Christine Markham caused a sensation in a white satin slip of a dress, that plunged at the back and front, and was transparent enough to show the dark centres of her breasts.
With Theo's arm around her, Willow glanced up at him, her blue eyes light with amusement. 'You thought my dress was too short. Do you think Christine knows hers is almost see-through?'
'Oh, she knows, all right,' Theo murmured with a sardonic arch of one eyebrow. 'Believe me." And he thanked his lucky stars that he had not made the serious mistake of proposing to the woman. She was a dyed-haired, dyed-in- the-wool career woman. A good decorator, but as hard as steel.
'There you are, Willow.' Charles appeared, his boyish face creased in a smile. 'Have you remembered the book you promised me for my mother?'
'Yes, of course.' She smiled back. 'I—'
'Charles,' Theo cut in. 'Look after my wife for me a moment. I've just seen Stavros arrive and I want to have a private word with him.' Glancing down at Willow, his dark eyes apologetic, he said, 'Do you mind, Willow? A little business I need to attend to.'
'Of course not. According to the invitation that is what the evening is for.' She smiled mischievously up at him. 'I can read, and I can look after myself for five minutes, you know.'
Her comment brought a glint of humour to his eyes and something more. 'I know,' Theo said, lifting his long fingers and curving the line of her jaw, something reflective visible in his intent gaze. 'I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I thank God every day,' and, dropping the lightest of kisses on her soft lips, he let her go. 'I won't be long, darling.' And he moved swiftly away through the crowd.
'Yuk, married love—very touching,' Charles drawled mockingly. 'But what about the book, Willow? I am going back to England on Saturday.'
'I left it in the ladies' cloakroom with my shawl. Wait here and I'll get it for you.'
'I'll come with you. I wouldn't dare defy an order from Theo. Such a shame he is so rampantly heterosexual, I've always thought.'
'Charles, you're incorrigible.' Willow was still grinning as she entered the cloakroom, leaving Charles leaning against the wall outside.
The cloak deposit desk was separated from the rest of the room by a seven-foot-high latticed partition that formed an L shape and hid the washbasins from view. She gave the attendant her ticket and waited while the woman disappeared into what looked like a dark hole. Willow idly glanced up at the magnificent plaster ceiling high above.
The embassy had been built in a different era. It was a huge gracious Georgian building, and it was good to see it had been adapted sensitively to modern needs.
Then she heard Theo's name mentioned and her ears instinctively pricked up.
'Theo Kadros has behaved absolutely appallingly, Christine. He is a complete bastard; after all, it was common knowledge you and he were going to marry. I don't know how you can be so brave.'
What little colour Willow had instantly drained from her face. She knew the voice she could hear was Charles's secretary. Willow had spoken to her a couple of times on the telephone, and had met her at the same dinner at which she'd met the Ambassador. She was a thirty-something Englishwoman and according to Charles was noted for being a terrible gossip.
'I don't have much choice.' Christine's accented English was unmistakable. 'I can compete with any woman, but with an eight-year-old son I stood no chance.'
'It must have been a terrible shock for you returning to Athens and discovering he had married again.'
'Not really. Theo rang me while I was in New York, and said he had something to tell me and we arranged a date to meet. Then of course everyone was talking about his engagement party. By the time I actually met Theo for dinner it was the day after he got back from his honeymoon; I pretty much knew what to expect. But Theo, ever the gentleman, explained everything to me. I even met his new wife and son at the restaurant.'
'Ah, like that, is it?' The salacious eagerness in the voice made Willow's stomach turn. 'I might have guessed. Dianne divorced him not long after you decorated her house, as I recall. History repeating itself, perhaps.'
The attendant returned with the book and numbly Willow took it from her, not saying a word as she listened to Christine's reply.
'Let's just say he gave me this diamond necklace after dinner, and things are not over yet,' Christine said archly and laughed.
