by Anne Mather
Demetri was bitter. ‘Then you have a bloody funny way of showing it.’ He shook his head. ‘Why don’t you tell me what this is all about and get it over with?’ He glanced at the slim gold watch circling his narrow wrist. ‘I’ve got a dinner engagement in exactly forty minutes.’
‘Ianthe came to see me.’
Jane hadn’t intended to be so direct, but it was too late now. He was staring at her with hard, disbelieving eyes and she wondered painfully if the Greek girl’s confession had come too late, also.
‘Apokliete!’ he muttered at last. No way!
‘It’s true.’ Jane gazed at him despairingly. ‘She—she came to the gallery. She told me that you and Ariadne were no longer together.’
‘Ariadne and I have not been together, as you put it, since I came to your apartment over three months ago,’ he told her coldly. ‘That should hardly be news to you.’
Jane was confused. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She frowned. ‘When I arrived in Kalithi, Ariadne let me think—’
‘That she and I were sleeping together?’ Demetri was bitter. ‘And you, of course, believed her.’ He spread his arm dramatically. ‘My wife,’ he said contemptuously, ‘who still thinks I’ll sleep with any woman who’ll have me.’ He downed another mouthful of his whisky. ‘And you say you care about me. Forgive me if I say that’s bloody pathetic!’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE arrival of Mrs Sawyer with Jane’s tea gave Demetri a few minutes to compose himself. He was tempted to pour himself another drink, but the knowledge that getting drunk—again—wouldn’t do him any favours made him set down his empty glass with a heavy thunk.
Jane, meanwhile, had accepted the housekeeper’s suggestion and seated herself near the table where Freda had put the tray. But he noticed she made no attempt to drink the tea the woman had poured for her and Freda, after assuring herself that they had everything they needed, took it upon herself to close the doors as she left the room.
Realising he had to make some attempt to rescue the situation, Demetri forced himself to take the chair opposite his wife. Then, balled fists digging into his spread thighs, he said tersely, ‘I suppose Ianthe told you she’d flown to England with Theo Vasilis and myself?’
Jane nodded. ‘Yes.’
And that would be another strike against him, Demetri reflected malevolently. Had she really come here to challenge him again about something that had never happened?
He scowled. It didn’t help that she was looking particularly lovely this evening. There was a glow about her, somehow, an inner warmth that made him curse the mess he’d made of both their lives. He’d never stopped wanting her, never stopped loving her. Even when he’d told himself he hated her, he’d known it was just his own pitiable need that was driving him on.
Her hair was longer, he noticed, his eyes devouring every item of her appearance. One strand curled invitingly over the shoulder of her woollen jacket; he wished she’d take the jacket off. He was a fool, he knew, but he wanted to see her breasts. They’d always been such a giveaway of the way she was really feeling.
Jane was aware that Demetri’s eyes had slipped down her body and she felt the heat of his dark gaze like a fire against her skin. He’d always had this effect on her and never more so than tonight. Knowing what she did about him, knowing he had never lied to her, knowing what a stupid fool she’d been.
‘You say Ianthe came to the gallery,’ he prompted at last and she nodded again.
‘That’s right.’ Then, rather than get to the point of her visit, she launched into an explanation of what had happened. ‘It was just as well she did,’ she said fervently. ‘Alex was there—Alex Hunter, that is—and he was being a nuisance.’
Demetri’s eyes narrowed. ‘A nuisance? How?’
She should have been warned by the comparative mildness of his tone, but Jane was so relieved that he was talking civilly to her that she went on. ‘Oh—in the usual way,’ she said ruefully. ‘He—well, he wouldn’t accept the fact that I didn’t want to see him again. Socially, I mean. If—if Ianthe hadn’t come into the gallery as she did—’
‘You are saying this man—this cur—molested you?’ Demetri swore, springing to his feet with a violent oath of frustration. ‘I will find him and I will kill him! How dare he lay a hand on my wife? I will make him wish he had never been born!’
Jane couldn’t sit still with him towering over her. ‘Am I still your wife, Demetri?’ she whispered, rising to face him, and he looked at her with dark, avenging eyes.
