by Abby Green
Sasha put a hand to her mouth, visibly shocked.
A familiar sense of rage that hadn’t been dulled by time settled in Apollo’s belly. ‘He never really recovered. All he knew was how to manage a construction site. He could have done that in an office, in a wheelchair but everyone turned him down. His own employer refused to give him any compensation. His pride was in tatters. He couldn’t support his wife and two sons.’
She frowned, ‘You have a brother?’
Apollo ignored that. He felt ruthless as he told her the rest, watching her reaction carefully. ‘My father killed himself when I was eleven and my brother was thirteen. My mother got cancer not long afterwards and died within a couple of years. My brother and I were sent to into foster care. My brother got involved with a drugs and gang crime. He was stabbed to death when he was sixteen.’
Apollo’s eyes were glowing with intensity. Like dark green jewels. Sasha felt pinned to the spot by them. By his words. She couldn’t speak. Anything she thought of saying felt too trite. Ineffectual.
Apollo continued. ‘I made it my life’s mission to go after the man who had employed my father and cast him aside like a piece of unwanted trash. And I succeeded. It didn’t take much to dismantle his business because he was corrupt to the core. As soon as he went down, hundreds of disgruntled ex-employees came out of the woodwork looking for compensation and that’s what ruined him in the end.’
He was looking at her now as if he expected her to be shocked. And she was. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said huskily. ‘I can’t imagine what it must have been like to lose so many when you were so young. I don’t know about my family...when my parents died.’
Apollo was reeling that he’d let all of that tumble from his mouth. A bare handful of people knew about his past, and yet he’d just told Sasha everything. The one person in the world that he should trust the least. He waited for the mask to slip, for her to take advantage of sharing his sad story. But it didn’t.
She’d gone pale. And her eyes were huge. And she was frowning now. ‘You said my parents are dead, and I’ve no siblings?’
He nodded. ‘You told me that your mother was a single parent. Your father left when you were small. You looked for him but found out that he’d died some years ago and then your mother died a couple of years ago.’
‘Oh...it’s so strange not to be able to remember my mother. Or looking for my father.’
She seemed to be genuinely tortured. Biting her lip. Apollo had a sudden flashback to kissing her for the first time, feeling the cushiony softness of her mouth opening under his, allowing him to delve deeper...all the way... His hands curled tight around the lip of the wall in a bid to douse the growing inferno in his blood.
He stood up. ‘I have some work calls to make. Goodnight, Sasha.’
She looked distracted. ‘Goodnight.’
He was walking out but he couldn’t get those huge bruised-looking eyes out of his head. He stopped at the door and looked back. She cut a curiously vulnerable figure on the large couch.
‘I’m sorry about your parents.’
She turned around and some of that vivid gold and red hair slipped over her shoulder. ‘Thank you.’
Desire squeezed Apollo like a vice. He wanted to go back over there and pull apart that flimsy dress material and spread it wide so he could see her pale beauty. He wanted to force her to admit that she was just acting. Messing with his head again. He wouldn’t make love to her. He’d have her begging for it and then he’d leave her there, panting and admitting who she really was.
‘Goodnight, Sasha.’
Apollo walked out before he followed his base instincts and did something stupid because that way lay madness. The same madness that had made him want her with a primal need he’d never felt before, the first time he’d looked at her.
He got to his study and poured himself a drink and sat down, unable to excise the image of those huge blue eyes out of his brain. Or the impact they’d had on him the first time he’d seen her.
That night, in that anonymous function room in London, had been the first time that anyone had managed to slip past Apollo’s defences so skilfully, and without even trying. By just looking at him. Something wild and untamed had crackled to life inside him and he’d realised that he’d never truly felt desire before. He’d taken many lovers but had never allowed them to get close. Satisfying his physical urges only.
After his experiences—seeing his father humiliated and belittled and ultimately destroyed; after seeing his mother wither and fade from their lives, a sad broken woman; and after watching his brother self-destruct—Apollo had vowed never to let anyone close enough to make him care when they would inevitably leave. He’d been left behind too many times.
But for the first time, with Sasha, satisfying his physical urges had taken on a whole new level of need. He’d had to have her. And so he’d followed his base instincts and indulged.
He’d lost himself in her before he’d come back to his senses. And remembered who he was. And what he was. And what he was was empty inside.
Revenge had filled that space for a long time. He’d only been coming to terms with the fact that it hadn’t felt more cathartic to have achieved his goals when he’d met Sasha. He’d put her effect on him down to that curious space he’d been in. Anticlimactic. Restless. Dissatisfied, when he should have been satisfied. At peace.
There was a knock on his door and he tensed. ‘Come in.’
Sasha took a deep breath outside Apollo’s study door. She knew he’d said he was taking or making calls but she hadn’t heard his voice when she’d diverted to his office en route to her bedroom, so she’d acted on impulse.
She opened the door and he was sitting behind his desk, a brooding expression on his face. He frowned. ‘Is everything okay?’
