by Sara Craven
Every instinct was screaming, was telling her to go, yet she found herself hesitating. She said, ‘I presume it’s about money. Yet the taverna seems to be doing well.’
‘It is. Which makes everything so much worse.’
‘What does?’
Millie’s face was flushed, her eyes tearful. ‘To know we’ve been cheated. And that we may lose it all—our home—our living—everything.’
And she threw herself, sobbing, against her pillows.
Selena came back to the bed. ‘Don’t, Millie,’ she said gently. ‘You need to keep calm—for the baby’s sake,’ she added, stumbling a little over the words. ‘Now, tell me how you’ve been cheated.’
Her sister gulped. ‘The taverna didn’t belong to the guy who made the deal with Kostas, and now the real owner wants it back.’
Selena stared at her in genuine shock. ‘Surely your lawyer should have picked up on any query over the title?’
Millie looked away. ‘It was all handled privately. We didn’t have a lawyer.’
‘Well, you need one now,’ Selena said briskly, wondering if Kostas was certifiable.
Millie still wasn’t looking at her. She said in a low voice, ‘We hoped you’d help us.’
‘But that’s ridiculous.’ Selena spread her hands in exasperation. ‘I’m going to be a teacher. I haven’t a clue about Greek or any other kind of law.’
‘But if you talked to the owner, you might persuade him to change his mind.’
‘Why on earth should he listen to me?’
And, as if from a far distance, she heard Millie say, ‘Because it’s Alexis Constantinou. He’s back, staying at the hotel and he wants to see you.’
‘You lied to me. Both of you. How could you do that?’
She faced the pair of them, her body rigid, her mind still reeling under the shock of it. The agony of another betrayal...
Millie looked at her beseechingly. ‘If we’d told you the truth, you wouldn’t have come. And we’re desperate. We have nowhere else to turn.’
‘Then nothing’s changed.’ Selena’s tone bit. ‘I won’t see him.’ And then ruined it by asking, ‘Is he alone?’
Kostas looked at the floor. ‘Here—yes. Elsewhere? Who knows?’
Who indeed? Pain struck at her again, harsh and deep, telling her all her attempts at putting the past behind her had been totally in vain. As if she was still the naïve, gullible idiot who’d believed everything he’d told her.
Who’d even dared to dream...
Until, of course, his father had ripped off her rose-tinted spectacles and revealed Alexis for what he truly was...
She said slowly, ‘Are you sure it’s him and not his father asking for me?’
‘What has his father to do with it?’ asked Millie. Kostas, however, remained silent.
He looks almost guilty, thought Selena, although being an idiot was hardly a criminal offence or even a mortal sin.
But, having arranged to have her cut so brutally from his life, why was Alexis now trying to force her into another confrontation?
This threat to ruin Kostas and Millie was placing her in an impossible predicament.
If she refused to see Alexis, he would win. In fact, the offer of negotiation had to be a deliberate ploy on his part. He knew exactly what her reaction would be, and he could assign the blame to her if Kostas and Millie became homeless.
But she would not allow that to happen, she told herself with icy purpose. She could not let him think she was too scared—too broken to face him. If all she had was pride to carry her through, then she would make it enough.
She said quietly, ‘Don’t cry any more, Mills. It’s bad for the baby. And—yes—I’ll talk to him if that’s what it takes, but I promise nothing. I’m quite sure he has his own agenda.’
She looked back at Kostas who was still avoiding her gaze. ‘Has he mentioned a time and place?’
He cleared his throat. ‘Ochi. Not yet.’
Instinct told Selena that there was obviously more to this than met the eye, but at the moment she had enough to cope with.
‘Right.’ She moved to the door. ‘Now I think I’ll have a shower and relax for a while. OK?’
And on their subdued murmur of assent, she left them to it.
The shower was refreshing, but there was no question of relaxation afterwards.
She still could hardly believe what was happening, or why. Was unable to credit how Alexis could have the gall to treat her like this—to add insult to the terrible injury he’d already inflicted.
