by Maya Banks
‘Is it all right?’
Kelly wondered why he was asking her that when he’d bought her clothes before without ever asking her opinion. Why be worried about this one? Unless it really was a very important evening. ‘The dress is perfect.’
‘I hope you don’t trip over the hem.’
‘Me too. With any luck there won’t be any stairs,’ she said hopefully, fingering the fabric with deference. ‘Where did you buy it?’
Alekos turned away from her and delved inside the pocket of his suit, searching for something. ‘It was made especially by an Athenian designer,’ he said vaguely. ‘I gave her your measurements.’
Was it her imagination or was he suddenly a little tenser than he’d been a few moments before? Picking up an atmosphere but not understanding it, Kelly was worried she hadn’t been enthusiastic enough. Perhaps he thought she was being ungrateful.
‘I love it. Honestly, it’s gorgeous. I’ve never had anything made especially for me before.’ She delved in the box and pulled out a pair of shoes made from the same fabric. Eyeing the heels, she gave a faltering smile. ‘Will there be a lot of valuable items on display for me to crash into?’
‘You won’t be crashing anywhere tonight, agape mou.’ Relaxed again, Alekos strolled towards the shower. ‘Your stylist will be here in half an hour, so why don’t you grab some rest while you can?’
‘My stylist.’ Kelly grinned to herself. ‘I’m not sure why that sounds so good. I ought to be able to style myself, but it’s awfully nice to know that there will be someone else to blame if you end up looking a total mess. Are we coming home tonight?’
‘No. We’re booked into a suite at the Cipriani.’
‘The Cipriani? I’ve heard of that,’ Kelly squeaked. ‘Wow. Lots of famous people stay there: George Clooney, Tom Cruise, Alekos Zagorakis...’
‘And Kelly,’ Alekos finished, and she gave a weak smile.
‘And Kelly. I just hope George Clooney doesn’t feel upstaged by me being there. Poor him. He doesn’t stand a chance, does he?’
* * *
As the limousine pulled up to the end of a long red carpet, Kelly shrank. ‘You didn’t say anything about a red carpet, cameras and a million people staring. Alekos, I can’t walk in these shoes in public.’
‘If I’d mentioned it, you just would have worried.’ Alekos took her hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘I’m with you this time. You just smile and look aloof.’
‘It’s hard to look aloof when you’re nose is splattered on the floor, which is where mine will be if I have to walk the length of that carpet in front of an audience!’
‘I’ll be holding your hand.’
‘Can I take my shoes off?’
‘Not unless you want to attract extra attention. Smile,’ Alekos instructed as the car door was opened from the outside and a burst of light filled the car. ‘Leave the rest to me.’
Kelly stepped gingerly out of the car and was immediately blinded by flashbulbs. Her lips fixed in a rigid smile, she took one look at the yelling crowd, and would have shot back into the car but Alekos’s fingers handcuffed her wrists.
‘Walk. Incline your head. Lift your chin slightly—better.’ He issued a stream of instructions and encouragement, his hand holding hers tightly as he walked her down the red carpet and into the gallery. ‘Now you can relax.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Kelly stared nervously at the priceless artefacts. ‘I won’t relax until I leave knowing I didn’t break anything.’
‘If you do break something, no one will dare comment,’ Alekos said smoothly. ‘I’m an extremely generous benefactor. And, no, before you ask, that doesn’t give me warm, fuzzy feelings.’
‘I don’t think even I’d get warm, fuzzy feelings about a painting,’ Kelly confessed, craning her neck as she looked at the art on the walls. ‘Why do you support a museum in Venice? Why not the museum in Athens?’
‘I do support the museum in Athens. Come with me, there is someone I want you to meet.’ Supplying her with a drink, Alekos led her through the elegant throng of people towards a man who stood admiring a painting. ‘Constantine.’