Willow did not need to hear any more. Silently she ran from the cloakroom and straight past Charles. She saw an open French door, and darted through into the garden. Taking in great gulping breaths of the night air, Willow tried to fight down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. She began to shake and she could not stop.
Images of her honeymoon, of lying in the huge bed with Theo, with their bodies entwined. Herself, a willing and wanton partner in all his erotic love-making. These images now turned her stomach as they were overlaid by others of Theo doing exactly the same thing to Christine only the very next day after they returned.
How could he? her heart cried. What kind of sadistic monster was he that he'd even had the nerve to introduce her to the woman when they had met in the restaurant? She saw again the fleeting look in his mother's eyes, which she had dismissed at the time, and she groaned out loud. Even his own mother knew and had said nothing. And worse still. . .later Theo had had the gall to come straight from his mistress's bed to hers. She had stupidly believed that his unexpected gentle passion had been because he truly cared for her, when in reality it had probably been because he'd been exhausted!
Willow could not believe how stupid she had been. What kind of prize idiot was she? She had actually thought she was falling in love with Theo all over again and had fooled herself into thinking that he might feel the same. The tears rolled down her cheeks unchecked as she faced the agonising truth. She did love him, probably always had and always would. A man less worthy of love would be impossible to find and she felt her heart break and shatter into a million pieces. She pushed her clenched fist into her mouth and bit down hard on her knuckle to prevent herself from screaming her anguish out loud.
CHAPTER TWELVE
'Willow, what is wrong?' Charles's lanky figure appeared at her side. 'What's the matter? You're shivering.' His long arm swept around her shoulders, hugging her to him.
She looked up at him, her eyes swimming in tears. 'Please, Charles, get me out of here,' she whispered, her voice breaking on a sob.
'You are upset; I'd better go and get Theo.'
'No, no, not him, never him,' she cried.
'Okay, okay, if you say so. I'll take you to my office and then you can tell me what happened.' Leading her around the building and through another door, he finally settled her onto a sofa in his office. 'You look like you could use a brandy.' Crossing to his desk, he withdrew a bottle from the drawer and filled a small tumbler. 'I keep this here for medicinal purposes only, you understand,' he said, flashing her a smile.
She looked up into his friendly face and, taking the glass he held out for her, she downed its contents in one go. The fiery liquid burnt her throat, but it had the desired effect and slowly her shivering ceased.
'Are you sure you don't want me to get Theo? Did someone attack you?'
'No,' she said, roughly wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.
'Then what is it, Willow? What happened?' Charles sat down beside her and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. With his other hand he removed the book she was still clenching in her fingers. 'You've got my book.
Surely you can't be that upset at having to give one away,' he tried to tease.
White-faced she looked at him with dull blue eyes, all the brilliance gone. 'No.' She tried to smile, but her lips trembled and she had to blink back more tears. 'Something much worse.' She had fallen in love and given away her heart and her life to a man without a shred of morality; a man who had used her quite ruthlessly for his own convenience.
With that knowledge came the dawning realisation over an
d above her own shock and despair that the time was past for her to procrastinate as she usually did. For the sake of her own pride and self-esteem she had to face the problem head-on; she refused to be any man's fool—she was worth more than that.
'Charles, you're a friend, and you have lived in Athens for years,' she said slowly, battling the tremor in her voice. She needed to know the truth. No more hoping for love. . .fooling herself. . .it was over. . .and her broken heart congealed into a hard lump of stone in her breast.
'Five, to be precise,' Charles answered.
'Then will you do something for me?'
'Anything for you.' He grinned.
'Tell me the truth?' Willow asked, her eyes as hard and cold as the blue diamond she wore on her finger. 'About Christine and Theo.' She did not really need to go on. Charles was cursed with the same complexion as her and a dull stain of red covered his pale face. 'How long has it been going on? Is it true Theo was planning to marry her, until I appeared with Stephen?'
'So that's it. I saw Christine come out of the cloakroom straight after you.'
