the best of what she had but sometimes it just wasn’t enough. Outwardly she might look as if she was getting on and being successful, but wasn’t the truth that sometimes she felt cold and empty and only half alive?
She could feel the stir of her breath against his finger and he must have felt it, too, because she saw his eyes grow smoky. Another danger sign—because she knew how quickly he could become aroused. She knew how effortlessly he could carry her along on that urgent flare of heat. And then what? her conscience screamed. Then what?
She wanted to pull away, but she couldn’t. He might as well have turned her into a marble statue. But marble didn’t ache, did it? And marble didn’t feel this hot flood of desire, which was pulsing inexorably through her body. Lexi closed her eyes, biting back the gasp of longing which was threatening to spring from her lips. What did it say about her, that the tip of his finger edging almost innocently against her mouth could make her want to melt?
‘Stop that,’ she said indistinctly.
He splayed his hands around the span of her waist in a movement of unthinking possession. His head dipped forward so that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘I do.’
‘Then say it like you do.’
‘I don’t have to say anything.’
‘In that case I might be tempted to take your silence as compliance. Although on second thoughts, I might just admit to being tempted and leave it at that.’
She opened her eyes to see that he was lowering his head towards her and all she could read was the sexual hunger written on his face. There was all the time in the world to stop him but she didn’t. Of course she didn’t. Even when she said his name, it came out more like a plea than a protest. ‘Xenon...I... Oh.’
Their lips met in a kiss which was hard and hot and hungry. A kiss which shot right off the scale. She could hear the slam of her heart as he pulled her roughly against him. She could taste the warm mingling of their breaths and suddenly a sob was torn from her throat as she flung her arms around his neck and clung to him, railing against him even while he continued to kiss her.
Her words were muffled against his mouth. ‘You bastard. You complete and utter bastard.’
‘Call me all the names you like if it makes you feel better,’ he groaned. ‘But don’t deny you want me.’
‘No. I. Don’t.’
‘Yes. You. Do.’
His hand was cupping her breast and she was letting him do that, too. She could feel her nipple peaking against his palm and the rush of blood which engorged it so that it felt weighted and full. But this was wrong. She knew it was wrong.
‘Xenon.’ So why was his name coming out as a sultry moan as she curled her fingernails around his neck?
‘Don’t fight it, Lex. Just remind yourself how much you’ve missed this.’
‘But we’re getting a divorce.’
His answer was to pick her up and carry her over to one of the velvet sofas before lowering her down onto it. The soft pile contrasted with the hardness of the body which was pressing down on top of her and she was unable to hold back her excitement as he removed her glasses and put them carefully on the floor.
He turned back to give her his full attention, pushing her hair back from her face so that he could look at her properly, his blue eyes a blur as they burned into her. She felt exposed. Naked. A warm helplessness flooded through her as he bent his dark head to kiss her again but this time the kiss was charged with purpose.
She let her hands splay over the hard musculature of his back. She revelled in the weight of him; the scent and the taste of him. She felt the jut of his hipbones and the heavy weight of his erection as it pushed against her thighs.
It had been a long time since he had made love to her and, oh, she could tell. Her body felt as if it were on fire and her senses seemed to be sizzling into life in a way she’d forgotten could feel so good. She could feel his hand rucking up her dress and the coolness of the air as it hit her bare knees. An insistent heat began to coil through her as he parted her thighs and the pooling of heat at her feminine core was making her squirm. She wanted him to take off her panties. She wanted him deep inside her. Whispering her hands over his silk-covered torso, she heard him suck in a ragged breath. Dragging her nails over his diamond-hard nipples, she began to circle them over the straining material of his shirt and she could feel his helplessness, too.
‘Lex,’ he groaned.
She thrilled at the husky way he said her name. She lifted her hand up to his head, cradling it against her palm so that she could crush his lips even closer. She could feel the silent, slow entry of his tongue and now it was her turn to groan. She felt all her strength melting away as she reached up to grip his powerful shoulders, encountering the structured lines of his jacket as she did so. And suddenly her eyes fluttered open and she pictured what they must look like. She saw herself as if she’d just floated up to the ceiling and were looking down on the scene below. A man still in his work suit, grappling with his estranged wife on the sofa as if she were a cheap date. Starting to have sex with her right there and then, without any preamble or attempt at wooing.
And she was just lying back and letting him.
She pushed him away and this time he must have sensed that she was engaged in more than provocative play-fight, because he didn’t object. His breathing was laboured and his smoky eyes were narrowed as he stared at her.
‘What’s the matter?’
Lexi struggled to sit up, fury heating her blood as she grabbed her glasses and put them on. She wondered, if she hadn’t stopped him, whether he would have simply unzipped himself and impaled her right there on the sofa.
‘You really need to ask that?’ she breathed.
‘I’m not in the mood for riddles,’ he said, frustration making him snap the words out.
‘It’s not a riddle and you’re not stupid. Think about it, Xenon. You bring me into your house, knowing that this is an already complicated situation which might require a little consideration on your part. But consideration has never been part of your vocabulary, has it? Even after I expressly told you that this wasn’t going to be anything other than a masquerade marriage—you leap on me with all the finesse of a sixteen-year-old boy.’
He watched as she got up from the sofa and began to smooth her dress down, his gaze following her as she went to stand in front of the French windows. The light from the garden highlighted the outline of her long, shapely legs and the strands of hair which had worked themselves free from her plaited hair. He felt the painful twist of lust deep inside him as he glared at her. ‘Maybe that’s because you make me feel like a sixteen-year-old boy again—with all the corresponding doubts and insecurities.’
‘Doubts and insecurities?’ She gave a short laugh. ‘I don’t think so. You were born knowing how to handle a woman.’
‘Except perhaps for you,’ he said. ‘You were my one failure in a long and glittering career.’
Exasperated, she shook her head. ‘You see? Even when you’re making what might almost pass for an apology, you’re turning it into some kind of macho boast!’
‘I am what I am, Lex.’ He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I am Greek and to be macho is woven into my DNA. I thought that’s what you liked. Don’t you remember telling me that my mastery turned you on?’
Lexi bit her lip. Yes, she’d said that, and more. Much more. Things which now made her wince. But at the time she had meant them. After years of having to cope and be strong for other people, she had fallen for a man who was just as strong. Someone who was looking out for her for a change. For once it had been blissful to let someone else take charge. To let someone else make all the decisions. She just hadn’t realised that she needed to keep her own strength and that it was wrong to rely on Xenon’s. That once you gave someone else permission to take control of your life, you ended up weak and helpless. So that she seemed to have no reserves left to cope with the misfortune which had befallen them.
‘I was younger then,’ she said. ‘And naïve.’
‘And now?’
She reminded herself that she was a grown-up and not some simpering girl. She was a woman who had found her own way in the world. Just because an incompatible marriage had thrown her temporarily off course, that didn’t mean she needed to hurl herself straight back into it. And hadn’t she made a deal with him? Wasn’t she doing this for Jason? For the baby brother who’d had such an unspeakable childhood?
She fiddled with her plait, and shrugged. ‘Now I’m just doing the best I can.’
Xenon felt a sudden wave of remorse wash over him because in that moment she seemed as fragile as he’d ever seen her. ‘You look tired,’ he said.
‘I am.’ The sudden compassion in his voice disarmed her. She saw the anxiety in his face and some stupid moment of weakness made her want to reach out to him. ‘There’s no need to look so stricken, Xenon. I was just as complicit as you in what just happened. And I’m not denying that I enjoyed it—I don’t think I’d get away with a lie that big.’
His blue eyes burned with intensity. ‘So share my bed tonight.’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t. You know I can’t. It would cause too many problems and open up too many wounds. And we can’t risk that kind of pain again, for both our sakes.’
His narrowed gaze was thoughtful. ‘Then you’d better go upstairs and get some rest,’ he said. ‘And I’ll see you later at dinner.’
She straightened her dress and looked up. ‘We’re having dinner?’
‘Of course we are. We have to eat. Now go,’ he repeated roughly, forcing himself to turn away from her. Because her body was sending out a siren song so loud that it was almost deafening him. And he couldn’t trust himself not to pull her back in his arms and finish off what they had started.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_2cdab716-4252-5437-b97d-af965be8b036)
‘LEX.’
‘Mmm?’
‘Wake up.’
Lexi stirred and stretched. She didn’t want to wake up. She had been in the middle of a dream—the kind you never wanted to end. A beachy type of dream with warm sand and the sound of the waves swishing against the shore. And there had been a man beside her. A man holding her tightly and kissing her and melting away all the cold sadness which was locked away inside her.
Her eyes fluttered open to find Xenon bending over her, and as his silhouette imprinted itself fuzzily in her line of vision she felt a sinking feeling of resignation. Because he was the man. Of course he was. Even her dreams were dominated by him.
Still a little groggy, she sat up and groped for her glasses and the room shifted into sharp focus as she put them on. She was in the rose room—a sumptuous suite of soft petal shades, with tall windows which overlooked the park. She had never actually slept here before, but it was still filled with memories she’d rather forget. Because she’d made love with her husband on this canopied bed. He’d straddled her over there, on that velvet chair. They’d done it on the carpet, too. In fact, they’d made love in pretty much every room in the house.
And they’d very nearly done it again.
She remembered that brief, erotic encounter on the sofa earlier and she felt the pounding of her heart; the heated rush of blood to her face as she recalled the intimate touch of his hands on her after so long without it. She shouldn’t have let it get that far and she shouldn’t have shown him how much she still wanted him. But how could she fail to want him when he was so damned gorgeous? When, even now, all she could think about was all the pleasure he had given her in the past and the way she used to choke out his name with disbelieving joy. She needed to remember the pain instead. To protect herself with the memory of how much he had hurt her.
She pushed her mussed hair back from her face and sat up, trying not to focus on the powerful thrust of his thighs, which were distractingly close. ‘What time is it?’
‘Seven o’clock. You’ve been asleep for a while.’ He studied her rumpled appearance. ‘Do you want to get changed for dinner?’
Of course she did, even though the fact that he had been the one to suggest it made her want to rebel. He’d grown up in the kind of world where even families changed for dinner and ate formally. The first time she’d met his mother she’d mistakenly thought that, because they were all on a relaxed Greek island, it might be okay for her to wear a denim skirt and a T-shirt to dinner. Big mistake. Her mother-in-law had been decked in silk and pearls, her disapproval freezing the warm Greek air as she had studied the laid-back appearance of her new daughter-in-law.
Lexi glared at him, realising that she was going to be subjected to that level of disapproval all over again. His mother had been frosty enough towards her when they’d been newly-weds. What was her attitude likely to be towards a wife who had left her precious son? ‘I’d like to know what the plan is,’ she said. ‘When are we going to Rhodes?’
‘Eager to get there, are you, Lex?’ His blue eyes mocked her.
‘Not really. But the sooner it’s done, then the sooner I can erase this whole ghastly incident from my mind.’ She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, wondering if her words carried the lack of conviction she felt inside. Walking over to the dressing table, she picked up a hairbrush. ‘I can’t believe I’m back in this damned house,’ she muttered as she stared at her pinched reflection in the mirror.
‘Can’t you?’ Xenon watched as she began to pull a brush through the tumble of her hair and suddenly he realised he had missed this indefinable intimacy of married life. Watching his wife get dressed—an experience almost as erotic as seeing the whole process later completed in reverse.
He’d missed the shared look which could convey the meaning of an entire sentence in a single glance. He had missed that easy shorthand more than he’d ever imagined. Perhaps that was why his next words came out in a rush, for he had not planned to say them. ‘I thought you might consider giving our marriage another go. Didn’t you ever think you might do that, Lex?’
Lexi’s hand stilled, mid-stroke. It was an unusually candid question and one she was tempted to brush off with a glib response. But something in the brilliance of his reflected blue gaze melted away her intention. She realised that she mustn’t allow pride to skew her judgement. Just because their marriage hadn’t worked out, didn’t mean that she had to devalue it completely, did it? Because once she had loved him. She had loved him so much that she’d walked around with the biggest, stupidest smile on her face. She had felt dizzy with it, as if she’d been struck down by a mystery malady for which there was no known cure.