The man turned and Kelly saw that he was elderly. His white hair was swept back from a face that was still handsome, despite his years. ‘Alekos.’ His expression brightened and there was a brief exchange of rapid Greek before Alekos drew Kelly forward and introduced her.
‘Ah.’ Constantine smiled at her, a knowing look in his eyes. ‘So we are surrounded by priceless works of art but still Alekos manages to arrive with something more dazzling on his arm.’ He lifted her hand to his lips. ‘Even the gold of the Renaissance doesn’t shine quite so brightly as a woman in love. Good, I’m pleased. And not before time, Alekos Zagorakis.’
Kelly felt Alekos stiffen beside her and suddenly she wanted to put her hand over the other man’s mouth to silence him.
She’d been walking on eggshells for weeks, and now this man was stomping over their fragile relationship with hobnail boots.
‘I love this painting,’ she blurted out in a high voice. ‘Is it a—?’ Suddenly her brain emptied; she couldn’t think of a single Italian artist. Panic had wiped her mind clean. ‘Canaletto?’
Constantine looked at her curiously and then shifted his gaze to the information plate next to the painting that clearly said Bellini.
Kelly gave a weak smile. ‘Bellini—of course. I wonder if they have any postcards that I can buy for the children...’ Gabbling nervously, it took her a moment to realise she’d inadvertently said totally the wrong thing.
‘Children? You have children?’ Constantine glanced from her to Alekos, who was standing as frozen as a statue. ‘This is good news. Is there a reason for me to congratulate you?’
Horrified, Kelly sneaked a look at Alekos, whose face was a study in masculine tension.
‘No,’ he said shortly. ‘You have no reason to congratulate me.’
‘I meant the children that I teach. I’m a teacher.’ But Kelly’s legs were shaking and she put her hand against the wall to support herself.
Constantine slapped Alekos on the shoulder. ‘So you’re not a father yet?’
‘No.’ Alekos’s voice was hoarse. ‘I’m not a father.’
Kelly felt as though he’d punched her.
She felt hideously, horribly sick. Had he really said that?
He still wasn’t telling anyone. He was still denying the existence of the baby.
Not trusting herself to speak, Kelly wished she could drink the champagne that was circulating, but she had to settle for orange juice which proved absolutely useless for numbing pain. Alekos had smoothly changed the subject, but Kelly was so upset she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. Her hands shook so much, she sloshed orange onto the floor. Normally she would have been mortified by her clumsiness, but tonight she didn’t even care.
I’m not a father. He’d actually said those words.
I’m not a father.
What was she doing with him? She was a complete and utter fool, trying to shape this relationship into something that looked normal.
She was kidding herself if she ever thought he was going to suddenly come round to having children. And just because she was sympathetic to his reasons didn’t mean she was willing to allow her child to have the same dysfunctional relationship with him that she’d had with her father. No way was she going to have her child waiting on a doorstep for a father who just wasn’t interested.
I’m not a father.
‘Alekos!’ A woman with sloe eyes and an impossibly slender frame joined their group, kissing first Alekos and then Constantine. ‘Isn’t this a terrible crush? Still, it’s good to do one’s bit for the arts.’ Her eyes fastened on Kelly’s dress and then widened. ‘Is that—?’
‘Tatiana, this is Kelly.’ Alekos interrupted
the woman swiftly but Kelly stared at her numbly, wondering why her dress was causing such a stir.
Why was everyone so shallow? Yes it was pretty, and she liked having something special to wear as much as the next girl, but no dress, however gorgeous, could make up for a completely deficient relationship.
I’m not a father.
‘Why are you staring at my dress?’
Tatiana laughed, a sound like glass shattering. ‘It’s by Marianna, isn’t it? Lucky you. She only designs for the favoured few. Completely impossible to get hold of any of her pieces.’ She gave Alekos a knowing smile. ‘Unless you have a particular place in her heart, of course.’
By Marianna.
Marianna?
Kelly stared at the woman. Then she looked down at the gold dress, remembering how tense Alekos had been when he’d given it to her.