'Please, Charles, I want to know it all from the very beginning.' She rested a hand on his arm. 'Did Theo divorce his first wife for adultery?' She saw the genuine surprise in his eyes. 'I thought not.' So that was another of Theo's lies. How many more had he told? she wondered bitterly. Then the shock that had frozen her emotions gave way to ice-cold fury. The arrogant, lecherous swine of a man, the no-good, double-dealing bastard! 'Come on, Charles, I want to know everything.'
His pale eyes looked compassionately into hers. 'It is only gossip, Willow—rumour, if you like. Apparently Dianne had hired Chrismark International Interiors to redecorate the house in Greece a year or so after she married Theo. Dianne was a woman who liked constant change, some said also in the bedroom, but I don't know about that. All I do know is Dianne and Theo became friends with Christine and of course they socialised together. Some say Dianne caught Theo with Christine in their bed, a few say it was the other way around and he caught Dianne with another man, take your pick. But, in all fairness, it was a no-fault divorce. It could all be lies, but Dianne went back to America.
'Theo had a couple of relationships with other women and then a year or so ago he began escorting Christine around. There was probably nothing in the rumours about them at the time of the divorce. Anyway, it was all very civilised, and in her professional capacity Dianne still does business with Theo's companies. When he is in New York some say she does more than that, but it is all just gossip.'
'You still have not answered my first question. Was Theo going to marry Christine?'
'What can I say?' He grimaced. 'Except, Christine certainly thought so, by all accounts.'
'Especially your secretary's.'
'Yes, but, Willow, Theo married you. I am sure you're making a fuss over nothing. I am not into women, but no man would want the Christines of this world if they could have a beautiful, talented, intelligent girl like you, and Theo Kadros is no fool.'
'No, he isn't. But I am,' she said bitterly. Charles had simply confirmed what she had guessed was true.
'Don't even think like that Willow. You are nobody's fool,' Charles said, rising to his feet. 'And what is more you are going to prove it. There is a washroom through there. He indicated a door. 'Spruce yourself up and let's get back. You are British, stiff bottom lip and all that, remember. . .'
Willow stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, her blue eyes dulled with pain. She had known from the very beginning that she was not cut out for Theo's sophisticated, amoral lifestyle. Their relationship had been a disaster in the making from the very start, and it was time she cut her losses and left.
Dear heaven, if the gossip was true, her fiend of a husband had slept with Christine and his ex-wife. . . Quickly she repaired her make-up, new steel now entering her spine. The pain would return, she knew, but first she was going to ditch her disreputable husband once and for all.
Ten minutes later she walked back into the main reception room, arm in arm with Charles. The first person Willow spotted was Theo standing in a group that included the ambassador and his wife. The couple standing next to him, Charles told her, was a man called Stavros, then his wife Alethea, and next to them stood Christine.
The sight of Theo in Christine's company served to stiffen her spine still further and feed her anger. My God! They were so blatant; had they no shame? A man like Theo obviously considered himself above the emotions of mere mortals. He took what he wanted without thought or consequence.
'Has Theo read all of your books?' Charles asked softly.
'What?' She glanced up in surprise. 'No, I don't think so.'
'Perfect. Attack is the best form of defence, so why not go for it?' Charles grinned down at her.
'I don't know what you mean,' Willow murmured.
'How do you feel about making a fool out of your arrogant husband for a change?' Charles said, his pale eyes dancing mischievously down at her. 'I have read all three of your books, and in the first one the villain is quite obviously taken from real life.' He nodded towards Theo. 'And I bet he has no idea.'
Charles was right; she had used Theo as her villain in her first book, and she was pretty sure he didn't know. Theo had only read her last book. Surprising he'd had time to do that given the numerous women he kept, she thought venomously.
'Good, follow my lead,' Charles commanded, and it was pride alone that carried her forward.
'Willow, darling.' Theo's head turned as they approached. 'I wondered where you and Charles had got to.' She was almost fooled all over again by the warmth in his smile. . . but not quite.
'My fault, Theo. I persuaded Willow to tell me about her work and it was so enthralling we lost track of time,' Charles replied.
