by Sara Wood
He let Lexi down to the floor. ‘I’ll ask her,’ he said with apparent calm. But his hands were clenched into fists.
Emma’s eyes flashed. She wasn’t letting her daughter go off with a mad clothes-horse and her destructive child.
‘Leon,’ she said grimly, ‘a word.’
He took one look at her and seemed to know what was in her mind.
‘Natasa is driving,’ he said quietly. ‘She’ll be responsible for Lexi.’
‘But—’
‘Trust me. Would I put her in an unsuitable situation?’
‘N-no—’
‘It’s none of her business!’ Marina snapped.
‘She’s Lexi’s m-o-t-h-e-r,’ he said, spelling the word carefully. ‘She has every right to be concerned for her daughter’s welfare.’
His amiable tone was carefully monitored for Lexi’s benefit and Emma detected steel in his eyes when he looked at his ex-wife.
Marina’s mouth looked dangerous, ready to spit venom. Emma braced herself, fearful for what Lexi might hear.
‘Do you think so? That woman killed your brother!’ Marina flung the words, fast and furious. ‘Have you forgotten—?’
As Emma gasped, Leon crossed the floor in a flash. ‘Don’t say another word,’ he murmured pleasantly. ‘Or I’ll be tempted to violence. Let me have Lex’s party dress. Go and wait in the car. She’ll be out in a few moments if she’s coming. You’ve gone too far this time, Marina. We’ll talk when you get back.’
Aghast, Emma sank into a chair and stared blankly into space. She’d been so wrapped up in her own problems that she hadn’t thought of things from his point of view—however wrong that view might be.
How could a man like a woman he thought had been responsible for his brother’s death, let alone feel fond of her? And his approval and respect was what she longed for—like Natasa. But there was no evidence to prove her innocent. So he’d always blame her. She groaned.
‘I don’t want her to go!’ Emma whispered in panic when she and Leon were alone again. Fortunately Lexi had become engrossed in playing with her doll.
‘I do,’ he said firmly. ‘There are things I have to say to you immediately—and I need time to do so.’
‘But you said I could be with Lex—’
‘I did. That was before the scene out there really developed—’
‘Scene? It was more like Armageddon!’
‘You’re exaggerating, Emma,’ he said gently.
‘Not where Lexi is concerned.’
‘It needs explaining. The party is a sleepover. Natasa will watch over her. She keeps a tight rein on her sister and Soula. And Marina doesn’t shout at Lexi. Only me.’
‘And Soula?’ Emma’s hands had tightened into fists, ready to defend her child.
‘Soula isn’t interested in anyone other than herself,’ he said bleakly.
‘Leon—’ she cried, aghast that a father should feel so badly about his child.
‘Give me time. I’ll explain.’
And he talked gently to Lexi, dangling the pretty baby-blue dress—far more attractive than Soula’s—as a lure and soon he had persuaded Lexi into its soft folds, his tone eager and excited as he spoke of the delights ahead.
But when they’d waved goodbye, his cheerful expression was wiped from his face as if a giant hand had erased it. With a hard expulsion of air from his lungs, he sat down heavily on the sofa and, through the open door at the far end of the room, he gloomily surveyed the debris floating in the pool.
Emma ignored it. He needed her more. ‘Leon, don’t worry,’ she said gently, sitting beside him and tentatively stroking his shoulder. ‘Lexi didn’t hear anything she shouldn’t, I’m positive. It…it was just me who made her cry.’
‘But she could have heard. So far she hasn’t, but…’ He sucked in a long breath. ‘And now you’re thinking that this isn’t paradise after all,’ he muttered bitterly. ‘And you’d be right.’
He looked at her, his eyes bleak and infinitely pained and in an instinctive action she took his head in her hands and laid it on her breast, enfolding him in her arms and rocking him.
The scene she’d witnessed had been appalling. Not the kind of thing to risk exposing a child to. She had ammunition, she thought sadly, to put before the courts. And it gave her no pleasure.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said, stroking his dark, shining hair. A lump came into her throat. ‘Why, if you and Marina hate the sight of each other, do you let her stay with you? You’re divorced. You don’t have to make each other’s lives hell.’