She nodded, but immediately regretted her decision when that awareness of him coiled tight, down low in her belly. ‘Fine. I just...’ She stopped. She shouldn’t have come here now. The way he made her feel just by looking at her was so...disturbing. She wanted to run but also stay rooted to the spot.
He frowned. ‘Sasha—’
She spoke in a rush. ‘I know you’re busy, but I want to know why our marriage is...like this. Separate bedrooms. Tense. You don’t like me very much.’
At all, whispered a little voice.
Apollo put down the glass in his hand. He stood up and came around to sit on the edge of his desk. Arms folded across his chest, which only drew attention to his muscles. Heat washed up through her body and she couldn’t stop it.
Had she always been so aware of men?
Maybe it’s just him, whispered a voice.
Somehow, she couldn’t deny that it was entirely possible she only reacted like this to him.
Apollo saw the twin flags of colour in Sasha’s cheeks. He was almost disappointed that she was showing her true colours again so soon. She’d nearly had him convinced. But coming here like this now...she must have seen his desire for her. And now she was taking advantage of it.
He was tempted to just confront her right now, but something in him counselled against acting too hastily. ‘Our marriage had some...issues, but I don’t think now is the time to go into them.’
He watched her carefully, which only made him more aware of her. Aware that he wanted her.
Witch.
She looked at him. ‘I don’t know why but I feel I need to apologise, as if I’ve done something wrong and that’s why you hate me and Rhea and Kara look at me as if I’m about to do something unexpected.’
Apollo fought the pull to believe her. To trust in this image of innocence she was putting forward. She’d done it before. He straightened up from the desk. He told himself he was moving closer to test her, just to see if she would show her true colours. Not because he wanted to.
Her eyes got big and round and the pink in her chee
ks deepened as she looked up at him as if he were a big bad wolf. Something snapped inside Apollo, some control he’d been exerting since she’d woken in the hospital bed and looked at him with those blue eyes, re-igniting his desire.
He reached out and caught a lock of her hair, winding it around his finger. It felt like silk. It reminded him of how it had felt when her hair had trailed over his naked chest the night they’d made love.
‘I prefer it like this, loose and wild. You preferred it straightened.’
‘I did?’ Sasha’s chest constricted. Why couldn’t she seem to breathe? The air was thick and full of something that felt alive. The awareness she felt turned into a pulse in her blood. Heavy and persistent.
Almost as if he was talking to himself, Apollo said, ‘It was like this the night we met.’
‘I don’t... I don’t remember. I mean, I remember bits of that night but not details...’
Apollo stood in front of her, eyes roving her face. ‘Are you sure, Sasha? Really? Or is this just an elaborate stunt to gain my trust? To get back into my bed?’
His words acted like cold water in her blood. She pulled back, dislodging his hand from her hair. ‘No. I wouldn’t do that.’
He moved closer again and put his hand under her chin, tipping her face up. So much for his words dousing the heat. It sizzled back at his touch, just as potent.
‘Wouldn’t you? It’s no less than you’ve already done, but I have to admit, if you are acting, your skills are exemplary.’
For the first time since she’d woken up in the hospital something more than confusion and bewilderment rushed through her, distracting her. Sasha took his hand to pull it down. ‘Maybe that’s because I’m not acting.’
But instead of pushing his hand away to break all contact with him and his cynical words, she couldn’t seem to let go. Electricity hummed through her, mixing with the high emotion to create a volatile mix.
For a crazy second she almost thought he was going to kiss her. But then he broke contact and stepped back. His eyes were so dark in the dim light they looked black. Sasha felt a little dizzy, as if they had kissed.
He said curtly, ‘You should go to bed, Sasha. It’s late.’ He went to the door and held it open.
Sasha couldn’t understand what had just come over her. The depth of the need to have him kiss her still left her shaken.
Dear God, had she actually asked...?
She all but ran out of his office before she could read the disgust on his face or, worse, let him see the awful surge of humiliation climbing up from her gut.
Apollo waited until Sasha had disappeared before closing his door. He went back to his desk and downed his drink in one, as if that might burn away how close he’d come to taking what she was offering, lifting that lush mouth towards him, begging with those huge eyes to kiss her.
One minute he’d been wondering how she’d managed to sneak under his guard again, and the next he’d been on the verge of hauling her closer to relive that night they’d shared—which was exactly what she’d been angling for since they’d married.
His hand tightened around the crystal glass so much he had to relax for fear of breaking it.
Sexual frustration bit sharply into his gut. He’d spent the last three months without so much as a flicker of arousal when he’d looked at his wife. And now it wasn’t a flicker. It was an inferno.
He couldn’t understand what was happening. But he knew that, no matter how intense it got, he would not be weak. He’d been weak for her once before and she’d upended his life. It wouldn’t happen again.
CHAPTER THREE
SASHA WENT UPSTAIRS to her bedroom, feeling dazed. She stood in the middle of the room and put her fingers to her mouth, almost as if to test that they hadn’t kissed, it had felt so real, so inevitable. But, no, her mouth was the same. Not swollen. Throbbing with sensation.
Because she knew what that felt like.
