For a moment she considered turning, walking away, pretending she’d never heard whatever this conversation concerned. It scared her. Made her stomach cramp and apprehension swarm around inside her head like a clutch of bewildered bees.
Yes, she should pretend. She could retreat, then stamp her way back down the corridor, make an entrance that they would hear. She could look Dimitri straight in the eye and pretend that she and Zac hadn’t rushed off to consummate their wedding vows with indecent haste. She could pretend that she’d never heard a thing about the prophecy that haunted Zac. And then what?
She’d never find out ….
How could she ask later? How could she just drop it into conversation? Oh, by the way, Zac, tell me about the prophecy. You know—the one that you thought would never be fulfilled?
She’d married a man whose deepest secrets she didn’t know.
No.
She wanted—needed—to hear more. Even if it was not all good. After all, Zac loved her. She had nothing to fear. He’d married her very publicly. Made the love he felt for her clear to the world. The apprehension started to recede.
She was being silly letting the men’s lowered voices build a terror of conspiracy within her.
When the footsteps came closer, Pandora shrank away from the door, panicking for an instant at what she would do if they found her standing out here, eavesdropping. Then she forced herself to get a grip. For goodness’ sake, there was nothing ominous about what they were discussing.
If only this stupid, ridiculous chill in the pit of her stomach would go—
“To find a virgin, a beautiful virgin … my God, cousin, the odds were against you. But I envy you this morning.”
A virgin? What did Dimitri mean a virgin? They were talking about her.
Then it hit her between the eyes. Jeez, she’d been so blind. This was the reason Zac had married her. Not because he loved her. Because he needed a virgin bride.
“That’s my wife you’re talking about, Dimitri. Be careful.” The warning growl in Zac’s tone did nothing to assuage the bile burning at the back of Pandora’s throat.
She’d heard enough. No way could she walk in there and confront Zac and his cousin. Not about something as intimate as her virginity.
She ducked her head and wheeled around, walking faster and faster until she broke into a run.
The third door Pandora rattled was unlocked and opened into a bedroom. Pandora rushed in, pulled the door shut behind her and locked it before leaning her aching forehead against the hard door.
What was she to do?
“Can I help?”
The sweet voice came from behind her. Pandora straightened and spun around. The too-thin brunette in an ice-blue dress watching her with a questioning smile was a total stranger. Then the smile faltered and lines of concern etched into the other woman’s forehead.
“Is everything all right?”
Pandora nodded jerkily. She wasn’t ready to reveal what she’d learned to anyone, especially not a stranger. “I’m fine. Really.”
Really, I’m not.
My world has just crashed down around my ears.
But she couldn’t say that—she had a facade to maintain. A position as Zac Kyriakos’s virgin bride. “I’m sorry … I’ve intruded,” she said instead, and grimaced.
The brunette flapped a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m Katerina—but most people call me Katy.”
Katerina … Katy.
Pandora stared into familiar green eyes, warmer for sure but still the same hue. “You’re Zac’s sister.”
“Yes. And you’re Zac’s wife.” The bright smile was back. “You’re beautiful. My brother has fabulous taste. And I know he’s never going to forgive me for missing the wedding—” Katy’s smile wavered “—but I hope you will. I’ve been dying to meet you. I only arrived in Athens this morning.”
“Of course I’ll forgive you.” Pandora noticed the faint dimple beside the woman’s mouth—just like Zac’s. “And I’m sure Zac will, too.”
“Maybe.” The dimple deepened. “You’re lucky, Pandora. I tell you, he’s the best brother in the entire world. I hope we’ll be friends.”
Pandora instantly liked this warm woman. “Of course we’ll be friends.”
“Great!” Katy extracted a tube of lipstick from a small sequined bag, popped off the lid and ran it over her lips. “That’s better.” She eyed her reflection in the mirror. “My husband never understands why us women always want to look perfect all the time.” She threw Pandora a wicked, laughing look. “He insists on kissing it all off.”
“Is he here?” Pandora glanced around but saw nothing to evidence masculine occupation. Zac had said that Katy’s husband was a difficult man to be married to. Had he not wanted Katy to attend Zac’s wedding? Greek families were so close that would certainly add tension.
“I wish he was.” Katy sounded wistful.
Was the problem between Katy and her husband? Or did the real source of tension lie between her brother and her husband? Pandora couldn’t help wondering if Katy was caught between two dominant Greek men—the juicy bone between two alpha dogs. Katy clearly adored her brother and it was obvious she missed her absent husband.
Katy was fortunate. She was loved. For a moment Pandora felt envy blossom inside her, green and ugly. She thrust the unwelcome emotion away and ruthlessly suppressed a pang of self-pity.
“I’ll call you in a week or so, we can meet for lunch,” Katy was saying.
Pandora nodded. Her heart lifted. The lost feeling started to recede. “That will be lovely.”
Katy patted her hand. “You looked so unhappy when you came in—don’t let anyone spoil what you and my brother have.”
Instantly reality came crashing back. What did they have? At worst, a sham of a marriage based on a pack of lies. At best, it was an illusion built on her naive assumption that Zac loved her.
What good would running do? She needed to find Zac. To get to the bottom of what she’d heard. To find out whether he’d married her because he loved her or because he needed a convenient virgin bride.
“No,” Pandora said slowly. “I won’t let anyone spoil what we have.” But she couldn’t help thinking it had been spoiled … ruined … already. By Zac’s Academy Award-deserving deception.
The study was empty. Pandora found Zac in the elegant sitting room, reclining in the leather armchair positioned under the Chagall painting she’d admired when she’d first seen this room. With one knee crossed over the other, Zac perused the morning paper. Her heart started to thump.
“I need to talk to you.”
He glanced up and a lazy, intimate smile softened his strong features. “Good morning, wife.”
“Is it? A good morning?” She raised her brows and gave him a pointed little smile.
His mouth curved wider until white teeth flashed irresistibly against his tanned olive skin. Masculine satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. “You tell me.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“You’re not sure? Come here, I’ll show you. Last night