But it was hard to see things in a balanced way once you started looking at them from a distance. She’d got out of the habit of remembering the good times and that had been intentional. You could never move on if you allowed yourself to wallow in something which you were never going to have again.
‘No, I didn’t think about that,’ she said. ‘Even though I did find life hard without you. For quite a long time, actually. You’re a big enough personality for the world to feel quite empty without you—and it did. But our marriage wasn’t working, Xenon. You know it wasn’t.’
He stared at her and his next words seemed to come from some dark and unknown place deep inside him. ‘Because of the baby.’ There. He’d said it. He’d confronted something which had been too unbearable to confront at the time. Two long years had passed since it had happened and he had thought that time would have blunted the impact—but he was unprepared for the wave of pain which hit him with the force of a tsunami.
Lexi saw him flinch and she felt distress clawing away inside her as the hairbrush slipped from her suddenly nerveless fingers and clattered onto the dressing table. That old and familiar feeling of powerlessness swept over her and became all tangled up with her grief. She still felt guilty for the pain she had caused him by her inability to carry a child to term.
Thanks to her chronic insecurity and Xenon’s demanding work schedule, communication between them had broken down. The first miscarriage had left an emptiness deep inside her and the second seemed to have brought everything to a head. She would never forget the bleakness etched on his face when he’d finally arrived at the hospital, once it was all over. The way he’d found it difficult to look her in the eye as he’d sat stiff and unmoving beside her bed.
But why hurt him more than he was already hurting by reminding him of that bitter time? It wouldn’t change anything, would it?
Interlocking her fingers, she stared down at them and thought about all the games of cat’s cradle she would never play with her child. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Why not?’ He realised that his voice was shaking. ‘Lex, look at me. Please.’
She lifted her head and it was almost unbearable to have to meet that bleak gaze of his. Why was he doing this now? Now when it was much too late. It was like picking at a scar and making the cut so deep that it would never heal. And how could she possibly heal if she started to fool herself that he wanted to understand? Because she knew better than anyone that Xenon didn’t do understanding.
‘Because it’s too late,’ she said, her fingers gripping at the shiny surface of the dressing table, as if she needed that small piece of leverage to prevent herself from sliding to the floor.
Stubbornly he shook his head as he stared at her, with a sense of determination he rarely felt outside the boardroom. After two years of having this fester away inside him like something dark and unmentionable, didn’t it come as something of a relief to finally expunge it? ‘Don’t you think it’s time we said all this? Stuff we couldn’t bear to say at the time? Because you couldn’t bear me to touch you after the second miscarriage, could you, Lex? You couldn’t bear to let me near you.’
She got up from the dressing table and walked over to the window, wanting to put distance between them. Wanting to stop the pain which was twisting remorselessly inside her. She stared out as the first shadows of the evening began to deepen the summer night and they seemed to echo the darkness in her heart. ‘Because I saw that look in your eyes!’
‘What look?’
‘What look? What look? You know damned well what look! The look that said I’d failed you—only this time I’d done it in spectacular style. I mean, I was already aware of the shortfall in my attempts to be the perfect wife, but this was one thing I really couldn’t afford to get wrong, wasn’t it?’ She sucked in a ragged breath. ‘And I did. You’d married me essentially to be your brood mare and you realised too late that you’d chosen a weak and flighty filly who was never going to meet your requirements.’
‘Will you stop putting words in my mouth?’
She shook her head, resting her forehead against the coolness of the glass as her breath made it grow misty. ‘Don’t tell me that you haven’t thought all these things, Xenon, because I won’t believe you. Maybe in a way I don’t blame you. I can even understand why you would think that.’
‘Can you?’ he questioned. ‘You’ve added mind-reading to your sizeable list of accomplishments, have you?’
‘Think about it,’ she said, ignoring his sarcasm. ‘You’ve devoted your entire adult life to growing the Kanellis corporation. And you need a son and heir to take over from you, as once you took over from your father and he from his father before him. You’ve always put having a family of your own at the top of your list of requirements.’ She took a deep breath. ‘We both know that.’
Her words were met with silence. She hadn’t really expected a denial, but the lack of one hurt her more than she had expected. For the first time in a long time, she wanted to cry. But she never cried in front of anyone, because tears got you nowhere and they made you look weak. They took you back to that scary place—the one which made you look into the future, and think about everything you were missing.
Outside the window the shadows in the park were lengthening. She saw a street-light flicker on, and then another. A young couple, arm in arm and laughing, walked past. It was as if the world were conspiring to remind her of everything she no longer had. It could be a cruel old world sometimes.
But she was doing this for Jason—that was the thought she needed to hang onto. She was giving her little brother a last chance to get his mixed-up life back on track. And if she and Xenon could manage to close the door on some of their issues, then wouldn’t that be an added bonus? They might never become one of those divorced couples who were amicable enough to have dinner together—but mightn’t they aim for some kind of civilised parting which didn’t resemble a dark night of the soul?
Just so long as she realised that it wasn’t going anywhere.
‘I think you need dinner,’ he said, his voice breaking into her thoughts.
She turned around to find him watching her closely. Too closely. ‘I don’t know that I’m very hungry.’
‘Oh, no.’ His voice was grim. ‘I’m not having you fainting on me when we fly to Rhodes tomorrow. You are going to eat, Lex—even if I have to find a spoon and feed you myself.’
She wanted to fight him but she knew he was right. Hunger made your thinking go haywire and that was the last thing she needed. She sighed. ‘Okay, I’ll eat. But I don’t want to go and sit in some fancy restaurant. I can’t face the thought of dressing up and having to sit with other people watching us. Or rather, watching you.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘I don’t tend to attract unwanted attention these days.’
He glanced at her hair with curious eyes. ‘Is that why you lost the red?’
‘Partly. And I could no longer face going to the hairdressers’ every six weeks to have my roots touched up.’
‘That often?’
She smiled. ‘Didn’t you realise? That kind of glossy hair doesn’t just happen by magic, no matter what the ads might promise.’
‘And the glasses? Do you wear them because they make you look so different and reduce your chances of being recognised?’
‘Actually, no. I wear them because they’re good for all the detailed work I do with my jewellery design.’ She found herself wondering whether he liked them or not, but Xenon’s opinion of her trendy spectacles didn’t count. She liked them and that was what mattered. She didn’t add that she felt safer behind them. That their slightly geeky look fitted her new image of herself. ‘And I was always losing my contact lenses.’
‘Tell me about it,’ he said. ‘I seemed to spend half my time on my hands and knees looking for the damned things.’ He gave a lazy smile. ‘But I rather enjoyed being on the floor with you for what you might call legitimate purposes.’
Their eyes met.
‘Xenon, don’t.’
‘Don’t what?’
‘Don’t keep dredging up memories.’ Especially not happy ones. ‘There’s no point.’
‘Okay.’ He lifted his hands in mock-surrender. ‘The past is off-limits. Just come downstairs when you’re ready and I’ll fix dinner.’
‘You?’ Lexi blinked. ‘Did I hear that correctly? Xenon Kanellis fixing dinner? Why, you wouldn’t know where to start unless it involved speed-dialling the nearest Michelin-starred restaurant.’
‘Want to bet?’
‘I think I’ll leave the betting to my brother.’ She pulled a face. ‘Or hopefully not. So what’s on the menu? A take-out from the local deli?’
‘Wait and see,’ he responded coolly and walked out.
Lexi didn’t move for a moment or two after the door had closed behind him. She wanted to go back over everything he’d said, and to replay it in her mind like a teenager with her first crush.
He’d thought she might want to give their marriage another go?
But—as she’d said—there was absolutely no point dredging up memories and so she went into the bathroom, determined to wash all thoughts of him away.
Afterwards she put on a pair of jeans and gave her reflection a satisfied nod. Xenon wasn’t a big fan of jeans because he thought it was a crime for a woman to cover up her legs. But if her legs were covered then he wouldn’t look at them in the way she was discovering she still liked. And just to really slam the message home, she pulled on a baggy black T-shirt, with a giant pink sequinned lollipop on the front.
He had laid the table in the garden and lit lots of little tea-lights and she found that as astonishing as anything else which had happened. Xenon managing to put a match to tea-lights? Whatever next? Xenon discovering that food came from shops, and that you actually had to go and buy it?
But she was somewhat relieved to discover that the familiar macho Xenon was never too far from the surface because when she walked into the garden, he looked up and scowled.
‘What’s that hideous thing you’re wearing?’
She affected innocence as she ran a reflective forefinger over the garish pink sequins. ‘This? It’s one of a batch from our last tour, which never got sold. Extra-extra-large. If you’re interested I can always have one couriered to you. I’ve got masses of them back at the cottage.’
He gave a flicker of a smile as he poured a glass of wine and handed it to her. ‘Tempting, but I’ll pass. Now, eat.’
She sat down and did as he suggested and was soon tucking into pasta with a simple sauce, studded with anchovies and olives. Afterwards there were iced grapes and squares of dark chocolate, accompanied by the thick, sweet coffee he loved so much. In the flickering light, she ate with an appetite which seemed sharpened, and as the stars began to prick the velvet sky she felt better.
By tacit agreement, they kept to neutral topics, with Xenon recounting some of the exploits of his twin cousins in New York, who Lexi had always liked. He told her that there had been talk of doing a sequel to My Crazy Greek Father but that he had ruled it out, because he couldn’t face going back to Hollywood for any sustained length of time. Lexi found herself wishing that the dinner could continue, like one of those meals you found in fairy tales, where the table was lavishly replenished each day. Because around that table it was easy to forget about the world which existed outside that garden.
But the world did exist and it came with complications. Big complications, in their case. She pushed away her empty coffee cup and looked at him.
‘What have you told your mother?’
He shrugged. ‘That you’re coming to the christening with me and are eager to see my grandmother again. Other than that, I haven’t elaborated.’
She folded her napkin and put it on the table. ‘And what did she say?’
For a moment Xenon was silent as he poured himself another cup of coffee. Unsurprisingly, his mother’s response to his news had been muted. She had never wanted him to marry this particular Englishwoman when there had been so many suitable Greek girls eager to take on that privileged role. He suspected she still lived in hope that it might one day still happen, for she did not share his grandmother’s sentimental views on divorce. But he had told her that Lexi’s visit was non-negotiable and had demanded that she show his estranged wife courtesy and consideration, a demand which had left his mother looking at him thoughtfully before she had agreed.
‘She accepted it,’ he said.
‘Just like that?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘My mother wouldn’t dream of objecting to the way I live my life. Not any more.’
‘Or maybe she just wouldn’t dream of saying it out loud.’
‘Most people have thoughts they wouldn’t want to say out loud, Lex. I’m having a few of my own at the moment.’
She stood up. ‘I think that’s my cue for bed.’
‘Wise decision.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘If a rather disappointing one as far as I’m concerned.’
Lexi looked at his ruggedly handsome face and thought how easy it would be if they’d only just met. If she could just give in to the demands of her body. Just walk right over there and let him take her in his arms and to hell with the consequences.
But she couldn’t. There was a reason why she still sometimes woke in the middle of the night with her heart pounding with fear and a sinking feeling of realisation twisting at her gut.
It was the same reason why she could never give their marriage another go.
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_9fb2d24d-a012-501f-bfd2-b24ae4e5e269)
THE FAINT DRONE of the aircraft engine was the only sound he could hear and several times Xenon found himself lifting his head from his pile of paperwork, to see if Lexi had fallen asleep. She hadn’t. She was sitting staring at an open magazine on her lap, though he noticed she hadn’t turned a single page.
She still looked pale, he thought. Against her flowery dress her skin seemed almost transparent, giving her a delicate appearance which made her seem almost breakable. But she wasn’t breakable, he reminded himself. Behind her delicate appearance, she was tough. The toughest woman he had ever known.
He looked down at the document but the words were just a blur of black and white. He leaned his head back against the seat. Last night they’d talked more frankly about the baby than they’d ever done before—but he had been left with no answers. Maybe there were no answers. Maybe he just had to learn to accept that it was what it was. A marriage against which the odds had been stacked from the beginning, followed by circumstances which had conspired to prove it was never going to work.
