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 might well be it.’ She lifted her hand to her chest and pressed it there, as if she were checking that her heart was still beating. ‘Just get it over with, will you? Say what you have to say and go.’
Distracted by the press of her breasts against her plain white shirt, Alekos frowned. It was virtually buttoned to the throat; it was perfectly decent. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, about what she was wearing that could explain the volcanic response of his libido.
Infuriated with both himself and her, his tone was sharper than usual. ‘Don’t play games with me, because we both know who will win. I’ll eat you for breakfast.’ It was the wrong analogy. The moment the words left his mouth, he had an uncomfortably clear memory of her lying naked on his bed, the remains of breakfast scattered over the sheets as he took his pleasure in an entirely different way.
The hot colour in her cheeks told him that she was remembering exactly the same incident.
‘You don’t eat breakfast,’ she said hoarsely. ‘You just drink that vile, thick Greek coffee. And I don’t want to play anything with you. You don’t play by the same rules as anyone else. You—you’re a snake!’
Struggling with his physical reaction to her, Alekos stared down into her wide eyes and realised in a blinding flash that she genuinely didn’t know he was the one who had bought the ring.
With a cynical laugh at his own expense, he dragged his hand through his hair and swore softly to himself in Greek.
That was what happened, he reminded himself grimly, when he forgot that Kelly didn’t think like other people. His skill at thinking ahead, at second guessing people, was one of the reasons for his phenomenal business success, but with Kelly it was a skill that had failed him. She didn’t think the way other women thought. She’d surprised him, over and over again. And she was surprising him now. Seeing the sheen of tears in her eyes, he sucked in a breath, realising with a blinding flash of intuition that she hadn’t sold the ring to send him a message. She’d sold the ring because he’d hurt her.
In that single moment, Alekos knew that he’d made a grave error of judgement. He should not have come here in person. It wasn’t easy on him, and it wasn’t fair on her. ‘You have four-million dollars of my money in your bank account,’ he said calmly, resolving to get this finished as quickly as possible for both their sakes. He watched as shock turned her eyes a darker shade of blue. ‘I’ve come for my ring.’
KELLY stood in the classroom, gulping in air.
Alekos had bought the ring?
No, no, no! That wasn’t possible. Was it? Thumping her fist to her forehead, she tried to think straight, wondering why it hadn’t occurred to her that it could be him.
Because billionaires didn’t trawl eBay, that was why. If she’d thought for a moment that he would find out about it, she would never have sold it.
As the full consequences of her actions hit her, Kelly gave a low moan.
Instead of purging him from her life, she’d brought him back into it.
When she’d seen him standing at the fence, she’d almost passed out. For one crazy moment she’d thought he was there to tell her he’d changed his mind. That he’d made a mistake. That he was sorry.
Sorry.
Kelly covered her hand with her mouth and stifled a hysterical laugh. When had Alekos ever said sorry? Had he even mentioned the tiny fact that he hadn’t turned up at the wedding? No. There hadn’t been a hint of apology in his indecently handsome face.
‘Are you all right, miss?’ A small voice cut through her panic. ‘You look sort of weird and you ran in here like someone was after you.’
‘After me?’ Kelly licked dry lips. ‘No.’
‘You look like you’re hiding.’
‘I’m not hiding.’ Her voice was high-pitched and she stared at her class without seeing them. Why, oh why, had she run away? Now it was going to look as though she really cared, and she didn’t want him thinking that. She wanted him to think that she was doing fine and that breaking up with him had done nothing but improve her life. That selling her ring had been part of de-cluttering, or something.
Kelly tried to breathe steadily. She’d spent four years dreaming about seeing him again. She’d lain in bed at night imagining bumping into him—a feat which had really challenged the imagination, given that he moved in a different stratosphere. But never, not once, had she actually thought it might happen. Certainly not here, without warning.
‘Is there a fire, Miss Jenkins?’ A pair of worried eyes stared at her—little Jessie Prince who always worried about everything, from spelling tests to terrorists. ‘You were running. You always tell us we’re not supposed to run unless there’s a fire, Miss Jenkins.’
‘That’s right.’ Fire, and men you never wanted to see again. ‘And I wasn’t running, I was, er, walking very quickly. Power walking. It’s good for fitness.’ Was he still outside the school? What if he waited for her? ‘Open your English books. Turn to page twelve and we’ll carry on where we left off. We’re writing our own poem about the summer holidays.’ Maybe she should have just handed him the ring, but that would have meant revealing the fact she was wearing it round her neck, and there was no way she was giving him the satisfaction of knowing what it meant to her. The only thing she had left was her pride.
There was a rustle of paper, a hum of low chatter and then a loud commotion at the back of the class.
‘Ow! He punched me, miss!’
Kelly lifted her hand to her forehead and breathed deeply. Not now. Discipline problems were the