The Greek's Marriage Bargain

by Sharon Kendrick

  His words were distracting and so was his touch and Lexi was glad to pull her hand away and scrabble around in her bag for her passport and wallet.

  Fast-tracked through customs, Xenon was treated like a homecoming king and greeted fondly by airport workers he’d known since he was a boy. Lexi had forgotten how he could lay on the charm and get people eating out of his hand—especially here in his homeland. He possessed an ability to blend in no matter what the company and could happily drink with socialites and lorry-drivers alike. Hadn’t he once managed to avert a dockers’ strike by the simple expedient of walking into the shipyard and talking to the union chief over a cup of coffee?

  Outside the terminal a car was waiting and Xenon said something in Greek to the driver as they pulled away. They’d been driving for about ten minutes when Lexi realised they were going the wrong way.

  ‘This isn’t the way to your home.’

  ‘I know it isn’t. We’re going into Rhodes Town first.’

  She’d begun to feel nervous at the thought of seeing his family again and the thought of a delay was only adding to her anxiety levels. ‘What for?’

  ‘Have patience, Lex. Just sit back and enjoy the scenery, and let me take care of it.’

  Lexi glowered. There he was, doing that dominant macho thing again—and she was just letting him get away with it. And yet it was frighteningly easy to sink back into the soft leather seat and drink in the beautiful views which were flashing past the window. Before long they had reached Rhodes Town and, since Xenon’s driver was experienced enough to skilfully negotiate the busy streets, the car was soon sliding to a halt outside a small jeweller’s shop.

  Lexi saw the glint of precious metals and diamonds glittering in the window and she frowned. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Simple. You’re missing a wedding ring, so we’re buying you a new one.’

  ‘No,’ she said desperately. ‘We’re not.’

  But the driver was already opening her door and, other than creating a very public scene, what choice did she have other than to step out onto the hot pavement? How could she put into words without sounding stupidly vulnerable that she didn’t want a pretend ring. She didn’t want anything that was going to make an even bigger mockery of her failed marriage.

  But Xenon was really in control mode by then, busy speaking in Greek to the shop’s owner who swiftly produced a velvet tray of rings—some plain, some embellished and all of them extremely costly, judging by the price-tags.

  Did the man notice her marked lack of enthusiasm and wonder why she wasn’t happy or triumphant to have such an eligible man fussing over her? Did he notice her flinch as Xenon masterminded the whole operation, his gaze flicking over the tray with the eye of the connoisseur as he made suggestions about what kind of ring she’d prefer. But she couldn’t really walk out of there empty-handed and so in the end she chose the simplest of them all—a discreet band in eighteen-carat gold.

  ‘Try not to lose this one, darling,’ murmured Xenon in English. Picking up the ring, he slid it slowly onto her finger, his blue eyes narrowing behind the lush curtain of his lashes as if he had felt the automatic tensing of her hand.

  As Xenon’s payment card was being processed, the shop owner leaned forward to admire the clunky silver bangle which was dangling from Lexi’s wrist.

  ‘This is beautiful,’ he said.

  ‘My wife makes jewellery,’ put in Xenon helpfully.

  Lexi shot him a furious look, thinking that he was getting carried away. He didn’t need to play the proud husband in front of someone they were never going to see again.

  The shopkeeper nodded. ‘You sell anything here on Rhodes?’

  ‘No. Only in England,’ she said, with a smile.

  ‘You want to bring me some pieces to look at? I’m always on the lookout for original work. Tourists like to spend money when they are on holiday.’

  She opened her mouth to explain that her visit here was temporary, but once again Xenon butted in.

  ‘We have rather a busy schedule at the moment, don’t we, darling?’

  Lexi wanted to drum her fists against his chest and tell him that she was not his darling. She wanted to tear the fake wedding ring from her finger and hurl it down on the counter, but she respected Xenon’s position within the local community, even if he didn’t respect her feelings. She began to wonder how on earth she was going to maintain this crazy façade for more than a minute when he seemed determined to get under her skin at every opportunity.