He drew away a little and heaved such a despairing sigh that she felt like cuddling him and kissing him better.
‘Leon,’ she whispered, afraid that she cared too much. ‘Tell me,’ she begged. ‘I want to help if I can.’
His arm came to rest around her shoulders and he pulled her close. ‘Hold me,’ he said simply. ‘That helps.’
With concern in every fibre of her being, she did as he asked. And soon, when his breathing had settled to a more normal rate, she ventured again.
‘Marina. Soula.’
She bit her lip, worrying that the child would be a terrible influence on little Lexi. And the rows must be distressing, if that was a sample. Her eyes widened as she remembered something.
‘When you were visiting me in prison, Marina was looking after Lexi!’ she said in horror.
‘Not exactly,’ he replied. ‘It was Natasa who took charge. But if I’d said Marina’s sister-in-law was caring for your daughter, you would have gone ballistic. Look, let’s clear the pool then get dressed and make a cup of tea,’ he said shakily. ‘And I’ll tell you everything.’
In silence he walked out and dived into the pool, lifting the objects out. Emma and he then sluiced them under the pool shower and dried some, leaving the sun to dry the others.
Then they went back inside. Alarmed by his brooding lethargy, she watched him walk slowly up the stairs to the bedroom where he’d left his clothes. His steps slowed overhead and she found herself listening out for him anxiously as she hurried to her own bedroom, showered and scrambled into a simple scoop-neck T-shirt and denim button-through skirt, dragging a quick brush through her hair.
Rushing out, she put just a little water in the kettle and grabbed a couple of mugs and two teabags, opting for speed over elegance. The tea was made by the time he came down, steam coiling up from the mugs which she’d placed on the low marble table in front of the sofa.
She watched his slow progress down the stairs and her heart missed a beat. Edible as ever in the mint green shirt and stone chinos, he had a vague, distracted air which wasn’t like him at all.
‘Sit down,’ she said taking charge. She occupied one end of the sofa and intended him to feel he could reach out for whatever comfort he needed so she patted the space beside her. ‘I want to know it all.’
When he came over it seemed natural that he should pull her against him again so they were curled up together, her head on his chest, her arm flung loosely around his waist.
‘It goes way back,’ he began softly. ‘You accused me of abandoning you when I got engaged. It wasn’t that simple.’
‘No?’
To her surprise he kissed the top of her head and she stopped breathing for a moment. He turned her till they were gazing into one another’s eyes. He smiled, and said huskily and with infinite sadness, ‘I did love you.’
Her breath knifed in sharply, in small shuddering gasps. Then she gulped.
‘Then…why did you break my heart?’ she asked, quite bewildered.
His finger traced her hairline. Her eyes flickered shut, long lashes veiling the pained blue beneath.
‘Duty,’ he replied harshly.
‘Leon—’
His mouth found hers, softened in a gentle kiss that made her moan—and then was gone.
‘We’d been out to that students’ charity run, remember? We made love in my digs and arranged to meet the next day. You were wearing a bright bl
ue shirt and jeans and you had your hair up, as you did just now when you were swimming.’
She couldn’t believe he’d remembered. ‘Then…we said goodnight,’ she said jerkily.
Leon tensed. ‘And later that same night, I had a call from my father. He was, to my surprise, in England. He’d come over with members of the Christofides family. We had been linked in business partnership with them for several generations,’ he explained. ‘Father sounded upset. We arranged a breakfast meeting for seven o’clock in his hotel.’
Emma listened to the low, tortured tones with apprehension. She had never known Leon so subdued.
‘It was an arranged marriage, wasn’t it? A dynastic affair—’
‘Not exactly,’ he replied slowly. ‘The problem was that Marina, who’s the only daughter and heiress of Anton Christofides—my father’s dearest friend—was in trouble.’
Emma’s head shifted imperceptibly so that she was looking up at him. She knew what trouble meant.
‘Pregnant?’ she asked sharply. ‘By you?’
‘No, no, Emma.’ He squeezed her reassuringly and she subsided, her heart pounding. ‘By a tourist.’ Bitterness invaded his tone.
‘What? Are you saying…Soula isn’t your child?’ she squeaked.
