Shouts of excitement snapped him out of his perusal of her wardrobe. A group of boys had noticed the car, and instantly he regretted not having parked it round the corner out of sight. As they sprinted across the playground to the flimsy fence that separated the school from the outside world, Alekos stared at them as another man might stare at a dangerous animal.
Three little heads stared at him and then the car.
‘Wow—cool car.’
‘Is it a Porsche? My dad says the best car is a Porsche.’
‘When I grow up, I’m going to have one like this.’
Alekos had no idea what to say to them so he stood still, frozen by his own inadequacy as they rattled the fence, small fingers curling between the wire as they stared and admired.
He saw her head turn as she checked anxiously on her charges. Of course, she would notice instantly when one of her flock had wandered from safety. She was that sort of person. A people person. She was messy, scatty, noisy and caring. And she wouldn’t have greeted a group of children with silence.
She saw the car first and Alekos watched as the colour fled her face, the sudden pallor of her skin accentuating the unusual sapphire-blue of her eyes.
Obviously she didn’t know any other men who drove a Ferrari, he thought grimly. The fact that she was shocked to see him increased his anger.
What had she expected, that he’d sit by and watch the ring—the ring he’d put on her finger—sold to the highest bidder?
Across that stretch of nondescript tarmac, that school playground that was no one’s idea of a romantic venue for a reunion, wide blue eyes met fierce black.
The sun came out from beyond a cloud, sending a spotlight of bright gold onto her shining head. It reminded him of the way she’d looked that afternoon on his beach in Corfu. She’d been wearing a miniscule, turquoise bikini and a pretty, unselfconscious smile.
With no desire to climb aboard that train of thought, Alekos dragged his mind back to the present.
‘Boys!’ Her voice was melting chocolate with hints of cinnamon—smooth with a hint of spice. ‘Don’t climb the fence! You know it’s dangerous.’
Alekos felt the thud of raw emotion in his gut. Four years ago she would have hurled herself across the playground with the enthusiasm of a puppy and thrown herself into his arms.
The fact that she was now looking at him as if he’d escaped from a tiger reserve added an extra boost to his rocketing tension-levels.
Alekos looked at the boy nearest to him, the need for information unlocking his tongue. ‘Is she your teacher?’
‘Yes, she’s our teacher.’ Despite the warning, the boy jammed the toe of his shoe in the wire fence and tried to climb up. ‘She doesn’t look strict, but if you do something wrong—pow!’ He slammed his fist into his palm and Alekos felt a stab of shock.
‘She hits you?’
‘Are you kidding?’ The boy collapsed with laughter at the thought. ‘She won’t even squash a spider. She catches them in a glass and lifts them out of the classroom. She never even shouts.’
‘You said “pow”.’
‘Miss Jenkins has a way of squashing you with a look. Pow!’ The boy shrugged. ‘She makes you feel bad if you’ve done something wrong. Like you’ve let her down. But she’d never hurt anyone. She’s non-violent.’
Non-violent. Miss Jenkins.
Alekos inhaled sharply; so, she wasn’t married. She didn’t yet have the four children she wanted.
Only now that the question was answered did he acknowledge that the possibility had been playing on his mind.
She crossed the playground towards him as if she were being dragged by an invisible rope. It was obvious that, given the chance, she would have run in the opposite direction. ‘Freddie, Kyle, Colin.’ She addressed the three boys in a firm tone that left no doubt about her abilities to manage a group of high-spirited children, ‘Come away from the fence.’
There was a clamour of conversation and he noticed that she answered their questions, instead of hushing them impatiently as so many adults did. And the children clearly adored her.
‘Have you seen the car, Miss Jenkins? It’s soo cool. I’ve only ever seen one in a picture.’
‘It’s just a car. Four wheels and an engine. Colin, I’m not telling you again.’ Turning her head, she looked at Alekos, her smile completely false. ‘How can I help you?’
She’d always been hopeless at hiding her feelings, and he read her as easily now as he had four years ago.
She was horrified to see him, and Alekos felt his temper burn like a jet engine.
‘Feeling guilty, agape mou?’
‘Guilty?’
‘You don’t seem pleased to see me,’ he said silkily. ‘I wonder why.’
Two bright spots of colour appeared on her cheeks and her eyes were suddenly suspiciously bright. ‘I have nothing to say to you.’
He should have greeted that ingenuous remark with the appropriate degree of contempt, but the ring had somehow faded in his mind, and now he was thinking something else entirely. Something hot, dangerous and primitive that only ever came into his head when he was with her.
Their eyes locked and he knew she was thinking the same thing. The moment held them both captive, and then she looked away, her cheeks as fiercely pink as they had been white a few moments earlier. She was treating him as if she didn’t know why he was here. As if they hadn’t once been intimately acquainted. As if there wasn’t a single part of her body that he didn’t know.
A tiny voice piped up. ‘Is he your boyfriend, miss?’
‘Freddie Harrison, that is an extremely personal question!’ Flustered, she urged the children away from the fence with a movement of her hand. ‘This is Alekos Zagorakis, and he is not my boyfriend. He is just someone I knew a long time ago.’
‘A friend, miss?’
‘Um, yes, a friend.’ The word was dragged from her and the children looked suddenly excited.
‘Miss Jenkins has a boyfriend, Miss Jenkins has a boyfriend…’ the chant increased the tension in her eyes.
‘Friend is not the same as boyfriend, Freddie.’
‘Of course it’s not the same thing.’ One of the boys snorted. ‘If it’s a boyfriend, you have sex, stupid.’
‘Miss, he said the sex word and he called me stupid. You said no one was to call anyone stupid!’
She dealt with the quarrel skilfully and dispatched the children to play before turning back to Alekos. Glancing quickly over her shoulder to check that she couldn’t be overheard, she stepped closer to the fence. ‘I cannot believe you had the nerve to come here after four years.’ Every part of her was shaking, her hands, her knees, her voice. ‘How could you be so horribly, hideously insensitive? If it weren’t for the fact the children are watching, I’d punch you—which is probably why you came here instead of somewhere private. You’re scared I’d hurt you. What are you doing here?’
‘You know why I’m here. And you’ve never punched anyone in your life, Kelly.’ It was one of the things that had drawn him to her. Her gentleness had been an antidote to the ruthless, cut-throat business-world he inhabited.
‘There’s always a first time, and this