  The walls of the shop felt as if they were closing in on her and, deliberately, she looked at her watch. ‘We really ought to be going,’ she said.

  They stepped outside into the sunlight and Lexi was just about to give him a piece of her mind when a flare of white, incandescent light almost blinded her. A man dressed in denim leapt out from the side of the building and began firing off a rapid series of photos, pushing a giant camera in her face.

  For a moment they were both too startled to move before Xenon swore at him.

  ‘What the hell?’ he snarled, making a lunge for the camera.

  But although he was fast, the photographer had the element of surprise on his side. He sprinted off and jumped onto the back of a waiting motorbike, which began to weave its way up the street before roaring off into the distance, lost to sight.

  ‘I’m going after him!’ Xenon snarled, but Lexi clamped a restraining hand on his bunched arm.

  ‘How? Not by foot, you won’t—and you’ll never catch him in this enormous car!’ But she was shaking. Shaking like a leaf. She hadn’t been ambushed like that in a long time and she had forgotten how exposed it could make you feel. She could see several tourists stopping now and, inevitably, some of them were getting their phones out. ‘Now look what’s happening,’ she moaned.

  ‘Get in the car,’ said Xenon, pushing her into the back seat before sliding in beside her.

  Once they’d pulled away he took out his mobile phone, punched out a number and began speaking in a flurry of Greek for several furious minutes. The call finished, he turned to her. ‘Perhaps I should have anticipated that might happen. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Well, it’s a bit late to be sorry,’ she said crossly, trying not to melt beneath the genuine contrition in his blue eyes. ‘That was a gift of a photo. Why, I could even write the headlines for them: Greek Billionaire And Ex-Wife Ring The Changes.’

  ‘That’s very good, Lex. Did you ever think about a career in copywriting?’

  ‘Don’t you dare try and make a joke about it. Didn’t you stop to think that someone might have seen us going into a jewellery shop and rung the press?’

  ‘Oddly enough, the press aren’t my first priority. I don’t spend my damned life tiptoeing around them.’

  ‘Well, maybe you should. Now they’ll think there’s a story when there isn’t. A divorcing couple buying a brand-new wedding ring! Why don’t we find somewhere where I can buy a white dress and a bunch of flowers and we can maybe pose for some more photos?’

  ‘Stop worrying.’ His voice was soothing. ‘I’ve sorted it.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Just leave it to me.’

  To Lexi’s surprise, the journey passed quickly and suddenly the magnificent Kanellis estate was coming into view—a glorious citadel overlooking the medieval town of Lindos. But despite the beauty which surrounded her, Lexi felt her body tense as the car drove through the electronic gates before coming to a halt in the main courtyard.

  Because she still had to face Marina, didn’t she? And hadn’t that always been a stumbling block?

  Xenon’s mother hadn’t been her biggest fan. She clearly disapproved of a flashy English pop-star with a troubled background. It didn’t matter what Lexi did—or what she tried to do—she was never able to do it right. Toning down her image and trying to b
lend into an aristocratic Greek background was never going to work. She’d never broken through that initial barrier of hostility and it seemed that her mother-in-law could never get past the fact that she thought her beloved son had married beneath him.

  But that was no longer relevant, Lexi told herself. I’m doing this for Jason. And I am no longer that woman who is so easily intimidated.

  ‘Here we are,’ said Xenon. He caught her gaze and held it. ‘Ready?’

  She drew in a breath. ‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

  The driver opened the door for her and she stepped out into the sunny central courtyard where she was immediately enveloped in warm, fragrant air.

  Looking down she could see the crystal waters of St Nicolas Bay and the hills which framed it like a picture. She could smell pine and lemons and hear the magnified hum of the cicadas. It was so typically and beautifully Greek that for a moment Lexi just stood there, drinking in the moment.

