by Lynne Graham
‘Into Porto Cervo to shop,’ Tabby admitted. ‘I’m looking for a birthday present.’
‘There’s some great jewellery boutiques...try the Piazzetta delle Chiacchere,’ Melinda advised helpfully.
Tabby nodded, feeling guilty about how much she disliked the curvaceous blonde who would, by the end of the week, mercifully be gone from the household to take up her new appointment. Since Teresa’s arrival and increasing involvement with Amber, Melinda seemed to spend a lot of time hovering unnecessarily and watching their comings and goings. Once, Tabby had even suspected that the blonde was eavesdropping on her and Acheron. No doubt the nanny had now registered that their detached marriage had developed into something closer. Or was that only her own wishful thinking at work? Tabby wondered heavily.
Acheron had been gone only one day and she felt bereft. That was a pretty poor show for a strong, independent woman, she conceded shamefacedly. She missed him so much, and her outlook wasn’t improved by her recollection of his unusual behaviour on that last night they had spent together. He had been silent and moody, extraordinarily uninvolved when she had made love to him, saying nothing, doing nothing, in fact, acting like a right—
‘Miss Barnes?’ Dmitri appeared in the doorway. ‘Could I have a word with you?’
‘Right now?’ Melinda prompted with a sparkling smile that seemed wasted on the granite-faced older man.
‘Now would be a good time,’ Dmitri responded evenly.
Tabby left Teresa in charge of Amber, having decided that dragging the little girl out to trail round the shops during the hottest part of the day would be unwise. The message was still on the mirror when she walked past into the bathroom to renew her lipstick and it made her shiver. He’s using you. Well, as far as their marriage was concerned they were using each other, she told herself doggedly. Although things had changed drastically once they began sharing a bed in reality. Was Acheron only sleeping with her because that intimacy added to the illusion of their having a normal marriage? After all, if he was seen out by the paparazzi with another woman while he was supposed to be a happily married new husband, it wouldn’t look good. So, was she being used on that basis? But how could she call it using when she was in love with him and wanted him to make love to her? Did that make her a silly lovelorn fool? Or was she taking equal advantage of him?
From the instant Dmitri phoned him and broke the news, Acheron hadn’t been able to stay still or think with his usual logic. Gripped by insane impatience and mounting concern, he just wanted to get back to Sardinia and stand watch over Tabby and Amber. Unfortunately for him, getting a last-minute slot for the jet to take off in Athens and jumping the queue took longer than he had envisaged. He cursed the fact that he had left them behind in the first place, cursed his conviction that he should protect Tabby at all costs from what Kasma might do next.
Why had he chosen to leave Tabby when he actually wanted to be with her? What did that say about him? That he couldn’t recognise his own emotions and was prone to running away from what he couldn’t understand? Feelings had never been so intense for him before and he had been torn between a kind of intoxication at the fire of them and a kind of panic at knowing he was out of control. He had never allowed that to happen to him before but he’d had no choice. He had jumped on the panic as an excuse and now he was paying the price. Thee mou, if anything was to happen to them, he brooded darkly, his fists clenching aggressively just as his pilot signalled him from across the VIP lounge that they were good to go.
* * *
‘I really do believe that your husband would prefer you to stay in today,’ Dmitri informed Tabby quietly.
Unfortunately, Tabby was in no mood to be grounded like a child and marvelled that Acheron could even think he could give out orders that way through Dmitri, particularly when he had taken off himself at such short notice. What was it? Why was he trying to keep her on the home front? Some sort of control issue on his part? And poor Dmitri was embarrassed to have to say such a thing to her; she could see it in the older man.
‘I’m sorry but it’s really important that I go out today,’ she said levelly. ‘I have something I have to buy.’
‘Then I’ll accompany you and I’ll drive, Mrs Dimitrakos,’ Dmitri responded with determination.
For the sake of peace, Tabby nodded agreement but knew she was going to have to have a discussion with Acheron with regard to the intense security presence he maintained in their lives. Was it really necessary that they be guarded and watched over every place they went? Was there a genuine risk of their being robbed or kidnapped? Was there some kind of specific threat out against Acheron?
