‘I thought you would be going to the office,’ she said softly, pushing her tumbled hair from her eyes and sitting up, pulling the white sheet against her, looking suddenly vulnerable.
As he watched her it was as if someone had notched something tight around his chest, but he smiled at her modesty, tempted to remind her that last night she hadn’t cared if he saw her body.
‘Not today.’
‘What about your deal? I thought it was getting close to completion?’
She curled her legs underneath her and knelt on the bed, moving the sheet, giving him a glimpse of her thighs.
‘It’s Saturday, and we need to be seen out together.’
He knew what she’d meant, and it had nothing to do with their deal. After each night they’d stayed together in her hotel room in Santorini he’d slipped away as dawn had broken, his job—which she’d believed was fishing—being the perfect reason and therefore not requiring any justification.
‘There is nothing more to be done with that deal until Monday.’
Unlike the deal he’d struck with Serena.
She smiled and something tugged hard on his guilt. She really did deserve a man who could love her—but he could never be that man. He didn’t want the experience of watching someone leave again, her cruel words haunting him ever since.
‘If we must go out, I’d like to go to the Acropolis.’
Her excitement cast a glow over her face and he realised she looked the happiest he’d seen her since she’d returned to Greece. For the first time since her text had come through the thought came that things could work out between them. Providing she didn’t ask for that one thing he couldn’t give—emotional commitment.
‘Then I suggest you get dressed.’
He turned and selected clothes from his wardrobe, dropping the towel with scant regard for his nakedness. Behind him, he heard her intake of breath and smiled. The passion of last night still simmered within her, just as it did for him, and if he didn’t get out of the bedroom now he was in danger of spending all day in bed—and that was something for lovers to do.
* * *
Serena felt as if her whole body glowed as she and Nikos walked along the path towards the Acropolis. The sun was hot, but her memories of last night were hotter, and now, with her hand in his, she felt the fizz of passion brewing again, along with the warm glow of hope. Last night had been just like when they’d first met. It had proved the heated passion that they had always shared was still there—but was it enough?
Around them crowds of tourists posed for photos and admired the view over the rooftops of Athens. Children squealed in delight as they clambered over the many rocks and Serena watched them, the reality of her situation coming to her clearly. This was her child’s history, and by staying and marrying Nikos she would give her sister the same chance of motherhood she now had.
A pang of guilt slid over her.
‘Are we doing the right thing?’ She looked out at the view, not daring to look at him. His hand around hers tightened, but he continued to walk.
‘How can we not be doing the right thing, Serena?’
His words were firm and quiet as he guided her towards some meagre shade, out of the way of a large tour party noisily heading towards them.
She looked up at him, glad of the shade, and waited until the tourists had passed, with their enthusiasm and animated exclamations of delight.
‘I find it hard to believe a man like you hasn’t married.’
His dark brows arched, and she wasn’t sure if it was the shade of the trees or what she’d said that had given his face those stern and sharp lines.
‘A man like me?’ He let her hand go and thrust it into the pocket of his casual beige chinos, his stance suddenly annoyed, his expression confrontational.
‘You have it all, Nikos. Surely women have been throwing themselves at you, looking for marriage? So why me? Why now?’ She pushed on, determined to clear the doubts that had begun to surface since she’d arrived, only to be pushed aside last night by passion. But as that passion had cooled those doubts had slipped back into her mind—like snakes slithering undetected through the long grass.
‘Why?’ His deep voice was harsh, causing a passing tourist to glance their way, and Nikos took her arm and walked her further away from the path and the crowds. He stopped and turned to look at her. ‘Do you really need to ask that?’
She drew in a deep breath, lifted her chin and met his glittering blue gaze. ‘Yes.’
She did need to ask. She needed to know if there was even an inkling of love there for her. Sally’s advice was fading fast as the reality of the deal he’d offered sank in. She didn’t think she could go headlong into marriage without knowing he felt some kind of affection for her. What if he later resented her, when he couldn’t attend parties like last night’s as a single man? What if he fell in love with another woman?
‘You are carrying my child. My heir.’
Fury spiked every word but she stood her ground. She had to know.
‘Nothing else?’ She pressed him further, ignoring the glitter of anger in his eyes.
‘Is that not reason enough?’
He turned away from her, looking out over Athens towards Mount Lycabettus and St George’s chapel reaching into the blue sky. His anger was in complete contrast to the sublime weather.
She moved to stand by him, her flat shoes crunching on the path, the sound so loud it was almost too much in the heavy and expectant silence which had settled around them.
‘Is it right for us to marry just because of the baby? What about the baby’s feelings? Should it grow up thinking it’s the mistake that forced us together?’
The pain and guilt of her own childhood poured from her heart, seeping into every word she said, but still he remained ramrod-straight, looking anywhere but at her. A small part of her wanted to tell him she knew what that was like, but lifelong guilt kept her silent. She couldn’t admit her part in her parents’ unhappy marriage—not out loud.
‘What do you want me to do? Declare my undying love for you?’ His voice was low, vibrating with anger. ‘You accepted my terms. You need this marriage and all it offers as much as I do.’
She balked at his mention of the deal he’d offered—the one she was prepared to take if it meant helping Sally get what she wanted. She still hadn’t told her sister yet. The thought of ringing her and telling her she could continue with IVF treatment was exciting, but explaining how it was going to be achieved was daunting. As was telling Sally of her own pregnancy. It was a conversation to be had face-to-face.
‘We can’t build a marriage on a child and a foundation of lust. What happens when that lust dies?’
She forced her voice to be strong and wished they weren’t surrounded by people of all nationalities, that this discussion was taking place in private—but maybe the restraint of being here was better.
He turned to look at her, his hands taking hold of her arms, forcing her to give him all her attention. Her skin burned where he touched her and a sizzle of undeniable attraction skittered down her spine. How could she find such a ruthless man so attractive?
‘Love dies too, Serena.’
His deep, accented words, said with such earnestness, forced her to search his eyes. They looked so black and solemn that a tingle of fear chased after the sizzle of attraction she’d tried so hard to ignore. The sombre tones of his voice left her in no doubt that he was talking from experience.
‘What happened?’ She wanted to reach for him, to soothe the pain which lingered in his