‘For the present,’ he muttered harshly, subduing the urge he had to touch her. ‘In any case, that is not important. This man, Hunter, will learn that no one assaults a member of my family and gets away with it.’
‘He didn’t—assault me, Demetri.’ She sighed. ‘He frightened me, that’s all.’
‘Aliti!’ Bastard! Demetri swore again, raking restless fingers through his hair. ‘So this time I must be grateful to Ianthe for her intervention, no?’
‘Yes.’
‘Ironic, is it not?’
‘Perhaps.’ Jane swallowed and gestured towards the sofa. ‘Could we sit down again? I’ve got something to tell you.’
‘And you think perhaps it will rob me of the strength to stand on my own two feet?’
‘No…’
‘Because I warn you, Jane, if you’ve come here to spread more of Ianthe’s poison—’
‘I haven’t!’ She put a nervous hand on his arm, feeling the muscles clench beneath her fingers. ‘Please, Demetri, you have to listen to me.’
Demetri looked down at the hand resting on his arm and wondered how that tentative touch could spread an electric charge throughout his body. The desire to touch her in return, to touch her and taste her and feel that slim, lissom body yielding to the pressure of his caused an actual constriction in his chest. His pulse was racing, his heartbeat quickening in concert with his rising blood pressure. Theos, how the hell was he going to compose himself sufficiently to attend a business dinner in the Souvakis boardroom in less than half an hour, when all he could think about was taking her to bed?
‘All right,’ he said at last through clenched teeth, and she withdrew her hand and subsided onto the sofa again.
He lowered himself into the seat beside her, resisting the urge to crowd her. Even so, when she moved, her thigh was disturbingly close to his, and once again he was tempted to remind her of all they had once been to one another.
For her part, Jane was intensely aware of him watching her. His gaze fairly burned her skin and she permitted herself to run a reassuring hand over her stomach before going on.
She’d had her first scan a few days ago and seeing the baby’s image on the monitor had brought a tight lump to her throat. Her mother had been with her and she’d been a great support, but Jane had wished Demetri could have been there. It was his baby, just as much as it was hers, and didn’t he deserve to know he was going to be a father? But at that time, she’d believed he and Ariadne were planning their own future and how could she ruin his life for a second time?
‘Well?’
Demetri was getting impatient and Jane leaned forward and took a nervous gulp of the cooling cup of tea. Then, composing herself, she said, ‘I expect you’re wondering what I could possibly have to say that would interest you?’
Demetri’s mouth turned down. ‘You think?’ he queried sardonically. ‘I thought you might be going to commiserate with me for not being able to sustain a lasting relationship, but I suppose that would be—how do you say?—pushing it, no?’
Jane sighed. ‘Don’t be sarcastic!’
Demetri’s expression darkened. ‘Then tell me how I’m supposed to be,’ he snapped. ‘Or is this just another game of provocation?’
‘It’s not a game.’ Jane played with the belt of her jacket. ‘I—still haven’t told you why Ianthe came to see me.’
Demetri stiffened. ‘I thought she wanted to tell you that Ariadne and I were no longer sleeping togeth
er.’
Jane’s lips tightened. ‘Must you be so crude?’
‘Theos, you sound just like my mother.’ He scowled. ‘But she did give you reason to doubt what Ariadne had told you?’
Jane shook her head. ‘Yes—’
‘That’s something, I suppose.’
‘But in all fairness, you told me you’d slept with Ariadne,’ said Jane defensively.
Demetri groaned. ‘I’m not a monk, Jane.’
‘I know that.’
‘Oh, right. You know this because I made Ianthe my mistress just months after we got married?’
He would have got up from the sofa then but, with more courage than she’d given herself credit for, she reached out and gripped his wrist. His arm was lightly covered with dark hair but she could feel the heat emanating from him, the racing pulse beneath the skin.
‘Don’t go,’ she said, her voice husky. ‘Ianthe’s told me what happened. About her baby, I mean. That—that Yanis was the father, not you.’