Proof if proof were needed that he’d never cared for her, she thought, fighting the wave of pain and grief that threatened once more to overwhelm her.
That all the warmth and tenderness he’d shown her had simply been a ploy to entice her, pliant and, above all, unquestioning, into his bed, and keep her to provide him with sexual entertainment until his real world claimed him back, and he could simply walk away.
He must have known how she felt. Had it amused him to make her admit she’d surrendered her heart as well as her body?
Had this ruthless pursuit of his own pleasure always been there, under the charm and allure, only she’d been too besotted to see it?
And perhaps Eleni’s forbidding attitude had been an attempt to warn her away before too much harm was done?
She must have asked herself these questions a thousand, thousand times, until she’d finally decided it was time she stopped looking for answers and—moved on. Or as much as she could under the circumstances. She’d thought she was succeeding.
Yet here she was, once again in torment. Knowing that her wounds were still raw.
Among the many things, she realised, her throat tightening, that she needed to keep hidden when, eventually, she had to face him again. Most of all, the precious photograph now propped against the bottle of water on the rickety bedside table.
She picked it up and studied it, her heart clenching in tenderness in response to the small, laughing face with the lively dark eyes.
‘Not long now, darling,’ she said softly. ‘And we’ll be together always—and that’s a promise.’ She kissed the photograph and put it back on the table.
She would not wait, cowering, to be summoned, she decided. Tomorrow, she would take matters into her own hands and go to Alexis. Let him know he had a fight on his hands.
Pleading tiredness after her flight, she went to bed early, intending to plan some kind of strategy.
But it was hard to concentrate as she lay naked under the single sheet, listening to the sounds of bouzouki wafting up from the taverna, and remembering, in spite of herself, the long evenings of eating, drinking and music under the stars.
How she’d clapped her hands to the rhythm as she watched Alexis dance with the other men, more graceful, more virile than any of his companions, before she and the rest of the girls were summoned to form a long line with the men, laughing and breathless as they dipped, swayed and spun between the tables in simple, uncomplicated happiness.
How, later, in his arms, her body had moved to a very different rhythm. Been urged to a pleasure so deep it was almost pain.
And became aware, with shame that her body was stirring at the memory, her nipples hardening against the linen that covered them.
She turned over, pressing her face into the hard pillow.
‘Damn him.’ Her whisper ached in the darkness. ‘Damn him to hell.’
* * *
‘So,’ Selena said briskly. ‘What I need from you is paperwork—something to prove that you bought the taverna in good faith, and that you might be due some compensation.’
‘We don’t want compensation,’ said Millie. ‘Just to keep the Amelia. Besides, I don’t think there is any paperwork. Kostas says it was a private arrangement.’
‘He told me the same thing.’ Selena gave her sister a level look. ‘Mills, I really need to know what you and Kostas aren’t telling me.’
‘There’s nothing, honestly.’ Millie was clea
rly bewildered. She got to her feet. ‘I’m going shopping before it gets too hot. We want some more cucumbers.’
Selena stopped her. ‘I’ll get them on my way back. You stay in the shade and rest.’
‘You are sure about this?’ Millie subsided into her chair again. ‘Wouldn’t it be better to wait until he sends for you?’
‘Not from where I’m standing.’ Selena smiled at her. ‘Stop worrying.’
She set off along the waterfront and up the hill to the hotel, just as she’d done that first time all those months ago.
Stelios was at reception when she walked in. He looked up and smiled. ‘Kyria Blake.’
She made herself smile back at him, easily and confidently. ‘Kalimera, Stelios. Is the boss around? I really need to speak to him. But if he’s busy I can come back later.’
But will I? Or, if I wait, will I lose whatever reserve of courage brought me here and run...? Except I can’t do that. I have to go through with it now, whatever happens.
‘No, no, he will see you now.’ Stelios reached for the internal telephone. ‘He has been expecting you.’