It hit her then, like a sledgehammer. She’d wanted it so badly because she knew what it felt like to be kissed by him. That’s why her body had literally ached...from the memory of knowing his touch. Wanting it again.
She sat down on the end of her bed, going cold inside. Thank God he’d pulled back before she’d have been able to articulate her need any more than she already had, silently. She cringed to think of how he’d put his hands on her arms, literally pushing her away.
She realised something else. Maybe she’d craved it so badly because it had felt familiar to her body to be kissed by him. And since everything else around her was so unfamiliar she’d gravitated towards that. A natural response of her body to seek anything familiar?
And exciting, whispered a little voice.
It didn’t give her much relief to put it into this context. A flimsy justification for what had nearly happened.
And with a man who resented her presence and had told her to her face that he didn’t trust her. What kind of a masochist was she?
When Sasha made her way down to breakfast the next morning she felt ragged. She’d woken at dawn, sweaty, tangled in her sheets. Dissatisfied. She’d slept fitfully and her dreams had been full of X-rated images. Images that she couldn’t be sure now were just from her dreams. They’d felt like memories...
When she walked onto the small terrace where she’d eaten breakfast alone all week, she wasn’t prepared to see Apollo. She hadn’t heard his car that morning but she’d still been hoping she might have missed it. But then she realised it was a Saturday so he must be off work.
He looked up at her as he lifted a coffee cup to his mouth, but immediately put it down again and stood up. There was no discernible expression on his face.
She avoided his eye, hating the way her body prickled all over with the same heat she’d felt last night. She almost resented his presence, which was ridiculous when it was his house.
Their house.
But it didn’t feel like her house. ‘Good morning.’
‘Kalimera.’
Sasha sat down and Rhea appeared with coffee, which she poured into a cup for Sasha.
Sasha smiled tentatively at her and said carefully, ‘Efharisto.’
Rhea nodded her head and smiled. When she was gone Apollo said, ‘You’ve been learning Greek?’
Sasha picked up a pastry, anything to avoid looking at Apollo and reliving that moment last night when she’d all but begged him to kiss her. ‘Just a few everyday words. Kara helps me.’
‘You didn’t seem inclined to want to pick it up before.’
Sasha’s knife stilled. She looked at Apollo. ‘Can we agree that perhaps things might be different now? You keep telling me things I did, or the way I was, and I can’t remember any of it. Can we just...go forward from here?’
He looked at her for a long moment. So long that she felt her face get hot. Eventually he inclined his head. ‘Very well. That’s fair.’
Sasha breathed out.
‘How are you feeling now? Physically?’
She took a gulp of coffee, composing herself. ‘I’m fine...much better. Physically.’ She made a face. ‘Mentally...the fogginess has gone but now it’s just a great big blank.’
And the way you make me feel like I’m plugged into some hot electrical force.
She clamped her mouth shut in case the words fell out.
Apollo wiped his mouth with a napkin. ‘I’ve arranged for the doctor to come this morning to check you over.’
Sasha’s gut clenched. Was he trying to get rid of her? What would happen once she was well enough? Why did she feel sick at the prospect when he obviously resented her presence? Impulsively she asked, ‘Was it ever good? Between us?’
Apollo put his hand on the table, face unreadable. ‘Briefly.’
The thought of him wanting her as much as she’d wanted him last night was too overwhelming to contemplate for a moment. She s
truggled to understand. ‘But...then why—?’
‘Didn’t it work?’ His voice was harsh.
Sasha nodded. Just at that moment Rhea appeared and Sasha cursed the interruption.
Rhea said, ‘The doctor is here to see Kyria Vasilis.’
Apollo looked at Rhea and smiled. A proper smile. The first smile Sasha had seen on his face. Her heart flip-flopped. It transformed him from merely gorgeous to devastating.
But then he looked back at her and it faded. Sasha felt a chill breeze up her spine. He really hated her. For whatever she had done. And a moment ago she’d been ready to hear it but now she was glad of the interruption.
‘Physically you’ve made a remarkable recovery, Mrs Vasilis. Emotionally, how are you doing?’
Sasha tucked her shirt back into her trousers. The doctor had seen her in her bedroom. The same kind female doctor who had attended to her in the hospital after the accident.
She sat down on a chair by the writing desk, aware of the doctor’s keen dark eyes on her. ‘I’m... I guess I’m okay. Getting used to my life.’
And the husband who doesn’t want me here.
The doctor nodded. ‘I can imagine it’ll take some adjustment. And your memory...anything coming back yet?’
Sasha shook her head. ‘Not really. It’s just all blank. But I had dreams last night.’ She stopped, blushing.
The doctor said, ‘Go on, my dear.’
Embarrassed to have mentioned this, Sasha said, ‘It’s just that they felt like memories more than a dream. Of me and my husband.’
The doctor nodded. ‘That could very well be the case. I’d advise you to keep a notebook by the bed, write down your dreams and that could help jog something. But don’t put too much pressure on yourself, our minds work in mysterious ways.’
The doctor stood up and Sasha stood too. ‘There was something else.’
‘Oh?’ The doctor was putting things back into her bag. She stopped.