‘You’ll be very bored,’ she warned Dmitri as she settled into the passenger seat of the SUV and watched another car full of security men follow them out of the entrance to the beach house with wry acceptance.
‘It’s not a problem. I’m used to going shopping with my wife,’ Dmitri told her calmly. ‘She can stare at one shop window for ten minutes before she’s satisfied she’s seen everything.’
Tabby knew she would be even more of a drag because she didn’t even know what she was planning to buy and was hoping to be inspired by something she saw. What did you buy for the man who had everything? The massive monthly allowance he had awarded her, however, had piled up in her bank account and thanks to his generosity she had got to spend very little of it, so she had plenty to spend.
Dmitri following behind her, Tabby prowled through the exclusive boutiques and jewellery outlets. Acheron wasn’t the sort of guy who wore jewellery. He wore a wedding ring and occasionally cuff links and that was all. But short of copping out by buying him another silk tie when he already had a rail of them, what was she to give him for his thirty-first birthday? Mulling over that thorny issue, she saw the pen. Actually the pen was the only possible description for a pen that bore a world-famous designer label. It would cost a fortune, she reckoned. But equally fast she recalled the pen his mother had bought him and decided that the cost was less important than what it meant, although why she was so keen to buy a significant gift for a man who couldn’t even be bothered to phone her, she couldn’t explain. Maybe it was the desolate thought that the pen might survive with him a lot longer than their marriage and act as a reminder of what they had once shared. Depressing, much? She scolded herself impatiently for her downbeat thoughts.
She bought the pen and arranged for it to be inscribed with his name and the date. She had to make use of the platinum credit card he had given her to make the purchase and, while trying to act as if she spent such sums all the time, she was secretly horrified at spending so much money and worried that Acheron would think she had gone mad. Pale and shaken after that sobering experience, she told Dmitri that she wanted to go for a coffee. He led the way to an outdoor café and insisted on choosing a seat a couple of tables away from her.
She had just bought the most expensive pen in the history of the world, she reflected guiltily, and when he saw the bill he might well freak out and regret telling her that her card had no upper limit. She was sipping her latte slowly, savouring the caffeine, when a shadow fell across her table.
Kasma settled her long elegant body down smoothly into the seat opposite. ‘You’ve been so unavailable you’ve forced me into all this cloak and dagger stuff,’ she complained.
Totally taken aback by the other woman’s appearance, Tabby stared at the beautiful brunette with wide, questioning eyes. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
‘You’re here, Ash is here...where else would I be?’ Kasma asked, rolling big dark eyes in apparent disbelief at the question. ‘I refuse to believe that you’re so stupid that you can’t accept that Ash belongs with me.’
‘Miss Philippides...’ Dmitri broke into the conversation, standing straight and tall beside Kasma’s chair. ‘Please leave—’
Kasma slung him a defiant glance. ‘We’
re in a public place and I can go where I please on this island. We’re not in Greece now.’
‘May I suggest then that we leave, Mrs Dimitrakos?’ Dmitri continued, regarding Tabby expectantly.
Tabby breathed in deep. ‘When I’ve finished my coffee,’ she murmured, determined to hear what Kasma had to say since she sure as heck wasn’t going to receive any information from Acheron.
Grim-faced, Dmitri retreated to an even closer table.
‘I believe in getting straight down to business,’ Kasma informed her. ‘How much money do you want to walk out on this absurd marriage?’
Dumbstruck, Tabby stared at the older woman. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘Oh, I’m always serious when it comes to Ash. We belong together and he would have married me, not you, had my stepfather not foolishly tried to force the issue in his will,’ Kasma contended confidently. ‘You must know how proud Ash is.’
‘Staying here, entering into this dialogue is a very bad idea, Mrs Dimitrakos,’ Dmitri leant closer to spell out.