Yet that wasn’t helping him deal with the current situation, was it? It didn’t stop him wanting her so badly that it was all he could do not to reach out and touch her. She’d made it clear that sex wasn’t on her agenda but he wondered how long her resolve would last once they were back to sharing a bedroom.
The engine noise changed and he glanced out of the cabin window. ‘Look, we’re coming in to land,’ he said.
Lexi followed the direction of his gaze and saw the island of Rhodes dazzling like a bright jewel in the dark blue waters of the Aegean. She thought how long it had been since she’d been abroad and done anything as decadent as just lie in the sun. ‘When were you last here?’
‘I came over a couple of months ago for a few days. Work has been...demanding.’
‘So what else is new?’ she demanded wryly. ‘You haven’t stopped since we boarded the plane.’
His blue eyes gleamed. ‘There’s a reason for that. I’ve been trying to clear my diary so that I won’t need to work while we’re here.’
Lexi felt her lips part in surprise. ‘Good heavens,’ she said faintly. ‘Next thing you’ll be telling me that you’re planning to switch off your phone at night.’
‘If that’s a veiled offer to share my bed, then consider it done.’
‘It wasn’t.’
He smiled. ‘Didn’t think so.’
He picked up the documents and put them in his briefcase, vowing not to go near them for the duration of their stay. But it was hard to break the habit of a lifetime—a way of living and working which had become second nature to him.
He’d been barely eighteen when his father had dropped dead and Xenon’s discovery that the business was in a parlous state hadn’t helped the family come to terms with their shock and grief. Suddenly, the world as he had known it was one he no longer recognised.
But he had turned everything around. He had thrown himself in at the deep end and worked every hour to learn about the business, from the bottom up. He had sweated blood to earn the respect of the disillusioned Kanellis workforce. And while most people would have been content simply to get the giant organisation back on its feet, Xenon was not most people. He didn’t want to be known as a man who had saved something, he wanted to be known as a man who had made something. That was why he had bought the newspaper.
The film had been something different. The film had touched something deep inside him. It had connected with his essential Greekness. He had backed it because he had loved it; the money and awards he had earned as a result had not been what had driven him. And Lexi had understood. She had loved that film, too.
‘I’m trying to learn how to delegate,’ he said and saw her turn her head to look at him, that lip-parted look of surprise still on her face. ‘Loukas and Dimitri are keen to share some of the responsibility but it’s hard to let go when I’ve lived this way for so long.’
‘What are you so scared of.’
The smile which greeted this remark was sardonic. ‘You think that I am scared? That Xenon Kanellis is scared of anything?’
‘Well, if you’re not—then why not just go ahead and do it? Free up more time for yourself. Enjoy some of the fruits of your labours.’ Her voice softened. ‘Didn’t you once tell me that you weren’t going to work yourself into an early grave, like your father?’
He stared into her eyes, which looked as silvery-cool as mercury. What would she say if he told her that these days the hours he worked filled an emptiness which nothing else seemed to touch? That sometimes he held onto work with the determination of a man clutching at a lifeline?
But introspection had never been his thing. He had always preferred the practical to the theoretical. He caught hold of her hand and turned it over. ‘Where’s your wedding ring?’
‘At home, somewhere.’
‘Or maybe you threw it away in a bid to forget me—isn’t that what bitter ex-wives do?’
‘Actually, it’s in a box on top of my dressing table, along with all the other jewellery I no longer wear. And I’m not bitter, Xenon.’
‘You should have brought it with you.’ He traced an imaginary ring with the tip of his finger. ‘What if my grandmother notices you aren’t wearing it?’
‘She’ll have to draw her own conclusions.’
‘I disagree. We’ll have to see about finding you another one.’
His words were distracting and so was his touch and Lexi was glad to pull her hand away and scrabble around in her bag for her passport and wallet.
Fast-tracked through customs, Xenon was treated like a homecoming king and greeted fondly by airport workers he’d known since he was a boy. Lexi had forgotten how he could lay on the charm and get people eating out of his hand—especially here in his homeland. He possessed an ability to blend in no matter what the company and could happily drink with socialites and lorry-drivers alike. Hadn’t he once managed to avert a dockers’ strike by the simple expedient of walking into the shipyard and talking to the union chief over a cup of coffee?
Outside the terminal a car was waiting and Xenon said something in Greek to the driver as they pulled away. They’d been driving for about ten minutes when Lexi realised they were going the wrong way.
‘This isn’t the way to your home.’
‘I know it isn’t. We’re going into Rhodes Town first.’
She’d begun to feel nervous at the thought of seeing his family again and the thought of a delay was only adding to her anxiety levels. ‘What for?’
‘Have patience, Lex. Just sit back and enjoy the scenery, and let me take care of it.’
Lexi glowered. There he was, doing that dominant macho thing again—and she was just letting him get away with it. And yet it was frighteningly easy to sink back into the soft leather seat and drink in the beautiful views which were flashing past the window. Before long they had reached Rhodes Town and, since Xenon’s driver was experienced enough to skilfully negotiate the busy streets, the car was soon sliding to a halt outside a small jeweller’s shop.
Lexi saw the glint of precious metals and diamonds glittering in the window and she frowned. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Simple. You’re missing a wedding ring, so we’re buying you a new one.’
‘No,’ she said desperately. ‘We’re not.’
But the driver was already opening her door and, other than creating a very public scene, what choice did she have other than to step out onto the hot pavement? How could she put into words without sounding stupidly vulnerable that she didn’t want a pretend ring. She didn’t want anything that was going to make an even bigger mockery of her failed marriage.
But Xenon was really in control mode by then, busy speaking in Greek to the shop’s owner who swiftly produced a velvet tray of rings—some plain, some embellished and all of them extremely costly, judging by the price-tags.
Did the man notice her marked lack of enthusiasm and wonder why she wasn’t happy or triumphant to have such an eligible man fussing over her? Did he notice her flinch as Xenon masterminded the whole operation, his gaze flicking over the tray with the eye of the connoisseur as he made suggestions about what kind of ring she’d prefer. But she couldn’t really walk out of there empty-handed and so in the end she chose the simplest of them all—a discreet band in eighteen-carat gold.
‘Try not to lose this one, darling,’ murmured Xenon in English. Picking up the ring, he slid it slowly onto her finger, his blue eyes narrowing behind the lush curtain of his lashes as if he had felt the automatic tensing of her hand.
As Xenon’s payment card was being processed, the shop owner leaned forward to admire the clunky silver bangle which was dangling from Lexi’s wrist.
‘This is beautiful,’ he said.
‘My wife makes jewellery,’ put in Xenon helpfully.
Lexi shot him a furious look, thinking that he was getting carried away. He didn’t need to play the proud husband in front of someone they were never going to see again.
The shopkeeper nodded. ‘You sell anything here on Rhodes?’
‘No. Only in England,’ she said, with a smile.
‘You want to bring me some pieces to look at? I’m always on the lookout for original work. Tourists like to spend money when they are on holiday.’
She opened her mouth to explain that her visit here was temporary, but once again Xenon butted in.
‘We have rather a busy schedule at the moment, don’t we, darling?’
Lexi wanted to drum her fists against his chest and tell him that she was not his darling. She wanted to tear the fake wedding ring from her finger and hurl it down on the counter, but she respected Xenon’s position within the local community, even if he didn’t respect her feelings. She began to wonder how on earth she was going to maintain this crazy façade for more than a minute when he seemed determined to get under her skin at every opportunity.
The walls of the shop felt as if they were closing in on her and, deliberately, she looked at her watch. ‘We really ought to be going,’ she said.
They stepped outside into the sunlight and Lexi was just about to give him a piece of her mind when a flare of white, incandescent light almost blinded her. A man dressed in denim leapt out from the side of the building and began firing off a rapid series of photos, pushing a giant camera in her face.
For a moment they were both too startled to move before Xenon swore at him.
‘What the hell?’ he snarled, making a lunge for the camera.
But although he was fast, the photographer had the element of surprise on his side. He sprinted off and jumped onto the back of a waiting motorbike, which began to weave its way up the street before roaring off into the distance, lost to sight.
‘I’m going after him!’ Xenon snarled, but Lexi clamped a restraining hand on his bunched arm.
‘How? Not by foot, you won’t—and you’ll never catch him in this enormous car!’ But she was shaking. Shaking like a leaf. She hadn’t been ambushed like that in a long time and she had forgotten how exposed it could make you feel. She could see several tourists stopping now and, inevitably, some of them were getting their phones out. ‘Now look what’s happening,’ she moaned.
‘Get in the car,’ said Xenon, pushing her into the back seat before sliding in beside her.
Once they’d pulled away he took out his mobile phone, punched out a number and began speaking in a flurry of Greek for several furious minutes. The call finished, he turned to her. ‘Perhaps I should have anticipated that might happen. I’m sorry.’
‘Well, it’s a bit late to be sorry,’ she said crossly, trying not to melt beneath the genuine contrition in his blue eyes. ‘That was a gift of a photo. Why, I could even write the headlines for them: Greek Billionaire And Ex-Wife Ring The Changes.’
‘That’s very good, Lex. Did you ever think about a career in copywriting?’
‘Don’t you dare try and make a joke about it. Didn’t you stop to think that someone might have seen us going into a jewellery shop and rung the press?’
‘Oddly enough, the press aren’t my first priority. I don’t spend my damned life tiptoeing around them.’
‘Well, maybe you should. Now they’ll think there’s a story when there isn’t. A divorcing couple buying a brand-new wedding ring! Why don’t we find somewhere where I can buy a white dress and a bunch of flowers and we can maybe pose for some more photos?’
‘Stop worrying.’ His voice was soothing. ‘I’ve sorted it.’
‘How?’
‘Just leave it to me.’
To Lexi’s surprise, the journey passed quickly and suddenly the magnificent Kanellis estate was coming into view—a glorious citadel overlooking the medieval town of Lindos. But despite the beauty which surrounded her, Lexi felt her body tense as the car drove through the electronic gates before coming to a halt in the main courtyard.
Because she still had to face Marina, didn’t she? And hadn’t that always been a stumbling block?
Xenon’s mother hadn’t been her biggest fan. She clearly disapproved of a flashy English pop-star with a troubled background. It didn’t matter what Lexi did—or what she tried to do—she was never able to do it right. Toning down her image and trying to blend into an aristocratic Greek background was never going to work. She’d never broken through that initial barrier of hostility and it seemed that her mother-in-law could never get past the fact that she thought her beloved son had married beneath him.
But that was no longer relevant, Lexi told herself. I’m doing this for Jason. And I am no longer that woman who is so easily intimidated.
‘Here we are,’ said Xenon. He caught her gaze and held it. ‘Ready?’
She drew in a breath. ‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’
The driver opened the door for her and she stepped out into the sunny central courtyard where she was immediately enveloped in warm, fragrant air.
Looking down she could see the crystal waters of St Nicolas Bay and the hills which framed it like a picture. She could smell pine and lemons and hear the magnified hum of the cicadas. It was so typically and beautifully Greek that for a moment Lexi just stood there, drinking in the moment.
The land had been owned by the family for centuries and the tiered estate was vast and sprawling. All three of its bougainvillea-covered properties were entirely separate—each with their own private gardens. Pots of tumbling flowers provided splashes of colour—and the infinity pool seemed to connect with the sea and sky in layers of different, dazzling blues. Lexi had often wondered what it must have been like to have grown up in a place as beautiful as this. A place which was as different from the scruffy social housing where she’d spent her formative years as night was to day.
Suddenly she saw a familiar figure emerging from the main house, the sun illuminating the new threads of grey which were streaking her dark hair.
Her workaday dress was covered with an apron and Lexi’s heart clenched in her chest as the woman grew closer. ‘Phyllida!’ she croaked—and then all the breath was knocked out of her lungs as she was caught in a fierce embrace by Xenon’s London housekeeper.
