The Greek's Marriage Bargain

by Sharon Kendrick

  But his blue eyes were cold and he made a rather ostentatious show of glancing at his wristwatch. ‘You have half an hour before I’m due at a reception downtown,’ he said. ‘So you’d better get a move on.’

  Suddenly she didn’t know where to begin. She wondered if she’d pushed him too far.

  ‘Jason came to see me.’

  ‘I thought he might once the harvest was over.’

  She sucked in her lips. ‘He told me what happened.’

  ‘Anything in particular?’ he enquired unhelpfully. ‘How good the grape yield was? How he seems to have fallen for one of the local women?’

  ‘He told me that he didn’t come to you, asking for your help,’ she whispered. ‘That you went and found him out and offered it and I was wondering...’ She cleared her throat. ‘I was wondering just why you did that.’

  But if she was hoping for a softening of his obdurate features, she was in for a disappointment because the only reaction she got was the contemptuous curve of his lips.

  ‘I think we both know exactly why I did it, Lexi. I wanted a legitimate way back into your life. I wanted to give our relationship one last go. Which I did. And I found out what I needed to know. It’s over. We’re over—we both know that. So why are you here?’

  She wanted to curl up and die because the expression in his eyes was so cold. She’d never seen him look like that before and she felt the chill whisper of foreboding.

  ‘Because...’ She sucked in a deep breath. ‘Because finding that out...discovering that it wasn’t just some random act that brought you back into my life, well, that made a difference. It made me realise how important our marriage was to you. It made me examine what I was doing. It made me realise what I was about to throw away.’

  He shook his dark head, tugging at his black bow tie as if he was impatient to be away. ‘You’re just focusing on a detail,’ he said. ‘Not on what is important. And what’s important is that you don’t want to make a life with me on any terms—you told me that yourself. But it’s okay. I’ll survive, Lex. We’ll both survive.’

  ‘But I don’t know if I will.’ Her voice sounded as light as a feather. ‘Because surviving doesn’t sound like a good way to live. Not when I consider the alternative. I meant it when I said that I love you, Xenon—I’ve never really stopped, even though I’ve tried hard enough. If you want the truth—my life has been...well, awful without you. And if you’re prepared—I mean, really prepared—to accept a marriage without children, then you only have to say the word. Just say the word, my darling, and I’ll be back in your arms so quick you won’t even have time to blink.’

  His mouth tightened as he looked at her and she was aware of the ice which had hardened his cobalt eyes. ‘Get out,’ he said and turned his back on her as if he found the view outside the window infinitely more alluring.

  Lexi stared in disbelief at the forbidding set of his shoulders, at the coiled tension in his tuxedoed body, which was contrasted against the busy rush of Wilshire Boulevard.

  ‘You don’t mean that,’ she whispered, her heart pounding with fear.

  ‘Oh, but I do,’ he said grimly. ‘You think I’m your puppet, do you, Lex? That if you keep me dangling long enough I’ll dance exactly to your tune? Well, you had your chance and you blew it. Sorry.’

  Lexi felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes. Hot, salty tears which mocked her and told her that she’d left it too late. Xenon didn’t want her any more and it really was over. For a split second she thought about turning and fleeing from the room and this terrible pain which was tearing at her heart. But she was through with running away and, besides, something about the way he spoke jarred. And not just in the way he spoke, but in the way he was holding himself, with his fists clenched and his shoulders now hunched. He looked like a man who was doing battle. Who was trying to fight something in himself.

  She swallowed down the tears and tried to keep her voice steady. ‘I love you,’ she said. ‘And that’s the only thing which seems to make sense right now.’ She saw him tense and now she couldn’t seem to stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. ‘I love you and I will never stop loving you, but I will go if you want me to.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘But only if you turn around and tell me to my face.’

  For a moment she thought he was just going to ignore her request and that she would be left standing there, like a fool. Then he gave a small snarl, like a wounded animal, and when he turned around she could see that his face was ravaged with pain.

  He stared at her and she waited. Waited for him to say the words she prayed wouldn’t come. But the words he said were the ones she was least expecting.

  ‘You’re crying,’ he observed.

  The stifled tears now became ugly gulps. ‘Of course I’m crying!’

  ‘But you never cry, Lex,’ he said and she could hear the note of surprise in his voice.

  No, she never cried. Not all through those long nights when she’d lain awake to protect Jason and Jake, flinching with terror when she heard the drunks crashing around in the corridors outside their hostel room. Nor even during those times when she’d been coping with the miscarriages, when her dreams had been shattered. She’d been too scared to cry, for fear that once she started she might never stop.

  ‘What else am I going to do, when the man I love doesn’t want me?’

  Xenon’s jaw tightened. He saw how tired her eyes looked, magnified behind her glasses. He saw the tracks of her tears, the creased jeans and a T-shirt which looked as if it had been slept in. And in that moment he loved her so completely and so powerfully that it took his breath away.