'You're highly honoured,' Theo said smoothly, his dark enquiring eyes on Willow. 'Usually she refuses to discuss her work.' Willow knew what he meant—she had told him once after making love that she never discussed her storylines until she was finished. He had laughed and said she was a secretive little thing and they had made love again.
'Charles can be very insistent,' she said coolly, ignoring Theo and smiling at Charles.
'I shall have to discover his secret.' Theo chuckled, and added, 'Alethea has been longing to meet you; apparently she is a big fan of yours, and has read all of your books.' He slipped an arm around her waist, a confident smile on his firm lips.
Willow's slender body tensed at his casual embrace and she concentrated her attention on Alethea as the introduction was made. She couldn't bear to look into her husband's lying eyes.
'Then you must have recognised Alethea,' Charles cut in with a charming smile for the older woman, 'that villain in the first book was obviously taken from someone we all know.' He laughed and gave a telling glance at Theo.
'But of course,' Alethea exclaimed and grinned at Theo. 'I'm amazed you let her get away with it, Theo.' She chuckled out loud.
Theo's dark eyes narrowed cautiously. 'With what?'
'Don't tell me you have not read all of Willow's books?' Charles mocked lightly.
'Guilty as charged. I have only read her latest. As a newly married man I have been much too busy to read,' he said smoothly, and tightened his arm around Willow's waist, slanting a gleaming smile at her, but she avoided his eyes.
'Then you don't know that the description of the serial killer is you to a T,' Charles teased.
She sensed rather than saw Theo's head jerk up. She had never expected anyone to make the connection before but now she was glad they had.
'Is that right, Willow, darling?' Theo was taken aback. A murderer? Surely she had not hated him that much. He was oddly hurt, but he was damned if he was going to show it. 'I am so glad to be of help,' he commented as with his free hand he tilted her chin so she had to look at him.
'I admit it,' she said offhandedly, and the eyes that met his were cool. 'But then we writers have to get our inspiration from
somewhere.' She smiled.
All Theo's male antennae rose in red alert as he noted the faint shadows beneath her eyes, and the slightly too bright smile. Something was badly wrong with his lovely wife, and he let his hand fall from her face. In the next few minutes he found out exactly what.
'You'd better beware, Theo,' Charles jocularly remarked in his cut-glass English accent. 'Her next one is about a woman who murders her husband.'
'How exciting. Can you tell us more, Willow?' Alethea asked, her brown eyes keen with interest.
'Oh, I don't know.' Willow let her glance skim around the group, her eyes glancing off the necklace around Christine's throat, and it gave her an idea.
'Well, maybe a little,' she said, and with vengeance in mind she did what she did best. . .let her imagination run riot. . .
'It starts with the woman finding a receipt in her husband's pocket for a diamond necklace.' And she let her gaze linger for a moment on Christine. 'Something glamorous like yours, Christine.' She smiled coolly, and was gratified to see the shock in Christine's face.
She didn't look at Theo but she almost laughed out loud at the sudden tension she could sense in every line of his long body. Yes, you bastard, squirm, she thought bitterly and continued, beginning to enjoy herself.
'But the wife knew that her husband had certainly not bought it for her, so she realises that he must have a mistress. Then she discovers he has not one, but two, and he had the colossal arrogance to marry her while keeping both of them. As you would expect, the wife's upset turns to murderous rage, and she determines to dispose of him, but craftily and at no threat to herself. . .'
It had gone very silent. Everyone in the group was waiting for what would happen next, and at least two of them more in fear than interest.
'I think that is enough.' Theo's fingers dug threateningly into her waist. 'You don't want to give away the whole plot, Willow, darling.'
'Spoilsport, Theo,' Charles spoke up. 'It sounds absolutely intriguing. I'm sure we all want to discover how it ends.' His golden eyes gleamed with amused respect at Willow. 'Do continue.'
The Greek Tycoon's Love Child Page 15