For a few moments the women hugged but didn’t speak and Lexi was glad because the lump in her throat would have made speech impossible. Because it had been Phyllida who had been with her in London the night Lexi had started to bleed. Phyllida who had rung for the doctor and accompanied Lexi to hospital when the pain had got so bad and nobody could get hold of Xenon.
Lexi felt the memories come flooding back. There had been no one else she had trusted enough to ask at the time. Her first miscarriage had been so early—at eight weeks it had been more like a very heavy though heartbreaking period. But the second time had been different.
All her hopes and dreams had been focused on the life growing inside her and when that first low cramping pain had caught her by surprise, she had been so scared. She hadn’t been able to believe it was happening all over again—especially because she’d passed the ‘danger’ period of twelve weeks. But it had been happening and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop it. It had been the Greek housekeeper who had kept a silent vigil throughout the day and into the next day, until at long last Xenon had arrived back from his trip to the Far East. He had walked into her private room at the hospital and Lexi had seen the empty look in his eyes when she told him that the baby had died. And she had known that nothing was ever going to be the same again.
She drew back from the housekeeper’s embrace and took a moment to compose herself. ‘Oh, Phyllida,’ she said. ‘I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again.’
‘Kyrios Alexi.’ Clearly emotional herself, Phyllida touched Lexi’s hair. ‘You have changed.’
‘No longer the crazy redhead? I know. While you look exactly the same. You look fantastic.’
‘No. I am too fat.’ Phyllida laughed as she patted her ample stomach. ‘Not like you.’
Xenon glanced across at the main house. ‘Is my mother around?’ he asked.
‘She went to visit your sister. She said that you should settle in and she will see you at dinner.’
Xenon’s voice dropped. ‘And my grandmother?’
Phyllida shook her head, her face growing grave. ‘She is weak, but she is comfortable,’ she said. ‘The nurse is with her now and she is looking forward to seeing her grandson again. Now. Shall I make fresh lemonade for you and Kyrios Alexi after your long journey?’
‘Efharisto,’ said Xenon, his hand moving to brush the base of Lexi’s spine. ‘Come on, Lex. Let’s go and unpack.’
It was the briefest of touches but it started a whisper of reaction flaring over her skin and Lexi could feel her heart pounding as she followed him towards the furthest of the three villas, with its prime position overlooking the bay.
Their cases had been deposited inside the house and left on the ghostly surface of the marble floor—standing side by side as if in silent mockery. The white walls and dark wooden furniture were just as she remembered and Phyllida must have put that vase of white roses on one of the low tables.
The door of the villa closed behind them and Lexi was left with a feeling of panic. She thought of the bedroom next door and unwanted memories came crowding back. The smell of sex and the rumpled sheets. The closeness of Xenon’s hard body.
She licked her tongue over impossibly dry lips before she spoke.
‘Xenon, this is crazy. There’s no way we can stay here.’
‘Why not?’
‘You know very well why not. You’re not a stupid man, although at times you can be a very stubborn one.’ She steeled herself against the soft light of battle on his face. Don’t make me spell it out, her eyes pleaded silently. But his blue gaze remained obdurate and she glared at him. ‘There’s only one bed,’ she said.
‘And? Isn’t the whole point that we’re here as a married couple—and married couples share beds? What did you think would happen, Lex? That I would stay in the main house, knowing that you were closeted in here all on your own?’
‘You could do what any other man would do under the circumstances—and offer to sleep on the sofa!’
He shot a disparaging look at the piece of furniture she was indicating. ‘On that? Come on—that was never designed to be slept on. A Greek husband sleeps in the marital bed.’ His blue eyes gleamed with a mixture of mockery and promise. ‘With his wife.’
Lexi hated the way her body responded to the unashamedly sexual look which accompanied his macho boast. It was easy to tell herself she shouldn’t want him but much harder to ignore the way he was making her feel. When his gaze raked over her like that, she could feel the answering clamour of her body. The ache of her breasts and the insistent heat coiling low inside her. Because she still desired him as intensely as she had ever done—and she didn’t have a clue how to deal with it.
‘Why did you bring me here, Xenon?’ she demanded. ‘I mean, really? You say it was to bring comfort to your grandmother—’
‘That desire was genuine,’ he interrupted coolly.
‘And what else? Did you picture this scene when you made your suggestion? The inevitable showdown which would result when I found out that I’d be expected to share a bed with you?’
For a moment he didn’t answer and when he did, his words were accompanied by an odd kind of smile. ‘Yes, I pictured it,’ he answered slowly. ‘Though not at first.’
She stared at him, her heart beating very fast. ‘Tell me.’
He lifted his shoulders in a careless kind of shrug and once again she could see the bunching of muscle beneath his shirt. ‘I admit that when I came to your house that day I was little more than curious. I wanted to see the woman I had married and to see what life had done to her. I’d even promised myself that I would give you your divorce papers, if I were so inclined. And then you opened the door and...’
His voice tailed off in a way which made Lexi look at him suspiciously. Because Xenon didn’t do hesitation. And neither did he screw his eyes up as if he had been presented with a problem he couldn’t quite work out. Because wasn’t he the man with the answers to everything?
‘And what?’ she prompted.
‘I realised I still wanted you,’ he said simply. ‘I wanted you in a way I’ve never wanted any other woman, not before and not since. I wanted you in my arms. I still do. I look at you, Lex, and my body aches for you. I want you so badly that I can hardly think straight. Even now.’
She felt the dull crash of disappointment—for these were not new words. They were words he’d spoken many times when he’d been wooing her—when she’d bewitched and infuriated him by refusing to fall straight into his arms. They were expressions of high emotion he used when he was trying to get something which was just out of reach. He’d never said them when they would have meant something. He’d hadn’t spoken of wanting her when she’d been lying in that hospital bed with her womb raw and empty and the feeling that she had failed him as a wife.
‘We can’t,’ she said in a hollow voice.
‘Why not?’ he demanded, his eyes blazing like blue jewels in the dimness of the shuttered room. ‘Because you haven’t got the guts to face the fact that you want me, too? Why can’t you just come out and admit it? If not to me—then at least to yourself. That what we have isn’t over. And that it isn’t going to go away.’
She felt the quickening stab of fear and the even fiercer stab of desire. She felt the blurring of past and present. She thought about the secrets she had locked away.
‘You just like a challenge,’ she declared. ‘You’re a man who has everything. Who can get anything. You just want the one thing that’s eluding you.’
‘This has got nothing to do with challenge,’ he said, his eyes narrowing as he met the spark of defiance in hers. He was aware of something primitive flooding through him. A tide of pure possession which he could not stop. ‘And everything to do with the realisation that you are my woman and you always have been. And nothing will ever change that.’
The raw declaration thrilled her almost more than it appalled her. She wouldn’t have been human if it hadn’t. But Lexi knew that she couldn’t be swayed by words which were driven by nothing more than lust and a sense of ownership.
‘I can’t do it,’ she said. ‘We can share a bed and maintain this charade if that’s what it takes to get my brother off the hook, but that’s all.’ With an effort she tried to ignore the prickling of her breasts. The way that they had become heavy and sensitive—as if they wanted nothing more than for him to bend his lips to kiss them, shaping his lips around them and tormenting her with the feathery little lick of his tongue.
She shivered, trying to blot the erotic image from her mind and to focus on something other than the sudden hot, melting ache between her legs. ‘It’s over, Xenon,’ she croaked. ‘There’s no way back. And there’s no way I’m ever getting intimate with you again.’
CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_89807f2e-6baf-5438-8c3b-4d54c6eedad5)
‘SO, ALEXI. MY son tells me that you are something of a silversmith these days.’
Lexi put her wine glass down and produced another friendly smile, even though her face was beginning to ache. She felt like someone who had undergone a police interrogation, since Xenon’s mother had been firing questions at her for most of the overlong meal. And her arrogant son hadn’t done a thing to help her out.
Dressed impeccably in navy, with pearls gleaming at her throat, Marina Kanellis was an elegant woman whose once-beautiful face bore a vaguely startled look, as if life had disappointed her. Lexi knew she’d been made a widow when Xenon was barely eighteen and not for the first time she wondered why the bilingual socialite had never considered marrying again. Unless she was one of those women who loved only one man...
This line of thought was a little too uncomfortable to pursue. Instead Lexi concentrated on watching the candlelight flickering over the heavy crystal and silver, telling herself that the meal would soon be over and then she would be able to make her escape. She had tried to answer her mother-in-law’s queries as cheerfully as possible—even though she had been chewed up with nerves when she’d first sat down.
Yet she couldn’t deny that tonight Marina had seemed almost kind and much less terrifying than before. Maybe that was because these days she felt more mature and much less intimidated. And, of course, less worried that she was going to make some terrible social gaffe and make Xenon ashamed of her. She no longer had anything to lose, did she?
So she turned to Marina Kanellis and smiled.
‘“Silversmith” sounds a bit grand for what I do,’ she said.
‘But you are making jewellery?’
Lexi nodded, her fingertips brushing against the two elongated silver triangles dangling from her ears as if she were showcasing her handiwork. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘And you enjoy it?’ asked Marina.
‘I love it,’ Lexi answered. ‘I’ve got my own little workshop in the village and I enjoy being my own boss. It gives me the kind of freedom I’ve never had before.’
‘I can imagine.’ Marina Kanellis sipped from her glass of water. ‘I never worked, of course. Not before my marriage nor after it. It was not considered appropriate for a woman to work, particularly if she was a Kanellis woman, with all the responsibilities which went with that role.’
Lexi looked into Xenon’s piercing blue eyes. Help me out here, she beseeched him silently and to her astonishment she saw an answering glint of comprehension.
‘Modern women like to work, Mitera,’ he said, with the tone of somebody who had made the recent discovery that the world was round. ‘Some obviously need to work for economic reasons—but others do it because it gives them a purpose in life. It fulfils them in a way that nothing else can—something which men have known for centuries. And who are we to knock that?’
Lexi wondered if her own expression reflected the dazed bemusement of her mother-in-law’s. She looked across the table at her husband in disbelief. Xenon coming out with an opinion about women which didn’t sound as if it had been formed two centuries ago? This from the man who had been adamant that she should be a stay-at-home wife?
At the time, he had explained that they had far too much money for his conscience to allow her to work. Which in theory Lexi had tried to understand. She had told herself that she had married a Greek and that she had to accept there would be cultural differences.
But what did a woman do all day when she wasn’t working and there were servants to run her life for her? Especially if she was a woman who didn’t like to ‘do’ lunch, or spend hours shopping?
She waited to become a mother, that was what she did. And while she waited—in vain, in her case—she discovered that Xenon was governed less by his conscience than by his need to control her and his possessive desire to know where she was at any hour of the day.
So had he changed his views, or was he simply expressing something different because it was expedient for him to do so?
She met his eyes and saw the unexpected flash of humour glittering in their blue depths as if he knew perfectly well the thoughts which were running through her head. That lazy smile of comprehension flustered her and she turned to her mother-in-law, deliberately changing the subject. ‘I’m sorry to hear that your mother is so ill,’ she said quietly.
Marina Kanellis nodded and then sighed. ‘I know. She is old, of course, and she has lived a good life,’ she said. ‘But that makes it no less painful for those of us who love her. We must just make sure that she is kept comfortable, and happy. You will go and see her tomorrow?’
‘Yes, I will. I’d like that very much,’ said Lexi.
‘You know, she always enjoyed your songs,’ said Marina unexpectedly. ‘Especially the one about the man who got away.’
‘“Come Right Back”,’ said Lexi instantly, but this time she didn’t dare look across the table at Xenon. Didn’t they say that there was nothing as potent as cheap music—and hadn’t the words of that particular song seemed unbearably poignant for a long time after they’d split?
But her mood by the end of dinner was much more mellow than the one with which she’d begun it and the excellent food and rich Kanellis wine left her feeling warm and replete.
After the meal they sat outside and drank coffee on the terrace, overlooking the bay. The sky was as dark as a railway tunnel but it was punctured by the diamond dazzle of a thousand stars. She looked down at the lights of Lindos and the glitter of the Aegean and wished she could freeze that moment and never have it melt.