No wonder, she thought numbly. No wonder he’d been behaving oddly.
He must have been terrified that she’d find out.
What sort of insensitive brute dressed his current girlfriend in his ex’s creations?
The same insensitive brute who still denied the existence of their baby. The same insensitive brute who hadn’t told her to move her ring to the other hand.
Her eyes scalded by tears, Kelly stared hard at the Bellini on the wall, wondering if Renaissance man had been any more considerate than modern man.
Fisting her hand into the gold dress, she pulled it off the ground and swept towards the exit, brushing against a fine Renaissance sculpture in her attempt to get away as fast as possible.
As she ran back down the red carpet, her eyes stung and there was a solid lump lodged in her throat.
She’d expected something to shatter into a million pieces that night. She just hadn’t expected it to be her heart.
* * *
The hotel suite was like a glass capsule, suspended mid-air over the lagoon, but if Alekos had expected a display of Kelly’s normal exuberant enthusiasm then he was disappointed.
He’d caught up with her at the end of the red carpet and bundled her into the back of his waiting limousine, concerned that she hadn’t appeared to be thinking about where she was going or what she was doing.
Once they’d arrived at the hotel, she’d stalked into the room ahead of him, tugged off her shoes and dropped them on the floor without giving him a backward glance. Now she had her hands behind her back, wriggling and writhing in an attempt to undo the invisible zip, clearly determined not to ask for his help.
She was seething; furiously angry.
Alekos strolled across to her and put his hands on her back, but she knocked him away.
‘Don’t touch me.’ Her voice was shaking. ‘On second thoughts, unzip this stupid dress so that I can take it off. I don’t want to be wearing something made by one of your ex-girlfriends.’
Alekos took a deep breath. ‘It did occur to me that you would be upset that the dress was by Marianna, which is why I didn’t tell you.’
‘It would have been better if you hadn’t given me a dress by her in the first place!’
‘I knew that red-carpet display would unnerve you.’ He slid the zip down from neck to hem, feeling his body tighten as his eyes lingered on the smooth lines of her bare back. ‘I thought it would help if you liked the way you looked. Her clothes are highly sought-after, and I thought it would give you confidence to wear one of her unique creations.’
‘Confidence?’ She whirled round, her hair tumbling down from the elegant clip that had restrained it all evening. ‘You think it gives me confidence to be told in public that I’m wearing a dress designed by your ex-girlfriend?’
‘I did not know that Tatiana was going to make the connection.’
‘Oh, well, that makes it fine, then!’ Her voice thick with tears, Kelly yanked at the dress and pushed it off her body as if it were infectious. ‘I see the label now.’ She snatched the dress off the floor and stared at the elegant ‘By Marianna’ that had been discreetly hand-sewn onto a seam of the dress. ‘I’m a complete and utter fool.’
Dragging his eyes from the generous curve of her creamy breasts, Alekos tried to focus. ‘You are not a fool.’ He breathed unsteadily but Kelly pushed her fists into her cheeks, her face crumpling as she struggled for control.
‘Just get away from me. Only you can turn the most romantic city on earth into a hell hole.’ Still dressed only in her underwear, Kelly stalked over to the window, hugging herself with her arms as she looked over the lagoon. ‘That place is probably littered with the dead bodies of women who have thrown themselves in after spending a night with men like you.’
Raising his eyes to the ceiling, Alekos walked across to her. ‘Marianna makes unique, elegant evening-dresses. She has a four-year waiting list because she is the best, and I wanted to buy you the best.’
Her shoulders stiffened a little more and she didn’t turn. ‘It was hideously insensitive.’
‘I am with you, not her.’
‘No, you’re not—you’re not with me, Alekos. Not really. We’ve just been going through the motions, haven’t we?’ She turned then, her face wet with tears, her mascara streaking under her eyes.