  The land had been owned by the family for centuries and the tiered estate was vast and sprawling. All three of its bougainvillea-covered properties were entirely separate—each with their own private gardens. Pots of tumbling flowers provided splashes of colour—and the infinity pool seemed to connect with the sea and sky in layers of different, dazzling blues. Lexi had often wondered what it must have been like to have grown up in a place as beautiful as this. A place which was as different from the scruffy social housing where she’d spent her formative years as night was to day.

  Suddenly she saw a familiar figure emerging from the main house, the sun illuminating the new threads of grey which were streaking her dark hair.

  Her workaday dress was covered with an apron and Lexi’s heart clenched in her chest as the woman grew closer. ‘Phyllida!’ she croaked—and then all the breath was knocked out of her lungs as she was caught in a fierce embrace by Xenon’s London housekeeper.

  For a few moments the women hugged but didn’t speak and Lexi was glad because the lump in her throat would have made speech impossible. Because it had been Phyllida who had been with her in London the night Lexi had started to bleed. Phyllida who had rung for the doctor and accompanied Lexi to hospital when the pain had got so bad and nobody could get hold of Xenon.

  Lexi felt the memories come flooding back. There had been no one else she had trusted enough to ask at the time. Her first miscarriage had been so early—at eight weeks it had been more like a very heavy though heartbreaking period. But the second time had been different.

  All her hopes and dreams had been focused on the life growing inside her and when that first low cramping pain had caught her by surprise, she had been so scared. She hadn’t been able to believe it was happening all over again—especially because she’d passed the ‘danger’ period of twelve weeks. But it had been happening and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop it. It had been the Greek housekeeper who had kept a silent vigil throughout the day and into the next day, until at long last Xenon had arrived back from his trip to the Far East. He had walked into her private room at the hospital and Lexi had seen the empty look in his eyes when she told him that the baby had died. And she had known that nothing was ever going to be the same again.

  She drew back from the housekeeper’s embrace and took a moment to compose herself. ‘Oh, Phyllida,’ she said. ‘I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again.’

  ‘Kyrios Alexi.’ Clearly emotional herself, Phyllida touched Lexi’s hair. ‘You have changed.’

  ‘No longer the crazy redhead? I know. While you look exactly the same. You look fantastic.’

  ‘No. I am too fat.’ Phyllida laughed as she patted her ample stomach. ‘Not like you.’

  Xenon glanced across at the main house. ‘Is my mother around?’ he asked.

  ‘She went to visit your sister. She said that you should settle in and she will see you at dinner.’

  Xenon’s voice dropped. ‘And my grandmother?’

  Phyllida shook her head, her face growing grave. ‘She is weak, but she is comfortable,’ she said. ‘The nurse is with her now and she is looking forward to seeing her grandson again. Now. Shall I make fresh lemonade for you and Kyrios Alexi after your long journey?’

  ‘Efharisto,’ said Xenon, his hand moving to brush the base of Lexi’s spine. ‘Come on, Lex. Let’s go and unpack.’

  It was the briefest of touches but it started a whisper of reaction flaring over her skin and Lexi could feel her heart pounding as she followed him towards the furthest of the three villas, with its prime position overlooking the bay.

  Their cases had been deposited inside the house and left on the ghostly surface of the marble floor—standing side by side as if in silent mockery. The white walls and dark wooden furniture were just as she remembered and Phyllida must have put that vase of white roses on one of the low tables.

  The door of the villa closed behind them and Lexi was left with a feeling of panic. She thought of the bedroom next door and unwanted memories came crowding back. The smell of sex and the rumpled sheets. The closeness of Xenon’s hard body.

  She licked her tongue over impossibly dry lips before she spoke.

  ‘Xenon, this is crazy. There’s no way we can stay here.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You know very well why not. You’re not a stupid man, although at times you can be a very stubborn one.’ She steeled herself against the soft light of battle on his face. Don’t make me spell it out, her eyes pleaded silently. But his blue gaze remained obdurate and she glared at him. ‘There’s only one bed,’ she said.