But after she’d said goodnight to Marina and walked with Xenon back to their villa, Lexi began to get butterfly feelings of nerves fluttering around inside her.
She avoided any kind of confrontation until after she’d brushed her teeth and tackled the time-consuming task of brushing her long hair. By the time she’d emerged from the bathroom, it was to find Xenon standing by the bedroom window, staring out at the glittering sea.
He turned round when she entered even though her bare feet must have made hardly any sound on the marble floor. He gave the glimmer of a smile when he saw she was covered from neck to ankle in a pair of pale silk pyjamas, but he made no comment about her buttoned-up nightwear.
‘You were sweet with my mother tonight,’ he said.
Lexi blinked. It wasn’t what she had been expecting to hear. What had she been expecting? ‘She’s much softer than she used to be.’
‘Yes, she is. So many things have happened and she’s a grandmother now. I think the fact that her own mother is dying has made her look at the world differently.’ He shrugged. ‘The cycle of life keeps turning. It’s made her aware of how precious time is.’
His undeniably emotional words hung on the air and Lexi felt the painful punch of her heart. ‘No. None of us should ever forget that,’ she said.
Xenon let his gaze drift over her. She had taken off her glasses and her face was scrubbed clean. He thought how unbelievably young she looked. And how innocent. Sometimes it was hard to believe the reality of her rough upbringing when right now she looked as if she’d spent her life growing up in a convent, nurtured on nothing stronger than milk and orange juice. Her fair hair tumbled down over her pyjamas and he wondered what she would say if he told her that the look she’d been aiming for had completely missed the mark. Because it didn’t matter how prim she tried to make herself—she still exuded a sensuality which oozed from her like honey from a slice of Baklava.
‘Ready for bed?’ he questioned sardonically.
‘What do you think?’
‘I don’t think you want to know what I think. So why don’t you run along and make yourself comfortable and I’ll give you long enough so that you can pretend to be asleep when I join you?’
Lexi’s face felt hot as she skulked off into the bedroom and climbed in between the Egyptian cotton sheets and for a moment she felt foolish. Had that been deliberate on his part? Was Xenon trying to make her doubt herself? Trying to make her believe that any woman would be insane not to take advantage of the opportunity which was now presenting itself?
Was she? Would it really be the end of the world if she gave in and let him make love to her again?
She knew the answer immediately. Of course it would. It would take her back to that dark place, the one with the unimaginable future and constant heartache. So forget it, she told herself fiercely.
Instead, she lay there doing a crash-course in sheep-counting and listening to the distant swish of the shower. And maybe she was wearier than she’d thought, because her eyelids began to grow heavy. Or maybe Xenon was just keeping to his word and stalling for as long as possible.
All she knew was that by the time he came to bed, she was in that comfortable half-world between waking and sleeping and the dip in the mattress as he got in beside her didn’t alarm her as much as it should have done.
But then he moved and she became aware of just how much space his body took up, even though the bed was vast. It had been a long time since she’d slept with him and her space suddenly seemed to have been invaded by a potent rush of testosterone. She could sense it pulsing in the air around her; she could feel her skin absorbing it, like a dark sensual heat.
She held her breath for what must have been a full minute while they lay there in the darkness, until his drawled voice broke the silence.
‘So are we just going to lie here, pretending to be asleep?’
She let out her breath in a slow rush. ‘I’m not going to ask what your alternative suggestion might be.’
‘You might be surprised by the answer. Come here.’ Snaking out his hand, he pulled her against him so that her bottom was pushed against his belly and his hand was resting lazily over the jut of her hip bone.
Half-heartedly, Lexi wriggled. ‘Don’t.’
‘Don’t make such a big deal out of it, Lex. Relax. I’m just holding you, that’s all.’
She wanted to tell him to roll over to the far side of the bed and leave her alone, but something stopped her. Because wasn’t it delicious to feel his warm breath fanning the back of her neck like that? And didn’t his arm feel so right when it was lying around her waist? She wanted to wriggle closer, to settle herself comfortably in a spoonlike position against him as she’d done so many times before, but in the midst of this forbidden pleasure came confusion. Because this was a first. Xenon lying next to her and just holding her? What was that all about?
She closed her eyes. Her Greek husband had been very definite in his views about what took place in the marital bed and what took place was sex. Lots of it. Consistently amazing sex it had been, too. In fact, lying here with him just a hair’s breadth away from her, it was very hard not to remember just how amazing it had been.
Until after the baby, of course. When Xenon had put himself out of ‘temptation’s way’ by absenting himself from the marital bed and going to sleep in the room next door. He’d told her she needed time to recover, but in her sorrow and her grief Lexi had felt neglected, and lonely. The longer they had been apart, the easier it had been to stay that way. And then she’d had time to think that maybe it was all for the best.
She had never slept with him again.
The taste of memory was bitter in her mouth and again she tried to wriggle away from him, but Xenon was having none of it. ‘Relax,’ he repeated.
‘Trying to lull me into a false state of security isn’t going to work.’
‘How very brutal of you, Lex—to suggest that I might have some kind of ulterior motive.’
‘Haven’t you?’
‘Not right at this moment, no.’ Fractionally, his thumb moved over her satin-covered waist. ‘Tell me, did you enjoy dinner?’
‘Which part? The delicious bourekakia and tiropita—or your astonishing about-face on the subject of married women working?’
The thumb stopped moving. She thought she heard him sigh.
‘I should never have stopped you from following your career,’ he said.
Lexi stared into the nothingness. Now that her eyes were growing accustomed to the darkness, she could make out faint shapes of furniture. ‘Nobody can stop someone from doing something, not if they don’t want to.’
‘But I delivered an ultimatum,’ he said. ‘I told you in no uncertain terms that I wouldn’t tolerate my wife working.’
‘And maybe you weren’t entirely wrong,’ she said slowly. ‘Our marriage would never have survived me trying to pursue a solo career which was always doomed. I recognised that eventually. It was just the way that you told me which hurt so much.’
‘How?’
His word seemed to fill the dark room and Lexi’s breathing grew shallow. It was a question he would never normally have asked, though this particular situation hardly qualified as ‘normal’, did it? Not by anyone’s definition of the word. And surely the concealing cloak of darkness meant that she could answer it honestly.
‘You spoke to me like I was just...something instead of someone,’ she said. ‘Like I was a person who was simply there to complement your life. As if I didn’t have any feelings of my own. As if my singing career could just be flushed away. It was all about you, Xenon—it was only ever about you.’
As the breath left his lungs in an even heavier sigh Xenon could feel the ripple of her hair. He scowled into the darkness as her body tensed and he felt the bitter pain of regret—the sense that he had been blind to what had been right beneath his nose. Was it too late to tell her that? To tell her that he hadn’t known how to behave any differently?
‘I had certain expectations of marriage,’ he said. ‘Which I expected you, as my wife, to meet.’
‘Yes, I know all that. You wanted a genteel woman. A yes-woman, yet you couldn’t have chosen someone more different if you’d tried. I was from a totally different background. I’d clawed my way up from the bottom. I’d looked after myself—and my brothers—all my life. I didn’t know how to be anything but independent and yet suddenly you expected me to relinquish all that.’
‘I wanted to look after you,’ he said.
‘No. You wanted to keep me in a cage. A highly embellished cage, it’s true—but a cage no less. At first I didn’t even notice. I was so enthralled by you—so happy just to be with you that if you’d suggested we live in a cave at the bottom of the garden I suspect I would have agreed.’
He flinched as he heard the way she said it. As if she couldn’t believe the person she’d been back then. The person who had adored him. Had. ‘I’d never been in love before,’ he said slowly. ‘I’d never been married before. All I knew was that wives were treated with a certain degree of reverence.’
In the darkness, Lexi gave a wry smile. ‘Suppressing someone’s spontaneity and talent isn’t being reverential, Xenon—it’s being controlling. Maybe you should face up to reality and accept that you’re just not the marrying kind—or maybe you should try marrying a more conventional type of woman. One who likes to be manipulated like that.’
He let his mouth sink into her hair and his words were muffled by its silken richness. ‘I’m sorry, Lex,’ he said. ‘Can you believe me when I say that to you?’
Lexi swallowed. The long silence seemed amplified by the darkness and the fact that she sensed he was holding his breath while he waited for an answer. It would be so much easier if she didn’t believe him. If she thought that he was simply saying something because it was convenient for him to do so. But she knew Xenon well enough to recognise his words as genuine—and these were very powerful words indeed. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I believe you.’
‘And can you forgive me?’
Lexi closed her eyes. That was a harder question. Because forgiveness was complicated. When you forgave someone you left a vacuum where all the anger had been, and then what did you replace it with?
But she couldn’t carry on fighting him simply because she was scared of her own feelings, could she? ‘Yes,’ she whispered, but she pulled away from him—not wanting him to interpret her clemency as some kind of sexual green light.
Xenon felt her move away and his body stiffened with the hot stab of frustration. His hand was still at her waist but he sensed she had withdrawn from him in more than a physical sense. Where a few minutes ago she had been warm and—he thought—on the verge of compliance, all that had now gone.
It very nearly killed him but he forced himself to drop nothing more than a light kiss onto her silk-covered shoulder and then to turn over. He had never done this in his life—stopped himself from taking what he wanted to take. What deep down he still considered it his right to take.
Scowling into the darkness, he moved over to the other side of the bed.
But sleep was a long time coming.
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_e28fae1d-0e0b-5fe3-b938-f182118aa229)
THE SHOWER WAS icy and Xenon stood beneath the punishing jets as he tried to rid his heated body of a desire so fierce that he felt he might explode with it. Tipping his head back, he allowed the impact of the cold water to power onto his face, but nothing could take away the thought that he had just spent an entire night in bed with his wife.
And he hadn’t laid a finger on her.
He had lain awake as he’d felt the slide of her pyjama-clad body occasionally brushing up against him and the temptation to imprison her beneath him had been overpowering. He’d had to resist the urge to bury his fingers into her thick hair and to open his mouth over hers, kissing her until he had melted away every single one of her reservations.
He uttered a growled curse in Greek.
Would he see any signs of change in her this morning? he wondered. Would the frank discussion they’d had last night under cover of darkness have softened Lex’s stance towards him?
She must have used the second bathroom because when he returned to the bedroom with only a white towel wrapped around his hips she was no longer lying in bed where he’d left her. Wise woman, he thought grimly. It was probably safer to stay away from him when he was feeling like this.
He dressed and walked out onto the terrace to find her sitting at the table, wearing a simple cotton dress with her ponytailed hair hanging down her back. In front of her was a pot of coffee, a dish of Greek yoghurt and a platter of fruit. She looked up as he approached and, although her sunglasses concealed the expression in her eyes, he saw the way that her teeth chewed nervously at her bottom lip.
‘What a touchingly domestic scene,’ he drawled.
‘I went over to the main house and got all this stuff from Phyllida,’ she explained a little defensively, in response to the arrogant rise of his eyebrows. ‘I thought it might be nice to have breakfast here, since the gardens are so pretty.’
He sat down and took the cup which she slid towards him. ‘I imagined my mother planned for us to eat in the main house—but if you’re planning to play housewife, that’s fine by me.’
‘I’m planning a little space,’ she said firmly, wishing he wouldn’t do that. Acting as if she had some sort of hidden agenda when she definitely didn’t. Hadn’t she made that clear enough last night? ‘I’m sure Marina doesn’t want me hanging around all the time. But don’t let me stop you from doing your own thing. I’m perfectly happy with my own company.’
He smiled as he poured them both a coffee. ‘I like it,’ he said. ‘Quite like old times.’
For a moment she said nothing because this was nothing like old times. She’d woken this morning feeling disorientated, aware that she’d spent the night in bed with Xenon but that he hadn’t touched her. Or rather, he had. He’d touched her in a way which was completely out of character. He’d held her. Just held her. And it had been tender rather than sexual. More than that, he’d actually listened to her and then had gone out of his way to explain some of his more controlling behaviour.
Didn’t he realise how confused that made her feel?