Kasma shot a vicious burst of Greek at the older man and the look on her face was downright scary. With the sudden suspicion that Dmitri’s advice to retreat from the scene might well be the most sensible move, Tabby lifted her bag, settled some money on the table for the bill and stood up. Before she walked away, however, she had something to say. ‘No matter how much money you offered me I wouldn’t walk out on Acheron,’ she murmured tautly. ‘I love him.’
‘Not as much as I love him, you bitch!’ Kasma launched at her in a seething shout of fury that shook Tabby rigid.
Cupping her elbow firmly in his hand, Dmitri walked her away from the café at a fast pace. ‘Kasma Philippides is a dangerously unstable woman. Your husband has a restraining order out against her on Greek soil and she’s not allowed to approach him or make a nuisance of herself there. You can’t talk to her. You can’t reason with her. We’ve learned that the hard way.’
‘Ash should’ve warned me. If he’d warned me, I would’ve walked away immediately,’ Tabby protested defensively. ‘I could see that she was obsessed with him at the wedding but I didn’t understand how much of a problem she was in his life.’
‘He wasn’t expecting her to follow you here. He had no idea she was on the island. By the way, he’s flying back as we speak.’
Relief swept Tabby. He would finally have to tell her the whole story. But he had had to take out a legal restraining order to keep Kasma at a distance? What had driven him to take his father’s stepdaughter to court? That must have taken some nerve, particularly while his father was still alive. Had Kasma been acting like some sort of psycho stalker?
They were driving along the coast road when she noticed that Dmitri kept on looking worriedly in the driving mirror. Tabby glanced over her shoulder to notice the bright red sports car behind them. The driver had long dark hair just like Kasma’s.
‘She’s following us,’ Dmitri told her flatly. ‘Make sure your belt is safely fastened. I may have to take evasive manoeuvres but I’ve already alerted the police.’
‘Evasive manoeuvres?’ Tabby gasped when there was a sudden jolt at the rear of the car. ‘She’s trying to ram us? Is she crazy in that tiny little car?’
Dmitri didn’t answer. His concentration was on the road because he had speeded up. Tabby’s heart was beating very, very fast as she watched in the mirror as the red car tried to catch up with them again. They were zooming round corners so fast that Tabby felt dizzy and she was still watching Kasma’s car when it veered across the road into the path of another car travelling the other way.
‘Oh, my word, she’s crashed...hit someone else!’
Dmitri jammed on the brakes and rammed into Reverse to turn and drive back. He leapt out of the SUV. The team from the other security car were already attending to the victims of the crash, carrying the passenger to the verge, the driver, still conscious, stumbling after them. The red sports car had hit a wall and demolished part of it. Tabby slowly climbed out, her tummy heaving as she approached the scene of frantic activity. Dmitri was talking fast on his phone as he approached her. ‘Stay in the car, Mrs Dimitrakos. You don’t need to see this. Miss Philippides is dead.’
‘Dead?’ Tabby was stunned, barely able to credit that the woman who had been speaking to her only minutes earlier could have lost her life.
‘She wasn’t wearing a belt—she was thrown from the car.’
‘And the people who were in the other car?’ Tabby asked.
‘Very lucky to be alive. The passenger has a head wound and the driver has a leg injury.’
Tabby nodded and got back slowly into the SUV, feeling oddly distanced from everything happening around her. That sensation, which she only vaguely recognised as shock, was still lingering when she gave a brief statement at the police station with a lawyer sitting in, volunteering information she couldn’t understand in the local language. That completed, she was stowed in a waiting room with a cup of coffee until Acheron strode through the door. He stalked across the room, emanating stormy tension, and raised her out of her seat with two anxious hands.
‘You are all right? Dmitri swore you were unhurt but I was afraid to believe him,’ Acheron grated half under his breath, his lean, darkly handsome features taut and granite hard as he scanned her carefully from head to toe.
‘Well, I was fine until you made me spill my coffee,’ she responded unevenly, setting the mug down and rubbing ineffectually at the splashes now adorning her pale pink top. ‘Are we free to leave?’
‘Yes, I’ve made a statement. Thee mou,’ Acheron murmured fiercely. ‘Kasma had a knife in her bag!’