For a moment he just stared at her and she had no idea what he was thinking. There was such a wealth of bitterness in his gaze that she felt herself shrink from the accusations she felt sure he was going to make.
‘Ianthe told you?’ he said hoarsely. ‘Theos, why would she do that?’
Jane moistened her dry lips. ‘I’m not entirely sure,’ she admitted huskily. ‘Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that you and Ariadne had split up.’
‘What did my relationship with Ariadne have to do with Ianthe?’
He was bewildered and showed it and Jane desperately wanted to comfort him. But she had the feeling he wouldn’t welcome her sympathy right now. ‘I think,’ she said, choosing her words with care, ‘that she’d realised you weren’t going to be happy with—with anyone else—’
‘But you, you mean?’ he demanded savagely, and this time she had no chance of stopping him when he wrenched his wrist out of her grasp and got to his feet. ‘My God!’ He strode across to the long windows that overlooked the square below. ‘And I’m supposed to be grateful for this?’ He turned to look at her, contempt in his eyes. ‘Damn you, Jane, I don’t want your pity!’
‘I don’t pity you, Demetri.’ Herself, maybe. She got to her feet and started towards him, but his gaze speared her like a knife and she halted uncertainly. ‘Please, you’ve got to listen to me. I know I’ve been a fool—’
‘You got that right.’
‘—but what was I supposed to do?’
Demetri’s lips twisted. ‘You could have believed me.’
‘Yes, yes, I could.’ Jane shook her head. ‘That sounds so simple, doesn’t it? I should have believed you, when the only other person involved insisted you were to blame.’
‘Ianthe lied.’
‘I know that now.’ Jane held up her head. ‘But you have to admit, no one—not even your father—told me who the baby’s father really was.’
Demetri hunched his shoulders, running his hands up to grip the back of his neck. ‘It was difficult for them, too,’ he muttered.
Jane felt indignant now. ‘I’ll bet.’
‘Yanis was just starting his training to become a priest.’ Demetri spoke heavily. ‘There was no way he could have continued with his studies in those circumstances.’
‘He should have thought of that before he slept with Ianthe!’
‘I agree.’ Demetri cast her a look out of the corners of his eyes. ‘Believe me, he was left in no doubt that his behaviour had shamed him, shamed the family.’
‘Not to mention your part in it,’ said Jane forcefully. ‘And, by extension, mine.’
‘It wasn’t meant to be that way.’ Demetri was vehement. ‘No one expected Ianthe to tell everyone that I was to blame.’
Jane’s brows drew together. ‘But I thought…’ She tried to regroup. ‘No one but you ever denied it.’
Demetri nodded. ‘That was my mother’s doing, I’m afraid.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh…’ His hands fell to his sides. ‘It all happened a long time ago now.’
‘That’s no answer.’
‘Endaxi.’ All right. He turned to face her, spreading his arms in a gesture of defeat. ‘You know my mother was always opposed to our marriage. When Ianthe said what she did, my mother persuaded my father and Stefan that denying it would only turn the spotlight on Yanis. Ianthe had spent a lot of time at the villa that summer. You know that.’
‘Don’t I just?’ Jane found it hard to hide her resentment.
‘Oristeh.’ There you are. Demetri’s tone was flat. ‘It seemed it was the only way to save Yanis’s future.’ He sighed. ‘And I, poor fool that I was, thought you’d believe me when I told you it wasn’t my child. That our marriage was strong enough to withstand anyone’s lies.’
‘You could have told me the truth,’ Jane insisted. ‘Not just that you weren’t to blame, but that Yanis was really the baby’s father.’
‘Neh, you’re right. I could have done that.’ Demetri regarded her sombrely. ‘But, you know what? I had some pride in those days. And I was so sick that you could even think that of me after everything we’d been to one another that I thought, what the hell! Let her believe what she likes for now. In time, she’ll see she was wrong.’
Jane stared at him. ‘You expected me to stay, knowing how I felt?’