‘Exactly,’ he muttered. ‘Marina was only just seventeen and quite a handful. Very wilful and spoiled rotten. Her father was out of his mind. The shame…’
‘They…’ She tensed and so did he, warily watching the look of sheer horror that was spreading across her face. ‘They made you marry Marina to cover up what had happened?’ she cried in outrage. ‘And you agreed? How could you, Leon? How could you?’ She battered her fists against his chest in frustration and he caught her wrists in self-defence, wrestling with her. ‘It’s gross,’ she complained. ‘You loved me. I loved you.’ Wriggling, she tried to escape him but he wrapped his legs around her body and held her fast. ‘Let me go!’ she sobbed. ‘I can’t believe you could do such a thing. Let—me—go!’
He was silent. Hot-faced and furious, she squirmed till her T-shirt was rucked up and in danger of revealing her naked breasts beneath.
‘You’re a rat! You ruined my life for the sake of a—a spoiled female who’d—’
Leon’s mouth enclosed hers. For a few moments she fought its pressure, her head whirling at the wonderful sense of liquidity in her bones. And then she began to allow the pleasure to flow through her, helpless to resist its insistent beat.
‘Emma.’ He grated her name urgently against her lips, dropping kisses there which were so delicate and tantalising that she stupidly flung her arm around his neck and snaked her body against his. ‘You must let me explain.’
‘Wait a minute! You’re lying!’ She raged, coming to her senses. She’d remembered something. ‘It wasn’t a sudden surprise to you at all. I was there. I saw the banner, the menu—’
‘They’d been done here, on the island, as an urgent order before everyone left. They were so sure I’d agree.’
Emma saw that Leon’s eyes were still drugged with desire and she battled with her hunger and her love. Feeling like that was madness. He’d all but destroyed her with his sense of duty. Had sent her hurtling into Taki’s arms. And Taki’s ruthless domination. Two years in jail. The loss of her child.
What had she been thinking of?
Cold, her eyes shimmering with anger, she said jerkily through clenched teeth, ‘OK. Make your excuses. But make them good, Leon—because I’m close enough to ruin your chances of fatherhood for ever.’
CHAPTER NINE
JUDGING by her glittering rage, Leon thought tautly, she could well carry out her threat. He took the precaution of removing his hands from the sweet firmness of her back and waist and, in an effort to protect himself, he hauled her up a little. In doing so, she ended up straddling his pelvis.
It was a mistake. She shuddered throughout her body and as he felt her deep heat seep into him he momentarily lost the plot. She was throbbing. And so was he.
They stared, appalled, at one another. A tornado seemed to be filling his head, ripping out whatever brains and conscious thought he’d had in there, to leave just sense and sensation.
He muttered a curse and found his place in the story by sheer dogged effort of will. She would understand even if he had to force every word down her throat. No one was going to call him a rat. He’d acted as honourably as he could. A tiny little voice told him that, from Emma’s point of view, that could never be so.
‘Dammit, Emma!’ he snapped, savage in his frustration for sex and for her understanding. ‘You weren’t there. You didn’t know what it was like.’
‘Enlighten me,’ she said flaring, her chest heaving.
The movement of her untrammelled breasts, hard-tipped and hovering far too close to his hands, combined with the pooling heat between them, almost sabotaged his mind again.
Where the hell was he? He shut his eyes tightly and it came to him and when he opened them again he was only briefly diverted by the puffy little breaths she was taking through her parted lips.
She thought the worst of him. And that was infinitely unjust.
‘Do you think I didn’t argue?’ he demanded roughly. ‘That I didn’t tell them I was in love? I was reminded of my duty.’ He spat the word out, hating it and what it had done to his life. ‘Both my family and hers put pressure on me. They were depending on me—I was the only person who could help. There was no one else, I realised that immediately. Understand my dilemma!’ he demanded urgently. ‘These were people I was close to. They were turning to me to solve a desperate situation. I’ve always admired and respected Anton Christofides. He’s my godfather—and in my country that role creates a special bond between the child and godparent. He’s been like a second father to me. I care about him deeply. And there he was—this confident, assured and highly respected man—looking utterly distraught, despairing even, and begging me to save his daughter from dishonour.’