‘A knife?’ Tabby repeated in horror.
‘But for Dmitri’s presence she might have attacked you!’ Acheron lifted a not quite steady hand and raked long brown fingers through his luxuriant black hair. ‘I was so scared when I heard she’d come here, I felt sick,’ he confided thickly.
‘She’s dead,’ Tabby reminded him in an undertone.
Acheron released his pent-up breath and said heavily, ‘Her brother, Simeon, is on his way to make the funeral arrangements. He’s a decent man. I hope you don’t mind but I’ve asked him to stay with us.’
‘Of course, I don’t mind. No matter what’s happened, your father’s family deserve your consideration and respect.’
‘Melinda’s flying back to London,’ Acheron volunteered. ‘She was responsible for the messages on the mirror.’
‘Messages...there was more than one?’ Tabby queried in consternation.
Acheron told her about the message he had seen at the villa in Tuscany and how Dmitri had instantly worked out that Melinda had to be the perpetrator when the nanny did it a second time. Confronted that same morning after breakfast by Dmitri, Melinda had confessed that Kasma had approached her in London and had offered her a lot of money to leave the messages and to spy on Acheron while keeping Kasma up to date with information on where they were staying. It was Melinda who had warned Dmitri that Kasma was actually on the island, news that had alarmed Acheron into making an immediate return.
The fountain of questions concerning Kasma that had disturbed Tabby earlier in the day was, by that stage, returning fast, but the haunted look in Acheron’s lustrous dark eyes and the bleak set of his bronzed face silenced her. He escorted her out to a car, and she slid in, appreciating the air-conditioned cool on her overheated skin.
‘I have a lot to explain,’ Acheron acknowledged flatly and then he closed his hand over hers.
In a reflexive movement, Tabby rejected the contact and folded her hands together on her lap. ‘After the way you behaved that last night and the fact that you haven’t been in touch since, I think holding hands would be a bit of a joke,’ she said bluntly. ‘You don’t need to pretend things you don’t feel to pacify or comfort me. As you noted, I’m unhurt. It
’s been a horrible day but I’ll get over it without leaning on you.’
‘Maybe I want you to lean on me.’
Tabby raised a brow, unimpressed by that unlikely suggestion. ‘I’d prefer to fall over and pick myself up. I’ve been doing it all my life and I’ve managed just fine.’
Acheron compressed his wide, sensual mouth. ‘I should have explained about her weeks ago but the subject of Kasma rouses a lot of bad memories...and reactions,’ he admitted with curt reluctance.
‘Kasma’s the reason you thought someone might have pushed me down the stairs at the villa,’ Tabby grasped finally.
‘Maybe she made me a little paranoid but she did destroy my relationship with my father before he died.’
‘And that’s why he wrote that crazy will,’ Tabby guessed.
‘I told you that I only met my father’s family about eighteen months ago. I only agreed in the first place because it seemed to mean so much to him. What I didn’t mention before is that the week before that dinner engagement took place at his home, I met Kasma without knowing I was meeting Kasma,’ he told her grittily.
Tabby frowned. ‘Without knowing it was her?’ she echoed. ‘How? I mean, why?’
‘I doubt if I could ever adequately explain why from Kasma’s point of view. She introduced herself to me as Ariadne. She certainly knew who I was,’ he delivered with perceptible bitterness. ‘I was in Paris on a stopover between flights and she was staying in the same hotel. I’ve never believed that was a coincidence. I believe I was set up. I was alone. I was bored. She targeted me and I fell for it...and you could not begin to understand how deeply I regret taking the bait.’
Tabby was studying him with confused eyes. ‘The bait?’
‘I had a tacky one-night stand with her,’ Acheron ground out grudgingly, dark colour accentuating his spectacular cheekbones, his jaw line clenching hard on the admission. ‘A couple of stolen hours from a busy schedule of work and travel. I’m being honest here—it meant nothing more to me. Although I treated her with respect I never pretended at any stage that I wanted to see her again.’