  ‘Oh, but he does,’ he said softly. ‘He wants you very much, but only if you promise never to leave him again, because that he really couldn’t bear.’

  There was a moment before she said anything because her throat was so choked with emotion that she wondered if she’d ever be able to speak again. And when she did, the words burst from her lips, like water from a dam—strong and straight and true. ‘Oh, Xenon, I’ll never leave you. Never, never, never.’ There was a pause as she saw the blue glitter of his own tears. ‘Because I love you. Oh, I love you so much.’

  ‘Then you’d better come right over here and let me kiss you,’ he said unsteadily. ‘Because I don’t think I can wait much longer.’

  Her legs felt shaky. It was like walking in shoes a size too small, but somehow Lexi made it across the sumptuous carpet and into Xenon’s arms, her body shaking. He pulled a handkerchief from his suit jacket and removed her glasses, tenderly wiping her face dry before replacing them.

  And then he started to kiss her. He kissed her until she was dizzy with longing and when he let her go she was so happy that she wanted to dance around the fancy suite. But then she noticed that he was glancing at his watch and that he was frowning.

  ‘You know, I really do have to be downtown very soon,’ he said. ‘If it was any other engagement, I’d break it—but this film means a lot of things to a lot of people and I want to put a very positive image of Greece out there. But if you want me to stay—’

  ‘Go,’ she said, lifting her hand to his cheek and stroking it. ‘I can wait here until you get back.’

  ‘Well, you can. Or you could ride across town with me to where a great deal of the world’s press will be assembled, and we could give them a picture which will tell the world that we are very definitely back together. Because I have this insane and very uncharacteristic desire to want to shout it from the rooftops.’

  Lexi looked down at her crumpled jeans and T-shirt, before lifting her gaze to the pristine appearance of his tuxedo. ‘You mean, like this?’ she questioned doubtfully.

  He smiled. ‘I mean exactly like that.’

  ‘When every other woman there will be dripping in sequins and diamonds?’

 
‘Who cares? There’s no woman to compare with you—no matter what you wear.’

  ‘Oh, Xenon. You do say the most gorgeous things.’

  ‘Well, that’s only because you are the most gorgeous thing.’ He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘So come along, Mrs Kanellis. Because the sooner I take you out, the sooner I can get you home.’

  EPILOGUE

  THE SUNLIGHT FELT warm on his eyelids and her thigh felt cool against his. Lazily, Xenon stretched his arms above his head and yawned.

  ‘So you’re awake at last.’

  Lexi’s soft words filtered through the air towards him, like the breeze which floated in from the park outside. The uncharacteristically hot, English summer they’d been having meant that most nights they slept with the windows wide open. Sometimes Xenon even woke up imagining he was back in Greece!

  He opened his eyes to find Lexi leaning over him and her long hair tickled his chest as she reached over to retrieve her glasses.

  ‘Actually, I’ve been awake for a while,’ he murmured, sliding his hand around her waist and pulling her close, so that he could breathe in her particular scent of violets and vanilla. ‘Enjoying this rare lie-in and just counting up all my blessings.’

  ‘Oh?’ Lexi snuggled closer. ‘And what blessings might they be?’

  ‘You know perfectly well what they are,’ he teased. ‘Because you’re my perfect wife who gives me a perfect life.’

  She touched her fingertips to his jaw and began to stroke reflectively at the dark, new growth there. ‘I’m not perfect, Xenon.’

  ‘Yes, you are. Perfect for me.’

  Lexi hugged him very tightly as she kissed his bare chest, brushing her lips over the whorls of dark hair there and letting her tongue trace tiny patterns over the hard, salty flesh. Sometimes this all felt so good that she almost had to pinch herself to believe it was happening. But it was. And Xenon had been right all along. Two people who loved one another could live a contented and fulfilled life with or without children. Her inability to carry a child had not damaged their relationship. On the contrary, the heartache they had suffered had ended up bringing them closer together.

  And then something had happened which had changed their lives completely, in a way they could never have foreseen. Lexi had been watching a TV programme about the shortage of foster parents and had been deeply affected by the plight of some of the children featured. It hadn’t taken much for her to persuade Xenon to donate a significant amount of money to The Children’s Society, nor for her to become involved on a volunteer basis. But neither of them expected to be so enchanted by a nine-month-old baby who’d been orphaned in a car crash, nor for their offer of a temporary home to be transformed into the opportunity to adopt her permanently.

  There was, as Xenon said afterwards, really no decision to make, for by that time they had fallen hopelessly in love with the little girl and she with them. They named her Sofia after his beloved grandmother.

  Now almost four, Sofia was almost exactly the same age as their niece, Ianthe, and the reason for the rare lie-in was because Xenon’s sister had brought her family over for a week’s holiday. Kyra and Nikola had taken Sofia and her cousin for a walk in Regent’s Park and afterwards they were having a trip to the famous zoo.

