‘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.’
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