It occurred to Alekos that he’d never seen a woman cry properly before with no thought to her appearance. Instead of sniffing delicately, Kelly rubbed her face with her hand, smearing tears and mascara together. Alekos, who had never before been moved by tears, had never felt more uncomfortable in his life.
‘We are not going through the motions.’
‘Yes, we are. Have you ever said “I love you”? No, of course not, for the simple reason that you don’t love me! I started off as someone to have sex with and ended up as someone having your baby—’ Her voice hitched. ‘And it’s a mess. The whole situation is a horrid, tangled mess. And it’s not supposed to be like this. It just isn’t!’ She started to sob but when Alekos put his hands on her shoulders she pushed him away roughly.
‘You did it again. When Constantine asked you if you were a father, you said no!’ Her face was wet, her eyes were red and swollen, but Alekos stood with his hands frozen to his sides, knowing that if he touched her she’d flip.
‘Kelly...’
‘No.’ Her hair flew around her face as she shook her head. ‘No more excuses. Do you know what, Alekos? I just can’t do this. I can’t carry on living on a knife edge, wondering whether this is going to be the day you tell me you can’t do this any more. I don’t want our child growing up wondering whether you’re going to be there or not, feeling like he’s done something wrong. You can’t be there one minute and not the next, because I know how it feels to be standing on a doorstep waiting for a dad that never turns up!’
Transfixed into stillness by that revealing statement, Alekos stood watching her, waiting for Kelly to spill her guts as she always did and elaborate on the true reason behind her explosive reaction to his clumsy behaviour.
But tonight she just turned away from him and stared over the lagoon.
‘I want to go h-home,’ she sobbed. ‘I want to go home to Little Molting. We’ll sort the details out later.’
‘You stood on a doorstep waiting? Is that what happened to you?’ His voice was soft as he prompted her. ‘Did your dad leave you waiting for him?’
She kept her back to him, her shoulders stiff. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
Alekos hung onto his own temper with difficulty. ‘Theé mou, you talk about everything else! There is not a single thing going on in your head that doesn’t come out of your mouth, but this—’ he gestured with a slice of his hand ‘—this really important thing, you don’t mention to me. Why not?’
It was a moment before she answered. ‘Because talking about it doesn’t help,’ she muttered. ‘It doesn’t make me feel nice.’
‘Kelly.’ Struggling to ge
t it right, Alekos drew his hand over the back of his neck. ‘Right this minute I’m not feeling nice, and I don’t think you are either, so it would be great if you could just not pick this particular moment to clam up. Tell me about your father. I want to know. It’s important.’
She rubbed her hand across her cheek and sniffed. ‘My mum spent half her life trying to turn him into what she wanted him to be.’
‘And what was that?’
‘A husband. A father.’ Her voice thick with tears, she kept wiping her eyes with her hand. ‘But he didn’t want children. Mum thought he’d come round to the idea, but he never did; that wasn’t what happened. Occasionally his conscience would prick him and he’d phone to say he was coming to see me.’ Her voice split. ‘And I’d boast to all my friends that my dad was going to take me out. I’d pack my bag and wait by the door. And then he wouldn’t turn up. That makes you feel pretty lousy, I can tell you. As childhoods went, it was no fairy tale.’
And she’d always wanted the fairy tale.
Thinking about his contribution to slashing those dreams, Alekos pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and tried to think clearly. ‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this before now?’
‘Because it has nothing to do with us.’
‘It has everything to do with us,’ he said thickly. ‘It explains a great deal about why you find it so hard to trust me. It explains why you keep giving me nervous looks. Why you keep waiting for me to fail.’
‘The reason I keep giving you nervous looks is because I know this isn’t what you wanted. And I know that this sort of situation doesn’t have a happy ending. We could keep it going for a while—maybe we’d split up and then get back together, who knows—but that isn’t what I want, Alekos. I don’t believe in the fairy tale any more,’ she said in a faltering voice. ‘But I do believe I deserve better than that. And so does my baby.’ Without looking at him, she walked into the bedroom and closed the door.