She shot him a quick glance. ‘Phyllida also said that we can go and see your grandmother after breakfast.’
‘Right.’
She saw the sudden tension which had darkened his face. ‘I hope she’s not in any pain.’
He shook his head. ‘The doctors are very good about managing the pain these days and at least we are able to care for her here at home.’ He put his cup down. ‘It was last time I was here that she began asking about you. You know, she liked you, Lex. She liked you a lot.’
Lexi met his eyes, incredibly touched by his words because she had liked Xenon’s ghiaghia, too. She hadn’t known any of her own grandparents—maternal or paternal—and maybe that was why she’d enjoyed the company of the Greek matriarch so much. She’d loved hearing about her own far-off childhood here on this island and her long and subsequently happy marriage. ‘What did she say?’
He looked at her with the expression of a man weighing up his options. ‘She said that I was a very clever man, but that sometimes I could be a fool. And that I was a fool to let you go.’
‘Xenon.’ Her voice rose with sudden anxiety. ‘I don’t want to lie to her.’
‘I’m not asking you to. But do you think you could manage to do a convincing enough impression of still caring for me?’
She met his gaze. If only he had said it with his habitual arrogance—an attitude which sprang from the certain knowledge that pretty much every woman he met cared about him. But he hadn’t said it in that way. For a minute back then he’d sounded almost vulnerable.
Her untouched peach seemed to stare balefully at her from the plate. Maybe he was feeling vulnerable—or as close to it as someone like him could get to such an emotion. His beloved grandmother was dying and Lexi knew she had to stand by him. She owed him her support at this time because she had loved him and had married him. She would be there for him.
Some impulse made her stand up and reach out her hand to run her fingers through the tangle of his ebony hair. ‘Oh, I think I’m a good enough actress to put on a convincing enough performance of caring for you.’ She smiled.
But something in the air had changed. Something she had said or done had clearly angered him, for he rose to his feet and suddenly he seemed huge as his shadow fell over her.
‘Good enough actress?’ he echoed. ‘Is that a fact?’
Without warning, he pulled her into his arms and started to kiss her and it was as if someone had opened a floodgate. His lips were hard on hers as he explored her mouth with an urgent kind of hunger. The man who had lain so chastely beside her during the night had gone and in his place was the Xenon she remembered best.
He pressed his body closer. She could feel the jut of his hips against hers and the heavy weight of his erection pressing into her belly. She could feel the insistent tug of desire melting insistently at her core—a hot ache which was clamouring to be released. His hand cupped her breast and she groaned, wriggling luxuriously as he played with one peaking nipple. Restlessly, she moved her hips in silent invitation. Wanting him to slide his hand up underneath her dress to where she was wet and waiting. Wondering if she dared touch him. To stroke him as he loved to be stroked. To take the heavy weight of him in her hand and to whisper her fingertips over his silken length until he moaned something guttural in his native tongue in response. Yet something stopped her from initiating that next step towards total intimacy—for wouldn’t he interpret such a move as weakness or reliance on him?
So why didn’t he make a move instead? Why didn’t he push her back inside the villa and slide her onto the cool marble floor and take her without further ceremony in that hungry macho way of his? If he’d straddled her right there and then, she would have eagerly welcomed him into her body because she wanted him so badly it felt almost like pain.
But he didn’t do that. Instead he drew his head away from hers, although his blue eyes were almost black with lust. And although she could see the faint tremble of his hands, his voice was quite calm when he spoke.
‘I must say, Lex,’ he observed, ‘that you put on a pretty convincing performance of “caring for me”—even without the benefit of an audience. Don’t you think?’
And Lexi knew she’d walked into a trap of her own making. A stupid and cheapening trap. She’d shown him she still wanted him and that was bad enough—but she prayed that he wouldn’t guess the real reason behind her passionate response to him.
That she was still in total thrall to her husband.
‘Fifteen-love,’ she said.
‘I’d say it was closer to set point.’ His voice was dry. ‘Come on, let’s go and see Ghiaghia.’
She asked for five minutes to compose herself, to tidy her hair and smooth down her dress, and was quiet as they walked across the courtyard to the side of the house where they’d eaten dinner last night. Her heart was in her mouth as they walked into the large bedroom whose shutters were half closed and where his grandmother now lay.
Sometimes Lexi was grateful that she hadn’t had a sheltered upbringing and this was one of them. As a child she had seen things no child should ever see—shocking, brutal things—but she found herself thinking that nothing was more shocking than the inevitable approach of death.
Like her daughter, Sofia had once been a great beauty but her exquisite bones were now cruelly defined by the waxy skin stretched tightly over them. Her once-lustrous eyes were dulled by morphine and her body was as insubstantial as a sparrow’s as it lay beneath the white sheet.
Her eyes tried to focus on the couple as they walked into the room and for a moment she frowned, as if she was examining her failing memory for clues. But then came the hint of a smile as she stared at Lexi. The faintest fluttering of bony fingers as she attempted to lift her hand from the bed in greeting.
Lexi went straight over to her, wanting to hug her tightly but, mindful of her frailty, she bent down and took her hand before bending to kiss each shrunken cheek.
‘Ghiaghia,’ she whispered. ‘It’s me, Alexi.’
‘Alexi.’ The Greek matriarch struggled a little and Lexi glanced over at the nurse, who nodded, and the two women helped move the old lady further up the bed, positioning her feeble body against a deep pile of pillows. ‘I am happy to see you.’
‘And I you. Oh, Ghiaghia.’ Lexi’s voice cracked, just a little. ‘I’m...I’m so sorry that you’re sick.’
For a moment, Sofia looked into her eyes and there was a trace of humour on her face as well as sadness. ‘It happens to us all,’ she said gently.
‘Yes.’ Still holding onto the old lady’s hand, Lexi sat down on the chair beside the bed. ‘Can I get you anything? Can I do anything for you?’
There was a pause and then a croak as Sofia sucked in a breath. ‘Love my grandson,’ she said, on the outbreath. ‘As he loves you.’
For a moment Lexi felt scared. She was here because Xenon had wanted her to be and she could see exactly why. Sofia had obviously wanted to say what was on her mind and no words were more powerful than those spoken on the deathbed.
But she was also aware that she could not tell a lie—not even at a time like this. Yet the stupidest thing was that she had no need to lie. That what she was about to say came straight from the heart. She was grateful that Xenon was standing on the other side of the room and could not hear their whispered exchange as she bent her head to speak. ‘I love Xenon more than I have ever loved any man, Ghiaghia,’ she said. ‘Please know that.’
For a moment there was silence and Lexi was left wondering if Sofia had actually heard her, or whether she had fallen asleep. But then the fingers which she was holding gripped hers with a sudden fierce show of strength and Lexi saw her smile.
The old lady’s breathing grew shallow—and then she did fall asleep, though Lexi didn’t move from her place by the bed. For a long time she sat there in silence as thoughts flew through her mind. She thought of Sofia as a young bride, and then a mother. She thought how quickly a life could pass. She was barely aware that Xenon had walked from the far side of the room to stand behind her and had put his hand on her shoulder.
‘Come on,’ he said.
His voice was gentle and so was the hand which helped lever her to her feet. He moved to take her place by the bed and leaned over to kiss his grandmother tenderly on the forehead. And Lexi could feel a terrible, aching sadness.
Outside the day seemed bright—almost too bright—and the intense beauty provided an exquisite contrast to what she had just witnessed. She stood there, unsure what to do next, and when Xenon stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her, she didn’t have the strength to oppose him. She leaned against him, breathing in his distinctive scent and allowing some of his strength to flow into her.
She didn’t know how long they stood like that—maybe only for a couple of minutes, but when she tried to pull away he turned her round so that she was facing him and his blue eyes looked very bright.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
‘I was glad to do it. She is a remarkable woman.’
But she found herself thinking that he was showing emotion—real emotion. And some lingering sense of resentment began to bubble up inside her. Because he hadn’t shown emotion over their baby, had he?
‘Lex?’
She swallowed. She couldn’t go back and she couldn’t keep blaming him for the way he’d been. She guessed he had coped in the way only he knew how to cope, as had she. It was just that they hadn’t managed to cope together.
‘Lex?’ he said again. ‘We need to think about how we’re going to spend our day and you look like you could use a little sun on your face. How about a trip around the island?’ A dry, teasing note entered his voice. ‘Maybe take the bike out?’
She looked at him suspiciously. ‘You’re not still riding that clapped-out old motorbike?’
‘Actually no, I have a new one. All gleaming black and chrome and much more comfortable than the last. It’s the only way to travel.’
‘Thankfully, it’s not.’
‘Oh, come on—you know you always secretly liked riding pillion.’
She met the mockery in his eyes and told herself this was dangerous. That a sensible person would change into a bikini and take a book down to the pool and maybe spend the rest of the day reading. But then she thought about Sofia. She thought about an island she had missed and a beautiful day which might never come again.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Why not?’
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_0fe56d4c-a1d6-5e27-8fdd-a0b9fa2e010f)
IT WAS A long time since Lexi had been on the back of a motorbike. Not since her last visit here, just before she’d become pregnant. Before the pressure had become so intense and they’d started to treat her as if she had been made of porcelain. When she’d been made so aware of the significance of the child she carried...
Squashing the helmet over her ponytailed hair, she wriggled onto the pillion seat behind him.
‘Where do you want to go?’ he threw over his shoulder.
‘Surprise me.’
‘Okay.’ He kick-started the bike and it pulled away with a throaty roar as the electronic gates swung open.
They headed off down the road, with dust billowing up in clouds as they passed and Lexi felt the first heady rush of freedom as they headed down the hillside.
She noticed that he avoided the busy coastal road and wondered if he might take her to the famous Acropolis of Lindos, with its Knights’ stairway and view over St Paul’s bay, which was considered one of the most stunning in all Greece. But that would have been an unwelcome surprise because it was the place where he’d asked her to marry him, during an unforgettable day of high romance and promise. And an overwhelming sense of relief washed over her when he headed inland, through the tiny hillside village of Laerma and then out onto the Profila road.
Xenon’s new bike was powerful, but Lexi realised that he must have remembered her fear of high speed, because he quashed his dare-devil nature and took it at a relatively easy pace. Which meant that she was able to enjoy the breathtaking views of an island which the ancient Greeks had described as ‘more beautiful than the sun’.
The only trouble with motorbikes, she reflected, was that you had to get close. Like, really close. As a passenger you had to grip the waist of the person in front and cling to them like glue. She was being given a legitimate reason to touch her husband and she couldn’t decide if it was heaven or hell.
Her senses felt as if they were being assaulted from all sides. The beauty of the island and the sense of freedom which warmed her skin as she hung onto Xenon was heady stuff. And she wasn’t naïve enough to deny that the throb of the powerful machine between her legs was making her think about things she definitely shouldn’t be thinking about.
They drove for about twenty miles before he brought the bike to a halt on the dusty road close to the monastery of Moni Thari and turned his head to look at her. ‘Do you want to stop and go inside?’
She’d been here before, too. In fact, Lexi realised that there were few places on the island she hadn’t visited, but today it seemed appropriate to go inside that spiritual place and to think of Sofia.
‘I’d like that.’
He parked close to the monastery and they went inside. The thickness of the ancient walls meant that the interior was cool and welcoming and the echoing silence seemed to seep into her skin and fill her with a strange sense of calm.
But as they paused to study the exquisite frescoes, Lexi felt as if she was being emotionally tugged in all directions. She was acutely aware of Xenon at her side, his motorcycle helmet tucked beneath his arm. With his dark hair ruffled and windswept, he looked dressed-down and casual. But no matter what he wore or how he presented himself, he always drew the eye.
She could see a couple of beautiful Swedish women turning to stare at him and she saw the expressions on their faces. And it was always like that. Women always looked at him and wanted him. Yet there was nothing to suggest that the man studying the frescoes with such rapt curiosity was a powerful billionaire with global influence. He just looked so very Greek.