Yes, she thought. Of course. What else did I think? But now the fight begins.
She stood beside him in the lift, carefully unclenching her hands, and making herself breathe slowly and evenly. Reminding herself why she was there. Rehearsing in her head what she had to say.
Reminding herself that she was here to confront her demons and conquer them at last.
‘Kyrios Alexis is having breakfast,’ Stelios informed her as he unlocked the door to the apartment and ushered her inside.
She nodded. ‘Efharisto.’
‘Parakalo,’ he returned and backed out, closing the door behind him.
She crossed the empty sitting room and went into the bedroom, deliberately averting her eyes from the unmade bed.
The long windows stood open and Alexis, barefoot and barelegged in a white towelling robe which emphasised the deep bronze of his skin, was sitting at the table on the balcony, drinking coffee, the remains of his meal—fruit, fresh bread and cherry jam—pushed to one side.
She walked slowly forward and he looked round, staring at her, his eyes narrowing.
His face seemed thinner, she thought, its features more deeply accentuated. And, above all, tired.
‘Kalimera.’ He indicated the chair on the other side of the table. ‘Would you like coffee?’
She sat. ‘There’s only one cup.’
‘How can that matter,’ he said softly, ‘when we have already shared so much?’
Clearly, he was not going to make this easy for her.
She met the mockery in his eyes. ‘But not,’ she said, ‘for some time.’
‘Yet you are here now. Allow me to express my pleasure.’
Selena lifted her chin. ‘To negotiate,’ she said crisply. ‘Nothing else.’
‘Nothing? I fear you must think again.’
And suddenly, every word she had planned to say, every careful argument she’d devised, went out of her head.
Instead she heard herself asking the question she’d promised herself would remain taboo. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be married?’
He said levelly, ‘Because I hoped it would not be necessary.’
While she was still reeling from this, he added, ‘Why have you cut off your hair?’
Hair like moonlight...
She pulled herself together. ‘Convenience.’
‘No,’ he said with sudden harshness. ‘Sacrilege.’
She had a sudden memory of the hairdresser saying anxiously, ‘Are you quite sure?’ How, she’d nodded silently, then sat looking down at her hands, clenched in her lap, as the shining silver-blonde lengths fell to the floor.
She took a deep breath. ‘Perhaps we should turn to the problem of the Taverna Amelia.’
‘The difficulties of your sister and her worthless husband can wait. I used them only as an excuse to bring you here.’ His smile chilled her. ‘We have the matter of a personal debt to discuss—you and I.’
‘What debt?’ Selena shook her head. ‘I—I don’t understand.’
‘You owe me a child, Selene mou,’ he said softly. ‘Or did you think I would not find out?’
She stared back at him, hardly able to breathe, her whole body rigid with shock.
How could he know? she asked herself desperately. How had he found out that she’d been pregnant? Or what had become of the baby since?
At the same time realising that it was not tension she had seen in his face but anger. And directed, unbelievably, at her.
‘I—I don’t know what you mean.’ She could barely recognise her own voice.
‘Do not lie to me, matia mou—my eyes—my beautiful, shining, innocent eyes.’ His voice was harsh, his face inimical. ‘Eyes that made me believe that it might be possible at last to love—to trust. What a fool I was.’
He paused. ‘Tell me—was it my son or my daughter—the child you gave away so carelessly to strangers?’
Oh, God, how could he do this? Describe in such terms the hardest decision she’d ever taken in her life?
‘Alexis,’ she said desperately. ‘Alexis—you must listen to me...’
‘I am listening. Waiting for an answer to my question. Boy or girl?’
‘A boy.’ She bent her head, her throat tightening uncontrollably. Terrified in case she broke down in front of him—this bitter stranger.
When he was born, they had to sedate me because I was hysterical—unable to stop crying—calling out for you... While afterwards I was alone, having to concentrate on simply staying alive—keeping body and soul together somehow, when really I wanted to die myself.
