‘How will you write that story, Lexi? How do you tell that kind of truth without destroying my father and my family at the same time?’
‘That has to be your decision, Mark,’ she replied, in as low and calm a voice as she could manage. ‘I can tell you how to make this book a true celebration of her life. And I know that the dark and the shade only make the happy times seem brighter. That was a part of her life and you can’t avoid the truth.’
‘The truth? That’s a strange concept from someone who writes stories for a living. Let me tell you the truth,’ he murmured, his voice trembling with emotion. ‘The truth is that I need to get back to London. Away from the manor. I have to focus on the future and learn to live my own life, not a second-hand one—that’s precisely what she would want me to do.’
And then Mark released her fingers, pressed one hand to her cheek, tilted his head and, with the most feather-light touch, kissed her.
Lexi was so startled that she was rendered speechless. The pressure of his lips was so warm and soft that her eyelids fluttered closed and she almost leant forward for more—only to find him gone. And she immediately cursed herself for being so weak and foolish.
‘Thank you for listening. I can’t finish this book, Lexi. I can’t put my family through the pain.’ He took a step back and looked out over the cliffs to the wide blue ocean in front of them. ‘Sorry, Lexi. The biography is cancelled. I’m going to return the advance to my publisher. I can deal with the fallout with my family, and it’s better to do it now rather than later, in the full face of the media. Thank you for helping me to decide to move forward in my life, not backwards, but I don’t need your help any more. You can go back to London. Your work here is finished.’
Lexi fought to bring her heartbeat back to normal before stomping up to Mark, who was standing at the stone wall looking out towards the islands on the horizon.
‘Finished? Oh, no, you don’t, Mark Belmont.’
Mark turned back to face her, startled. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘And so you should. Because right now it seems to me that you are running away from a challenge just at the point when it starts to get interesting.’
He smiled and shook his head. ‘I’ve already told you that you will get your fee. Don’t worry about it.’
She stepped forward, grabbed his arms and turned him sideways, so that he was not quite so scarily close to the edge of the precipice.
‘I’m really not getting through to you, am I?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I refuse to let you walk away from the only chance you’ll ever have to put the record straight about Crystal Leighton. Yes, that’s right. I am not going anywhere. And neither are you. I’ve been hearing a lot about family obligations, but nothing about how the real Mark would choose to celebrate his mother’s life and work if left to himself.’
‘That option is not available. I don’t have a choice.’
Lexi clamped her hands over her ears. ‘Not listening. Of course you have choices. You’re the one who decides what to do with the life you’ve been given. So you’re going to be the next Baron Belmont? That’s amazing!’
She lowered her hands and smiled at him. ‘Think of all the good you can do in your position. Starting with celebrating the life of your wonderful mother.’
One more step pressed her against his chest. ‘Take the risk, Mark. Take this week out of your life and do the best you can. Because together I know we can create something stunning and true and authentic. But I need you on my team. Come on. Take the risk. You know you’ll always regret it if you don’t. And I never took you for a quitter.’ Her voice softened. ‘Do it out of love, not out of obligation. Who knows? You might actually enjoy it.’
His finger traced a line from her cheek to her neck and the tingles made her want to squirm.
‘One week?’ he whispered, his breath hot on her face.
‘One week.’ She play-thumped him on the chest. ‘Now. Where’s that lunch you promised me? I’ve been desperate for Greek salad for the last hour.’
It was a very silly hour of the morning when Lexi finally gave up tossing and turning, pulled her pillow from under her head and attempted to throw back the covers from her comfortable double bed.
Only she’d twisted so much that the fine cotton sheets had wrapped around her like an Egyptian mummy, and after a few minutes of kicking and elbowing her way free she knew what silkworms must feel like. She felt so hot that even the single sheet was a weight on her skin. The simple air-conditioning unit was trying its best, but with the double glazed windows closed the bedroom felt airless and stuffy. And so desperately, desperately quiet.
Somewhere in the house a clock was striking every quarter-hour with a musical chime, but apart from that comforting sound the house was completely silent—as though it was a sleeping giant waiting for some magical spell to be broken to bring him back to life.
It was such a total contrast to the background hubbub of the large international hotels she usually stayed in and the city noises that surrounded them.
Lexi tiptoed over to the balcony door and peeked out through the hand-worked lace curtain. Slowly and quietly sneaking open the door, she stepped outside, closing it behind her.
She could see light coming from the living rooms of the house on the other side of the olive grove. Moths fluttered against the light above her head, but no mosquitoes, thank goodness. Down below in the garden, solar-powered lights illuminated the pathway to the pool and a barbecue area. A white cat pattered across the patio tiles towards the swimming pool—probably the Snowys’ dad Oscar, going for a drink. But apart from that all was still, calm and serene.
Lexi looked out over the treetops and soaked in the silence as though she was drinking the contents of a deep well of cool, refreshing water. True silence like this was so rare in her life that when it happened she took the time to appreciate the tranquillity, no matter how temporary it might be.
Especially after today’s scooter ride to the viewpoint.
It was going to take a while to process everything that Mark had told her. And what about that fleeting kiss? Oh, boy. Had he really no clue as to how totally tantalising it was to have had a taste of his mouth, so tender, even for such a fleeting second?
He’d made an effort to keep their conversation on neutral ground during their brief lunch at the lovely harbour at Lakka before going straight back to work. And this time they had both been enthusiastic and motivated. The tide had turned. Now Mark wanted this book as much as she did.
Perhaps it was this villa that had made the difference.
Everything seemed so still. So full of possibility. A white clean space just begging to be filled with activity and life and—
A loud clattering, quickly followed by a low mumble, banged out on the wooden floorboards and she practically jumped over the railing. The sound ricocheted like a bullet around the terrace, shattering the deep silence.
Holding her breath, she clung on to the railing and listened for any further indication of movement. Or for the sound of his voice.
He did have a remarkable voice—deep and intense, yet quiet. With that faint touch of an American accent. It truly was quite delicious.
She wondered for a moment what it would be like to hear that voice speaking her name with intimate, loving tenderness. To fall into those strong arms and not let go for any reason.
No! Wipe that image from your brain!
If she wanted a fantasy she would stick to thinking about her mother’s engagement party and all the work they needed to do to make it as magical as possible.
So what if she was attracted to him? It was only natural. But there could never be anything between them.