‘Veveso!’ Sure. ‘That’s what people do when they love one another. They try to work things out. It never even crossed my mind that you might leave me!’ He groaned. ‘Theos, I thought we loved one another.’
‘We did. I did. I did love you.’ Jane was near to tears. ‘And I’m not saying I didn’t regret it afterwards. But you have to understand what it was like for me, too. I asked Ianthe—I begged her to tell me the truth—and she said you’d only married me on the rebound. That you and she had always cared about one another, and that that was why your mother had always opposed our marriage—’
‘But that’s—rubbish!’ Demetri swore then. ‘I was never interested in Ianthe and she knows it. She was in love with Yanis. She used to follow him around like a pet sheep. When she found out he was going to be a priest, I think she was desperate. She’d have done anything to stop him. Including throwing herself at him, I assume. And let’s face it, Yanis was young, and flattered, pithanon. I dare say he had no idea what she had in mind.’
Jane’s knees felt weak. ‘If only you’d told me.’
‘If only you’d told me you were leaving,’ he countered savagely. ‘Do you have any idea what it was like for me, coming home from a business trip to find my wife had gone to London and, according to my mother, she wasn’t coming back?’
Jane pressed her lips together. ‘I might have known your mother would play a part in it.’
‘Yeah, well, I was devastated. If it hadn’t been for my work, I think I’d have gone out of my mind.’
Jane swallowed. ‘You could have come to see me. You could have told me about Yanis.’
‘Oh, Jane!’ Demetri sank down onto the wide window seat and leaned forward, his forearms braced on his thighs. ‘Do you really think I didn’t try?’
Jane was confused. ‘I don’t understand…’
‘When it became obvious that you weren’t coming back, I did try to see you, Jane. Several times. But both your mother and the Ivanovitch woman insisted you didn’t want to see me.’
‘No—’
‘Neh.’ He was adamant. ‘I left messages on your mother’s answering machine asking you to meet me. I even hung about outside the gallery, hoping I might be able to intercept you when you left. But you either slipped out the back or you avoided me in some other way.’
‘I didn’t know.’ Jane was pale. She tried to think. ‘I did stay with my mother when I first got back, and I did go to work at the gallery, as you say. I don’t know how we could possibly not have seen one another.’
And then, she did. ‘Oh, God,’ she breathed. ‘I think I know what happened.’
She remembe
red how, at that time, she’d been less than enthusiastic when Olga had suggested a trip to New York. She’d only been back in England for a few days and all she’d really wanted to do was hide away and lick her wounds. Getting on a plane to New York, being expected to talk business with the gallery Olga dealt with, had seemed totally beyond her.
But Olga had been so disappointed at her reaction that she’d eventually given in. She’d decided it was just Olga’s way of trying to help her, of giving her something to do that would take her out of herself and give her time to deal with her pain in an environment that held no unhappy memories.
Now she recognised Olga’s actions for what they’d really been. An attempt on her part, and probably on Jane’s mother’s, as well, to get her out of London and away from Demetri.
Demetri had been watching the play of emotions that had crossed her face as the truth dawned. But when she quickly explained what had happened, his reaction was not what she’d expected.
‘So,’ he spoke with resignation, ‘Ianthe and my mother weren’t the only ones who wanted to keep us apart.’
‘No.’ She gazed at him. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Neh, so am I.’ He slumped then, burying his face in his hands. ‘Theos, this is too much for me to handle.’ His nails raked over his scalp. ‘All this time I thought you were happy with the situation.’
Jane caught her breath. ‘I thought you were.’
He looked up then. ‘How could you think that?’
‘How could I not?’
Demetri stared at her for a long time, then he gave a weary sigh. ‘So, now we know the truth at last. That’s something, I suppose.’
Jane felt sick. ‘Is that all you have to say?’
‘What do you expect me to say, Jane?’ he demanded, bitterly. ‘Do you think I am happy that I had to find out like this? All these years, all the lies people told—’ He made a helpless gesture. ‘I don’t even know what you want from me now. Understanding? Absolution? Exoneration? You’ve got them. But I have to tell you honestly, I’ll never forgive myself.’