She looked at him, afraid of what he might see. She said dully, ‘If that’s what you wanted to know, may I go now, please?’
‘You will leave when I permit you to go. Not before.’
She glanced up, startled, at that and felt his smile scrape across her senses.
He added, ‘You see, Selena mou, I require you to remain here with me until you have given me another child, to replace the one you were so quick to abandon. And, in that way, paid your debt to me in full. Do I make myself clear?’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE DISTANCE BETWEEN them seemed to have widened—become impassable. Terrifying.
She said hoarsely, ‘You don’t—you can’t mean it. Alexis—the past is gone and we can’t change it—any of it. We have to look to the future—get on with the lives we’ve chosen.’ She added with difficulty, ‘With the—the people we’ve chosen.’
‘You refer to your man in England?’ His gaze rested sardonically on her bare hands. ‘If he is still in your life, he seems in no hurry to marry you.’
And now was not the time to admit there was no such person nor ever had been, she thought.
She lifted her chin. ‘No,’ she said clearly. ‘I was speaking of your wife.’
‘I have no wife,’ he said.
‘Oh.’ She paused. ‘You’re divorced?’ Why was she even asking?
‘No,’ he said. ‘There was no divorce, because there was never a marriage. I broke off the engagement.’
She said huskily, ‘I—I don’t understand.’
He shrugged. ‘I do not require your understanding, Selena mou, only your cooperation as I think I have made clear.’
She rose. ‘And I came here solely to discuss the legal problem over the ownership of Taverna Amelia and try to reach a settlement.’
‘Sit down,’ he said. ‘And listen to me.’ He waited until she unwillingly resumed her seat. ‘There is no problem. Kostas knows the taverna and the land it stands on belongs to me. And I want it back.’
She fought her dismay. Tried to sound confident. ‘Then, at some point, he’s been misled. And at least he deserves the purchase price repaid.’
His glance was derisive. ‘You are the one who has been misled, Selena mou, because he paid nothing. And now you are here to induce me to be merciful, and wit
hdraw eviction proceedings against him and his pregnant wife.’ He paused, adding sardonically, ‘You are a fertile family, it seems.’
Best to ignore that, she thought, biting savagely into her lip. ‘But Kostas worked for you. You encouraged him to marry Millie. Why have you turned against him?’
‘Once again, you are mistaken. It was Kostas who turned against me.’
Selena stifled a groan. I knew it, she thought. Knew there was something very wrong.
She said carefully, ‘But why should he do that?’
‘He imagined that marrying your sister would give him some kind of privileged standing with me.’ His shrug was cynical. ‘I had to show him he was wrong. He decided to take his revenge.’ His mouth tightened. ‘A great mistake.’
She bit her lip. ‘Am I allowed to know what he did?’
He shrugged. ‘Why not—as it also concerns you.’
‘Me?’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘What other weapon did he have? He had somehow learned of my engagement and that my father was pressing me to honour the arrangement and marry the girl.’
‘Your childhood sweetheart,’ she said.
‘Never.’ His tone was scornful. ‘But what is one more lie among so many? I had indeed met her once or twice as a child. Her father, Ari Sofiakis, was a business colleague of my father’s in the early days of the Constantinou Corporation.
‘Katerina was her father’s princess, spoiled, whining and detestable and the intervening years had not improved her. Her interests in life were fashion magazines, chocolates and cosmetic surgery. I doubt we had a thought in common.’
‘Then why did you agree to marry her?’
‘I did not. It was put to me as a done deal and I refused absolutely. At first my father argued that this would deeply offend the Sofiakis family, and I retorted he should have obtained my consent before proceeding.
‘And then he told me the truth. That, years before, he had made corrupt payments to civic officials in order to secure lucrative contracts for our companies. That Ari Sofiakis knew of this and my marriage to Katerina was now the price of his silence.
‘By this time, you see, he had realised that other potential bridegrooms for his precious child were being deterred by the stories of her extravagance and temper tantrums and he was becoming desperate to find her a rich husband.