  ‘Which leaves me all morning to make slow and delicious love to you,’ Xenon murmured.

  He drifted his mouth over her breast and she bit her lip in delighted response. Skin touched skin. Gasps punctured the air. Lexi lifted her hips to meet him, a shaft of intense pleasure coursing through her as he filled her completely.

  Afterwards she kissed him, long and lazy kisses. ‘What did I ever do to deserve you?’ she said, her words muffled by the pressure of his lips.

  ‘That’s my question.’ His voice was sleepy. ‘And you already know the answer. Don’t analyse. Just be grateful.’

  And she was. Oh, she was.

  Despite the joys and commitment of motherhood, she had continued to make her quirky jewellery on a part-time basis and soon it began to feature in magazines. Before long she was having to take on two workers to help craft Gibson Gems. Anyone who was anyone had a pair of her dangly earrings, or one of her distinctively chunky bangles. Her client base included three members of the English royal family, as well as most of Hollywood. But Lexi never forgot the people of Devon who’d been so kind to her when she’d been starting out, and every year she travelled down to sell her jewellery at the village’s Christmas fayre.

  Jason married his Greek girlfriend and Xenon went on to appoint him CEO of the Kanellis wine industry. Within the year, Lexi’s other brother, Jake, flew from Australia to join the company, which meant that Lexi could see much more of them. Both brothers became fluent in Greek and, after much nagging, persuaded Lexi to take lessons. She didn’t find it easy but she was determined—and she loved the look of shock on her husband’s face the first time she answered him fluently in his mother tongue.

  After much persuasion on Xenon’s part—because he seemed to be determined to make a statement to the world—Lexi agreed to a renewal of their wedding vows, in a ceremony which took place in the beautiful Greek cathedral in Bayswater, London. Afterwards they held a huge party held in the ballroom at the Granchester Hotel. Security was tight and the place was mobbed because Roxy and Justina—the other two Lollipops—were on the guest list. It was unexpectedly moving to see her ex-bandmates again and there had been quite a few tears when all three women had taken part in a group hug while ‘Come Right Back’ played over the sound system.

  Xenon had bought her a new wedding ring for the occasion, though—as Lexi had pointed out—she was probably the only woman in the world who owned three wedding rings, all given to her by the same man.

  ‘Ah, but this time it’s different, moli mou,’ he had murmured. ‘This time it’s for ever.’

  Their favourite photo was not of that day, nor indeed any of those taken on their original wedding day. It was an image captured the night when Lexi had flown to Hollywood to tell Xenon how much she loved him and he’d taken her downtown, to a fancy reception to mark his Oscar-winning film.

  There was Xenon, tall and magnificent in an immaculate tuxedo, with Lexi beside him in jeans and a T-shirt still crumpled from her long, transatlantic flight.

  But you didn’t really notice the discrepancy in what they were wearing, or the fact that Lexi’s hair looked as if it could have done with a good brushing. All you saw was the light which shone from their eyes, which even the most cynical observers had remarked was brighter than all the flashes from the assembled cameras.

  That light was love.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A FAÇADE TO SHATTER by Lynn Raye Harris.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  ZACH SCOTT DIDN’T do parties. Not anymore.

  Once, he’d been the life of the party. But everything had changed a little over a year ago. Zach shoved his hands into his tuxedo trouser pockets and frowned. He’d thought coming to Sicily with a friend, in order to attend a wedding, would be an easy thing to do. T
here’d been no wedding, it had turned out, but the reception was taking place anyway. And he stood on the edge of the ballroom, wondering where Taylor Carmichael had got to. Wondering if he could slip away and text his regrets to her.

  His head was pounding after a rough night. He’d been dreaming again. Dreaming of guns and explosions and planes plummeting from the sky.

  There was nothing like a fight for survival to rearrange a man’s priorities. Since his plane had been shot down in enemy territory, the kinds of things he’d once done—fund-raisers, public appearances, speeches, political dinners—were now a kind of torture he’d prefer to live without.

  Except it was more impossible to get out of those things now than ever before. Not only was he Zachariah James Scott IV, son of an eminent United States senator and heir to a pharmaceuticals fortune, he was also a returning military hero.

  Zach’s frown deepened.

  Since his rescue—in which every single marine sent to extract him had perished—he’d been in demand as a sort of all-American poster boy. The media couldn’t get enough of him, and he knew a big part of that was his father’s continual use of his story in his public appearances.

  Zachariah J. Scott III wasn’t about to let the story die. Not when it could do him a world of political good.

  His son had done his duty when he could have chosen an easier path. His son had chosen to serve his country instead of himself. It was true that Zach could have sat on the Scott Pharmaceuticals board and moved mountains of money instead of flying jets into a war zone. But the jets were a part of him.

  Or had been a part of him until the crash had left him with crushing, unpredictable headaches that made it too dangerous to fly.