  ‘And? Isn’t the whole point that we’re here as a married couple—and married couples share beds? What did you think would happen, Lex? That I would stay in the main house, knowing that you were closeted in here all on your own?’

  ‘You could do what any other man would do under the circumstances—and offer to sleep on the sofa!’

  He shot a disparaging look at the piece of furniture she was indicating. ‘On that? Come on—that was never designed to be slept on. A Greek husband sleeps in the marital bed.’ His blue eyes gleamed with a mixture of mockery and promise. ‘With his wife.’

  Lexi hated the way her body responded to the unashamedly sexual look which accompanied his macho boast. It was easy to tell herself she shouldn’t want him but much harder to ignore the way he was making her feel. When his gaze raked over her like that, she could feel the answering clamour of her body. The ache of her breasts and the insistent heat coiling low inside her. Because she still desired him as intensely as she had ever done—and she didn’t have a clue how to deal with it.

  ‘Why did you bring me here, Xenon?’ she demanded. ‘I mean, really? You say it was to bring comfort to your grandmother—’

  ‘That desire was genuine,’ he interrupted coolly.

  ‘And what else? Did you picture this scene when you made your suggestion? The inevitable showdown which would result when I found out that I’d be expected to share a bed with you?’

  For a moment he didn’t answer and when he did, his words were accompanied by an odd kind of smile. ‘Yes, I pictured it,’ he answered slowly. ‘Though not at first.’

  She stared at him, her heart beating very fast. ‘Tell me.’

  He lifted his shoulders in a careless kind of shrug and once again she could see the bunching of muscle beneath his shirt. ‘I admit that when I came to your house that day I was little more than curious. I wanted to see the woman I had married and to see what life had done to her. I’d even promised myself that I would give you your divorce papers, if I were so inclined. And then you opened the door and...’

  His voice tailed off in a way which made Lexi look at him suspiciously. Because Xenon didn’t do hesitation. And neither did he screw his eyes up as if he had been presented with a problem he couldn’t quite work out. Because wasn’t he the man with the answers to everyt
hing?

  ‘And what?’ she prompted.

  ‘I realised I still wanted you,’ he said simply. ‘I wanted you in a way I’ve never wanted any other woman, not before and not since. I wanted you in my arms. I still do. I look at you, Lex, and my body aches for you. I want you so badly that I can hardly think straight. Even now.’

  She felt the dull crash of disappointment—for these were not new words. They were words he’d spoken many times when he’d been wooing her—when she’d bewitched and infuriated him by refusing to fall straight into his arms. They were expressions of high emotion he used when he was trying to get something which was just out of reach. He’d never said them when they would have meant something. He’d hadn’t spoken of wanting her when she’d been lying in that hospital bed with her womb raw and empty and the feeling that she had failed him as a wife.

  ‘We can’t,’ she said in a hollow voice.

  ‘Why not?’ he demanded, his eyes blazing like blue jewels in the dimness of the shuttered room. ‘Because you haven’t got the guts to face the fact that you want me, too? Why can’t you just come out and admit it? If not to me—then at least to yourself. That what we have isn’t over. And that it isn’t going to go away.’

  She felt the quickening stab of fear and the even fiercer stab of desire. She felt the blurring of past and present. She thought about the secrets she had locked away.

  ‘You just like a challenge,’ she declared. ‘You’re a man who has everything. Who can get anything. You just want the one thing that’s eluding you.’

  ‘This has got nothing to do with challenge,’ he said, his eyes narrowing as he met the spark of defiance in hers. He was aware of something primitive flooding through him. A tide of pure possession which he could not stop. ‘And everything to do with the realisation that you are my woman and you always have been. And nothing will ever change that.’

  The raw declaration thrilled her almost more than it appalled her. She wouldn’t have been human if it hadn’t. But Lexi knew that she couldn’t be swayed by words which were driven by nothing more than lust and a sense of ownership.