Afterwards, he drove them back to Laerma, only this time they stopped for a drink in the little village. Under the dappled shadows of the trees, they sat outside a small restaurant whose owner came out to greet Xenon, shaking his hand enthusiastically, as if he was an old friend.
It appeared he was, because Xenon introduced him to Lexi as Petros. He served them with thick coffee, water and a plate of salty olives and went inside, only to reappear a few minutes later holding a small plastic bag, which he handed to Xenon.
‘Efharisto,’ said Xenon, inclining his head slightly as he glanced inside.
‘Parakalo.’ Petros gave him a questioning look. ‘Ine simantiko?’
‘Ne.’
Lexi waited until they’d finished their drinks and were walking back towards the bike before she brought the subject up.
‘What was Petros saying to you?’
‘He was asking me whether something was important.’
She scurried to keep up with his long stride. ‘And you said it was?’
He smiled. ‘Very good, Lex. You now know the word for “yes”. Your Greek is improving.’
‘Very funny. Does it have something to do with that plastic bag?’
‘It does.’
‘What’s in it?’
He patted the back pocket of his jeans. ‘A film.’
‘Is that all you’re going to tell me?’
He flicked her a glance, tempted to remind her that she was no longer his wife and therefore she should not expect a wife’s privileges. But her silvery-green eyes looked so earnest that he found himself capitulating. ‘I’m surprised you hadn’t worked it out for yourself. Remember those photos taken of us outside the jeweller’s?’ He gave a hard smile of triumph. ‘Well, this is the rogue film.’
Lexi blinked. ‘You mean you got it back?’
‘Of course. I told you that I’d sorted it. You were obviously upset at the thought of the images getting out, so I spoke to Petros and he arranged for one of his sons to...retrieve it.’
She remembered the brief telephone conversation he’d had in the car. The sense of power which had shimmered from his dark and brooding frame as he had barked out his instructions. ‘And the photographer handed them over—just like that?’
‘Something like that.’ Xenon gave the ghost of a smile. ‘What is it they say? That I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.’
Lexi’s teeth bit into her bottom lip. She tried telling herself that his behaviour was high-handed and that he was a complete control freak. Yet she couldn’t deny her gratitude to him, because those photos could have come back to haunt her. When she went back to Devon, the last thing she wanted was to have to face renewed speculation about her relationship with Xenon. And if she was being brutally honest with herself, didn’t his power and authority sometimes thrill her?
Didn’t she sometimes fight him for the sake of fighting him? Because maybe another of her default mechanisms was that she simply wasn’t used to a man who wanted to protect her.
‘Thank you,’ she said carefully.
‘Parakalo,’ he answered with equal care, his eyes mocking her. ‘At least now you needn’t fear any new photographic evidence linking us.’
‘You must have read my mind!’
‘I must have done.’
But Xenon recognised that the light-hearted interlude was masking a growing tension between them. He could feel his body growing uncomfortably hard the longer he was alone with her. He could feel her arms snaking around him as she climbed onto the bike. In his driving mirror he could see the flash of her bare thighs. Briefly, he closed his eyes because her breasts were pushed against him as they moved away and he thought that this was pretty close to torture.
If it had been anyone other than Lexi, he would have stopped on the way back at one of the many secluded settings through which they passed. He would have parked the bike where it could not be seen from the road and then taken her in his arms and tumbled her down onto the ground. There would be no time to remove her dress and, besides, that pale, sensitive flesh of hers might be damaged by pine needles digging into her back. He swallowed. There would be no time for anything other than to slide her panties off and to lose himself inside her tight, liquid heat again.
The fantasy became so intense that the bike swerved a little as he imagined that first, sweet moment of entry.
‘For God’s sake, Xenon!’
The angry rush of her words in his ear brought him to his senses and he slowed right down. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘You’re driving like a maniac!’
‘I’m not used to anyone riding pillion.’
‘That’s no excuse. Just concentrate, will you?’
‘I’ll try.’ How could he concentrate when she was glued to him like that? He toyed with the idea of suggesting that she didn’t need to clamp her thighs around him quite so tightly, but realised that he was enjoying it too much to want her to stop.
The remainder of the journey was accomplished without incident and when they returned to the house it was to see Phyllida and several other women in the gardens, weaving fairy-lights into the trees. Long tables had been erected and were being decorated with thick garlands of flowers.
Xenon held out his hand to help Lexi off the bike. ‘My sister is taking this christening very seriously,’ he observed wryly. ‘Oh and, by the way, she’s bringing the baby over to meet you later. I should have mentioned it before.’
Lexi froze. It was stupid. Unpredictable. She should have been expecting something like this and yet the word was like the shock of cold water colliding with warm skin. She tried to smile but maybe her attempt was unconvincing, because he caught hold of her as she turned away.
‘Lex? What is it?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ She shook off his hand and began to walk towards their villa but she could hear his footsteps following her and she couldn’t do a damned thing to stop him. She went inside and heard the door slam shut behind him.
‘For God’s sake, Lex—just talk to me!’
‘It’s nothing.’
‘It’s something,’ he said fiercely. ‘How am I supposed to help when you won’t tell me what’s wrong?’
She stared at him for a moment, gathering her breath and wishing that her heart wasn’t beating so fiercely. ‘You can’t “help” me,’ she said fiercely. ‘Nobody can.’
‘Is it because I mentioned the baby?’
‘What do you think?’ she questioned as all the feelings she’d bottled up for so long came spilling out in a dark and unstoppable tide. ‘Don’t you ever think what he might be like now? Our little boy? He’d be two years old, Xenon. Imagine that. Running around with dark hair and blue eyes just like his daddy. Stumbling over a little plastic ball in the courtyard—’
‘Stop it!’ he said, in a strangled kind of voice.
‘But you asked me,’ she said. ‘And I’m telling you. I’m telling you what it’s like. It hardly happens at all these days, but it was there all the time at the beginning. The pain and the loss. The rewriting of a future into something you don’t recognise. Do you want to know what it was like, Xenon—I mean, do you really?’
He thought that he’d never seen her like this before. He’d never seen her look quite so helpless. Because this was Lexi. Lexi, who had always been so strong. Like him, she’d had to be. Maybe even stronger than him because all the odds had been stacked up against her, right from the start. He nodded, but behind his lips his teeth were clenched. ‘Tell me,’ he ground out.
The words came stumbling over themselves. ‘Every pram that passed me in the street was like an arrow to the heart. You remember all those cute little baby outfits I bought?’ She sucked in a ragged breath. ‘Well, they just seemed to taunt me with what we could never have. Taking them down to the charity shop was so...heartbreaking.’
‘You could have kept them,’ he said. ‘We could have tried again for another baby.’
She flinched and shook her head. ‘And how was that going to happen—when you wouldn’t come near me afterwards? You couldn’t even bear to touch me, because I’d failed. I’d failed to provide a son and heir for the continuation of the Kanellis dynasty!’
He groped for the right response, but he who was so fluent could find no words in his vocabulary suitable for what he wanted to say. ‘I couldn’t—’
‘You couldn’t bear to touch me,’ she repeated. ‘And that’s the truth!’
‘Because I didn’t know how to comfort you,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know what to say. I’m still having difficulty saying it now.’
His obvious remorse stabbed at her heart. It made her want to comfort him, but Lexi knew that she couldn’t afford to crumble. For both their sakes she had to face facts.
‘Then let me say it for you. The first time I miscarried, I was only a few weeks gone and I hadn’t had much of a chance to get used to it. But the second time I was nineteen weeks pregnant. In some countries, that’s only a week away from what is termed as a stillbirth, Xenon, and that is something which people take seriously. But nobody seemed to take this seriously. It was the hardest and biggest thing I’ve ever had to go through and yet I felt as if everyone wanted to forget about my baby. To act like nothing had happened.’
He felt as if someone had driven a stake deep inside his heart. His hands were trembling as he stared at her. ‘Oh, God, Lex.’
She shook her head, trying to blot out the look on his face because somehow his bleak compassion was only making it a million times worse. ‘Everyone tells you that you’ll get over it. That you can go out and “have another one”. As if it’s a coat that you left on the train which you can replace by going shopping.’
The silence which followed was broken only by the sound of her breathing.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you felt like this?’ he demanded. ‘Why the hell didn’t you talk to me about it at the time?’
‘And when was I supposed to do that?’ she said. ‘You threw yourself into your work as if it was the only thing which mattered and moved into one of the other bedrooms. It was achingly obvious that your disappointment was so great, you could hardly bear to look at me.’
He saw for the first time how she must have interpreted his behaviour. That his inability to deal with his own feelings had helped create the vast chasm which had grown between them.
‘I was disappointed,’ he said heavily. ‘I cannot deny that. I guess that was my way of coping—the only way I knew. I was aware that I needed to be strong for you—but how could I do that if you could see that inside my heart was breaking, too?’
Her lips buckled as she stared at him, because that was the saddest thing he’d ever said. And never had she felt the pain of their parting so profoundly—nor been swamped by such a yearning wish that it could all have been different. She felt a sob rise up in her throat like a wave whipped up during a high storm.
‘Oh, Xenon,’ she said, her voice breaking.
She saw his jaw clench. Saw him shake his head before he pulled her into his arms and started to kiss her in the most raw and savage way imaginable. His mouth came down to crush against hers and she felt the heat of his hunger. Opening her lips beneath that first fierce onslaught, she clung to him and kissed him back. He was cupping her face like a man possessed, as if he couldn’t get enough of her, and somehow her glasses had slipped off. She heard them clatter onto the floor. But Lexi didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything because now he was backing her into the bedroom, still kissing her and she could scarcely breathe as he tore his mouth away from hers, and pushed her down onto the bed.
She guessed he was giving her time to change her mind. Why else would he stand there, slowly unbuckling his belt, his eyes not leaving hers? He peeled off his white T-shirt and briefly closed his eyes before easing his zip down. She heard him kicking off his shoes and the rustle as his jeans and boxers followed.
Suddenly he was completely naked and he came towards the bed and straddled her. ‘Lex,’ he said.
She could feel the hardness of his thighs as he leaned over and brushed his mouth over hers. She could see how aroused he was but he seemed hell-bent on demonstrating his self-control as he began to unbutton her dress. She squirmed as each button popped free and the cool air hit her skin. She saw the darkening of his eyes as he caught his first sight of her bra and knickers and she couldn’t hold back any longer. Reaching out, she caught his erection in her hand, gasping in a shocked breath as her fingers closed round him. It had been so long since she’d touched him. So long since she’d seen him naked like this.
‘Turn over,’ he said roughly. ‘And let me get this damned dress off.’
Had she thought that he’d been demonstrating self-control? Because suddenly it seemed to have deserted him as he peeled the dress from her body with shaking hands and threw it onto the ground. Her bra and panties followed, until she was as naked as he was.
And then she remembered.
How the hell could she have forgotten?
‘I’m not on the pill,’ she said.
His face darkened. ‘And why would you be, when we have not been sleeping together?’ he demanded arrogantly.
‘Because we haven’t been living together! We’re separated!’
‘But you are still my wife, Lex. You are still my wife!’
With a muttered curse he walked over to the closet and opened one of the drawers until he had found what he was looking for.
She watched as he tore open the foil, and as all their tumultuous history crowded into her mind Lexi thought maybe she should call a halt to this madness. But any remaining reason was soon silenced by desire. Her throat dried as she watched him stroking on the condom and it was much too late for a change of heart, because he was walking back towards the bed and the look on his face was making her melt with longing.
He returned to his previous position on the bed, with one thigh on either side of her. He bent his head and grazed his mouth over her nipples, teasing each tip into an exquisitely sensitised bud. Her hands flew to his head, her nails digging into his scalp as she lifted her hips towards his in wordless plea.
He slid his fingers down between her thighs, murmuring something indistinct when he felt just how wet she was. But Lexi saw the convulsive way he swallowed, as if he had a lump the size of a golf ball stuck in his throat. And that one small chink of vulnerability made her wrap her arms tightly around his neck.
‘Xenon,’ she breathed.
‘Lex,’ he gasped. ‘Oh, Lex.’
She moaned against his neck as he reached down to brush the tip of his erection against her waiting heat.