He raked his hand through his hair, bleakly remembering the chilling sense of inevitability as he’d tried to come up with any other solution than the one that had been proposed.
‘It was a nightmare,’ he muttered. ‘All the time I could hear Marina sobbing her heart out in the other room. She was virtually a child, however wilful, Emma! And then they brought her out to persuade me. She flung herself at me and pleaded with me to agree. I’ve never known anyone so hysterical. She had a razor in her hand and I wasn’t sure if she was going to slit her own wrists or mine! Do you know what that’s like? To have someone’s life depend on you? Should I have turned my back?’ he cried passionately. ‘At the very least I would have lost my father’s respect—the father I loved and honoured above all men. I would have lost my extended family, Emma, and destroyed people I loved. But, far worse than that, Marina might have carried out her threat to kill herself…’
He broke off, choking as the past heaved back in graphic clarity: the despair, anger, pity… ‘And the baby, Emma,’ he said, choking on the words. ‘She swore she’d have an abortion if I didn’t marry her.’ His mouth twisted at the horror of it. ‘I couldn’t bear that. I couldn’t be responsible for the death of her child.’
Emma was quiet now, her eyes full of sympathy. She curled up against him again, reaching up to stroke his forehead. He realised it had been creased in a worried frown. But this meant so much to him. For years he’d wanted to clear the air.
‘You could have told me all this at the time,’ she said grumpily.
‘No, that wouldn’t have worked. If I had seen you, I would never have gone through with it. When I knew I had to agree, for Marina and her unborn baby’s sake, I had to block you out of my life. It was better that you should hate me. It meant I wouldn’t be tempted to change my mind. I had to believe that I could come to love her and her child,’ he said passionately.
‘Did you?’ she asked in a small voice.
‘No—though I tried. Oh, I loved Soula at first but Marina was always difficult. And
my wife in name only.’
His eyes grew bleak. The days had been a nightmare, tiptoeing about the hysterical Marina, ducking flying objects and listening to her screeching over some trifle. A lost lipstick, a mislaid flight ticket… God! He’d never known such people existed.
‘Leon…?’ Emma touched his face, her eyes full of questions.
He blanked out the hell of those years and tried to sound dispassionate.
‘I’m the head of the family. That’s what I must do.’
‘Your duty.’ There was a pause as they both considered that. ‘But,’ she said breathily, sending shivers of air across his jaw, ‘you’re not exactly thrilled with the situation.’
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘It’s hell. So far Lexi hasn’t been affected—Marina and Soula keep to themselves most of the time and I’m merely a wallet on legs. But…God, I don’t know what to do for the best sometimes,’ he finished moodily. ‘I’ve made a mess of things. I should have left them to their own devices and not confused Soula with my house rules—but it’s hard, seeing a child being brought up with widely differing values to yours.’
‘What do you think Marina wants in life?’ she asked.
‘Money,’ he answered without hesitation.
‘Love, Leon,’ she corrected. ‘We all need love.’
He was silent, his heart in total agreement. And then said quietly, ‘I couldn’t give that to her. A roof over her head and financial security, yes, courtesy, sympathy, time…but not love.’
Emma saw the link. She’d had none to give to Taki, because she’d squandered it on Leon. And the marriage had foundered.
‘I think you should let go,’ she mused. ‘All the time you’re around, it’s not giving Marina a chance to strike out and find her soul mate. It isn’t any of your business how she brings up her child, and you seem to be the catalyst for their anger. As far as prospective boyfriends for Marina are concerned, you’d put anyone off,’ she said bluntly, omitting to explain that men would feel intimidated because he was so charismatic.
‘That’s exactly what I’ve decided. I’m talking to Marina in the morning. I’m going to suggest she talks to her father about living with him again. She’s visited him a couple of times and I think he and his new wife are happier to have her around, especially if Natasa lives there too. Marina’s calmer when Natasa is around. I’ll see what they all think. Trouble is, I’d lose a housekeeper.’ He rubbed his chin reflectively. ‘The caretaker’s wife might help out there. Donika’s working on the land at the moment. She’s always asking me to find her an indoor job. I’ll ask her. I’m sure she’d jump at the chance.’