And never had anything seemed so symbolic as that first deep thrust, though he stilled when she cried out his name in a broken kind of way.
‘I am hurting you?’ he demanded.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘It’s beautiful. Just beautiful.’
Her heartfelt words stirred him more than he would have anticipated, but then it had been a long time since he’d heard such tenderness in her voice. It wrapped itself around his heart like a velvet fist as he made love to her as if it were the very first time. It felt like sweet and exquisite torture as he tried not to come too quickly—when he wanted to come as soon as he’d entered her. He tried to think of other things. But he couldn’t.
Suddenly he was at the mercy of feelings so powerful that he almost lost control—he, who had never lost control in his life. Suddenly his head was bent and he was kissing her as if that kiss were the only thing sustaining him, as if it were as necessary to him as the very air which he breathed.
Her soft, pale thighs were tight around his back and he was lifting her up towards him, so that she was pinned almost effortlessly against his body while he thrust deep inside her.
He saw her head tip back just before that first low cry came from her lips. A sound once so familiar yet now so strange that he could have wept.
But then his own orgasm came to his rescue. It exploded like a truckload of dark fireworks going off in slow motion, before wrapping him in oblivion. And the last thing he could remember saying was her name.
CHAPTER NINE (#ulink_65935e1d-1e44-5773-8ffd-fefe87259566)
FOR A MOMENT Lexi wondered why she felt so strange.
There was warmth and weight and an odd, aching feeling.
And a sound.
Her eyes fluttered open to see Xenon fast asleep beside her. The bed was huge but he was managing to take up most of it with his long limbs sprawled languidly over the ruffled sheets. Against the pristine whiteness of Egyptian cotton, his hair was as black as night and his olive skin looked like burnished gold.
She realised that the sound she’d heard had been his breathing—steady and slow—and the weight was one hair-roughened thigh imprisoning her own pale leg beneath. And the aching? She felt the sudden rush of colour flooding into her cheeks as she remembered.
Xenon making love to her.
Xenon lifting her up as if she’d been weightless and thrusting into her.
Xenon pinning her against the wall on her way back from retrieving her glasses from the sitting-room floor. A kiss which had turned into something more. She remembered the cool wall pressing against her back and one very hot, aroused man at her front.
She turned her head to stare at the blurred outline of the ceiling light, knowing that if she reached out for her glasses she might wake him. And she didn’t want to wake him; she badly needed a moment to be alone with her thoughts.
She closed her eyes. It had been amazing. It always was. He’d made her feel as if she’d come alive—properly alive. As if her body had been designed for Xenon to make love to her. As if she’d been empty without him.
But nothing had changed, she reminded herself. She mustn’t make the classic female mistake of thinking that an afternoon of incredible sex was going to make any real difference to them.
‘Kiss me.’
His murmured entreaty broke into the silence and Lexi stilled, not knowing how to react to him after what had happened. Clearly unwilling to wait, he reached out a strong hand and imprisoned her, locking his arm tightly around her waist as he levered her close so that she was confronted by the gleam of a pair of bright blue eyes.
The eyes narrowed and his lips curved. ‘I said, kiss me.’
‘Is that an order?’
‘Would you like it to be?’
Reluctantly, Lexi felt her own smile tug back. How could you stop yourself from doing something you really wanted even though you knew it was probably wrong? She leaned forward and drifted her mouth over his. ‘You’re incorrigible.’
His hand moved from her waist to her bare bottom. ‘Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?’
‘I can’t decide.’ The temptation to continue flirting was close to irresistible, but Lexi forced herself to remember what was happening in the world outside this bedroom. The household would be gearing up for tomorrow’s christening and later today she was going to meet the baby who was still theoretically her niece. It wasn’t going to be an easy situation given her wobbly emotions around babies and especially now that she had complicated matters by having sex with Xenon.
But this wasn’t about her and what had happened in the past. It was about Kyra and her family and Xenon’s beloved grandmother.
She grabbed her glasses from the bedside table and turned to him. ‘Do you think I should offer to help with the christening preparations?’
‘I suspect that my mother probably has everything in hand. And since a lot of the tradespeople will be speaking Greek and your vocabulary is still in single figures, it’s probably best...’ he traced a finger from neck to breastbone, where he spread his hand out wide so that his fingers brushed against both her peaking nipples ‘...if you use your time more constructively by devoting it to me.’
This is what he does, she told herself as she felt her body responding to his touch. He fashions the world to suit his needs. And he does so by making you want him—even though you know you shouldn’t. She gave a half-hearted wriggle.
‘I need to shower and change before your sister arrives.’
He cupped her breast, and bent his head to kiss it. ‘Anyone would think you were running away.’
‘I need a shower,’ she repeated stubbornly, even though his tongue was cleaving a delectable path over the puckering nub.
He looked up from her breast. ‘You don’t think we need to talk about what’s just happened?’
‘And what has just happened? We had sex. It was good sex...’ She saw the look on his face. ‘No, amend that. It was great sex. It always is. You don’t need me to tell you that, Xenon. But it doesn’t change anything.’
‘On the contrary—I think it changes everything.’ He pushed a spill of hair away from her face. ‘And it’s not just “great sex”—if it were that simple then don’t you think I might have found it elsewhere?’
‘Oh, I see.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘So suddenly this has become a boastful testimony about your general irresistibility to women?’
‘I wouldn’t know about that.’ He coiled a strand of hair around his finger. ‘Because since the moment I met you, you’ve been the only woman I’ve ever wanted.’
She looked at him warily. ‘You mean...you haven’t been to bed with anyone else?’
‘No, I haven’t been to bed with anyone else,’ he growled. ‘I haven’t wanted to and I took my marriage vows seriously when I made them. I thought you did, too.’
‘I did,’ she said in a small voice, but now she was left wondering whether she had really believed in them. Hadn’t she felt a sense of disbelief that someone like Xenon should want someone like her?
Because beneath all the outward trappings of being a famous pop-star, she had always felt like the insecure outsider who nobody would really want. The girl in glasses who’d been laughed at whenever she’d actually made it into school. The girl with the shabby second-hand clothes and the promiscuous mother. Her view of life had been warped by her experience and she guessed that had been inevitable. She had never seen a relationship which worked and she had certainly never seen one which lasted. Was it any wonder that she’d had no idea about how to proceed with her own marriage?
She had tried to accept Xenon’s overwhelming control of their lives—her life—as something normal within a marriage. But she hadn’t really known what ‘normal’ was. She remembered how eager she’d been to please. How terrified she’d been of doing the wrong thing. Like a tightrope walker, she had stuck to the route he’d set out for her, never daring to deviate nor to look down in case she might fall.
And by doing that, hadn’t she made herself yet another responsibility to add to the load already pressing down on his shoulders?
‘I tried as hard as I could to make it work,’ she said. ‘But I can see now that I allowed myself to become completely dominated by the force of your personality and your power. And that wasn’t fair—not to either of us.’
‘We should have talked about it.’
‘But it’s impossible to communicate with somebody who’s never there.’
Their eyes met and when he spoke his voice was grave. ‘So what if I tell you that I recognise I wasn’t there for you? Not just when you lost the baby but afterwards. And maybe some time before that, too.’ He saw the way she flinched. ‘And what If I told you that I will ensure that never happens again? That I will learn to accept the things over which I have no control—what then, Lex? Are you really willing to just give up on all the good things which still exist between us? The compatibility and the chemistry and the...’ His blue eyes blazed a slow trail over her face. ‘The unbelievable fire.’
For a moment Lexi didn’t answer. Her mind was buzzing as she tried to find the right response. He was so clever with words and she was not. Years of negotiating at the top end of the business world had guaranteed him the slick gift of persuasion. He could probably sell hot chocolate on a baking hot beach and convince people it was the next best thing.
But how much of his declaration was about his wounded pride—about the fact that she had been the one who had walked out? For a man of Xenon’s standing, that would not have looked good. He’d told her that he’d never failed at anything. Wasn’t it possible that his suggestion they give their relationship another go was simply being driven by his ego?
Deep down she doubted whether he could ever be the kind of man who would just accept things. How would that work when for him control came as easily as breathing?
She shook her head. ‘It’s not a question of “giving up” but more a case of letting go. Too much has happened.’ Now she could feel the light trail of his thumb against her pulse. Could he tell how frantically it was beating? Did he know that she was having the fight of her life against her own desires? ‘I’m not the right kind of woman for you.’
‘You don’t think that I should be the one to decide that?’
‘Let’s just say I’m helping you out.’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘You only want me because you can’t have me.’
‘No, Lex. I want you because I want you.’
Lexi met the unyielding expression in his eyes as a silent tussle of wills took place. But she had learnt plenty from her time living with him—and she knew that fighting him was no good. It never had been any good, because he always had to win. So why not meet him halfway? There was nothing wrong with indulging their physical needs while she was here, even if their other needs could never be met. Sooner or later it was inevitable that Xenon would come to the same conclusion as her and, until he did, why not just enjoy the chemistry he’d spoken of? She brushed her fingers over his lips.
‘Enough of the heavy stuff. Come on, Xenon—think about your sister and baby Ianthe’s special day. Isn’t that why we’re here? Hmm?’ She dodged the kiss he aimed at her lips. ‘So I am going to take a shower and I don’t care what you say—because you are not going to change my mind!’
He found himself laughing as he watched her get up from the bed with a grace which had once transfixed concert-goers the world over—himself included. Except that none of her fans would have recognised the woman who was heading for the bathroom. He thought how unselfconsciously beautiful she looked, naked but for that geeky pair of glasses, her strawberry-blonde hair cascading down to her waist.
He shook his head in bemusement because she was frustrating the hell out of him, but, when he stopped to think about it, hadn’t she always done that? She was unpredictable. As slippery as an eel. He had just made love to her but afterwards he had sensed those damned barriers going up again.
He headed for the second bathroom and turned the shower on cold, shivering as the icy rivulets coursed over his heated flesh. This was getting to be a habit, he thought grimly as he rubbed shampoo into his hair.
Afterwards, he went back into the bedroom to find Lexi already dressed. She was sitting at the dressing-table mirror and putting on mascara in front of some sort of magnifying mirror.
He pulled a fresh shirt from the wardrobe, wondering how she could she sit there looking so damned composed—as if nothing had happened. Dropping the towel, which was the only thing between him and nakedness, he saw her flickering glance reflected back at him in the mirror. He saw the faint flush which stained her cheeks and he smiled. Nice to know that she wasn’t completely immune to him.
‘Want to come over here and button up my shirt for me?’ he drawled.
‘You’re a big boy now, Xenon—I think you can probably manage on your own.’
But he noticed that the hand which replaced the mascara wand was trembling a little and he felt a disproportionate sense of triumph.
Kyra arrived soon afterwards, accompanied by her husband, Nikola, who was carrying their baby daughter, Ianthe. Lexi stared at Xenon’s pretty sister and her mouth broke into a wide smile.
‘Lexi!’ squealed Kyra, running across the courtyard and throwing her arms around her. ‘I can’t believe you’re actually here—or that you’ve stopped dyeing your hair!’
‘Nice to see you, too!’ laughed Lexi.
She hugged the younger woman tightly and was introduced to her rather serious-faced husband, Nikola. But Lexi knew she couldn’t keep putting off the inevitable and at last she turned her attention to Ianthe. The baby was plump and apple-cheeked, her features shaded beneath a silky bonnet designed to protect her delicate head from the sun.
Lexi could feel the stab of pain as she stared down at the button nose. She thought she could see a trace of Xenon’s mouth in the rosebud shape of her mouth—or was that just wishful thinking? She stroked one soft little cheek and felt a wave of longing washing over her as she looked down at the little girl.
‘Oh, Kyra, she’s beautiful.’
‘Isn’t she?’ Kyra beamed, her blue eyes glowing. ‘Well, I’m her mother so of course I’m biased, but Nikola agrees with me that she is the most beautiful baby in the world. And she sleeps. Oh, how she sleeps! Sometimes we can’t believe our luck, can we, darling? Oh look, here’s Mitera.’

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