by Abby Green
Nikos looked at it suspiciously. ‘What is it?’
She pushed it towards him. ‘A present.’
Nikos shook his head. He wanted to push it back. ‘You don’t have to give me anything.’
No one had ever given him anything.
‘Please.’
Nikos took it reluctantly and opened it. It was a card with a nice bucolic scene.
Maggie said, ‘It reminded me of the garden at Kildare House.’
Nikos opened it. Inside there was some kind of a printout. He picked it out and read it and his chest felt tight again. It was a voucher for a personal tour of the Colosseum.
Maggie said quickly, ‘We can do it the next time we’re in Rome—or, you know, whenever...’
Nikos saw a message on the card.
Happy Birthday, Nikos
Maggie and Daniel
XX
He put the card and the voucher down. He felt light-headed after revealing more than he’d ever revealed to anyone.
‘You’re sweet, Maggie. Too sweet for me.’
I can’t have sweet things.
She shook her head. ‘I’m not too sweet—I’m just not as hardened and cynical as everyone else you know. I’m normal, Nikos. Most people out there are like me.’
No, she was more than that. Most people weren’t as sweet as her. She was unique, and Nikos knew that he had no right to any of Maggie’s sweetness. And yet he’d gorged himself on her.
He felt toxic.
‘Go back and enjoy the cake with Marianne. Thank you, but it’s not for me.’
Maggie felt a chill go down her back. Nikos was more remote than she’d ever seen him. He’d retreated to some place she knew she couldn’t reach.
She moved towards him and he stepped back. A sharp pain lanced her gut.
‘We’ll be having dinner soon, if you want to join us.’
Your family.
Nikos shook his head abruptly. ‘I don’t need dinner. I have calls to make before our trip to France.’
The villa that Nikos had hired in the south of France was jaw-droppingly impressive, hugging the edge of a steep hill with views over the Mediterranean. A thoroughly modern structure, it was white and steel and sleek and impossibly sexy.
Maggie hated it.
And she was tired after a sleepless night with Daniel.
She and Marianne had decided that at almost four months he was starting to teethe—which had to be the reason for his tetchy humour and the fact that he would only take milk from her breast. He wasn’t interested in a bottle.
Marianne was looking after Daniel now, in between feeds.
Nikos appeared on the terrace and Maggie had to steel herself not to react. But it was even harder today, when he was in faded worn jeans and a white polo shirt which showed off the olive tones of his skin and his musculature.
He barely looked at her, though, and glanced at his watch. ‘Staff are coming to set up soon and the guests will be arriving from five p.m. I’ve arranged for a team to come up from a salon in Cannes. Clothes have been ordered—they should be in your wardrobe.’
‘Yes, they’re there.’
She’d seen the glittering array of dresses. Each one as beautiful and intimidating as the next. Even though she was getting used to the process she still felt like a fish out of water—and even more so now, when she was feeling fatigued and concerned about Daniel.
‘Are you okay?’ Nikos asked.
Maggie looked at him. She felt like asking if he really cared. He’d barely said two words to her since that conversation in his study in London. But now probably wasn’t the time to get into anything.
‘I’m fine, just a bit tired. And Daniel—’
Nikos frowned. ‘Is he okay?’
‘He’s fine—we think he’s starting to teethe.’
‘Is that serious? Does he need a doctor?’
Maggie smiled. ‘No, it’s not serious—it’s perfectly normal. All babies teethe. It just makes them cranky.’
‘Let me know if it’s anything more. Maybe you shouldn’t come this evening—maybe you should stay with Daniel?’
Maggie smarted at the suggestion that she should absent herself. Which was crazy. Obviously Daniel was more important, but—ridiculously—she felt jealous of her own baby, who seemed to be commanding Nikos’s attention with more skill than she did.
Earlier, on the plane, she hadn’t been able to soothe a fractious Daniel. Nikos had put down his papers and held out his arms. ‘Here, let me try.’
Almost immediately the little traitor had stopped crying and promptly fallen asleep in his father’s arms.
It was something that should have sparked joy within Maggie. Alleviating her worst fears. But instead it had made her feel redundant. If Daniel and Nikos bonded, where did that leave her? She hadn’t ever anticipated that scenario.
The suspicion that he was punishing her for intruding—going too far with the birthday celebration—was like acid in her stomach. A man as proud as Nikos wouldn’t thank her after telling her the sorry facts of his lonely childhood.
She forced those thoughts out of her mind. ‘Daniel will be fine. Marianne is with him and I can feed him when I need to.’
‘I’ll leave it up to you—just don’t feel obliged.’
Maggie watched as he walked off. So now it didn’t even matter if his wife was by his side? When it was supposed to be part of the reason for this marriage...? She couldn’t escape the feeling that the ground was shifting underneath her and she had nothing to cling on to.
A few hours later Maggie looked at herself critically in the mirror. Make-up had covered the circles under her eyes, but she knew she still looked a bit washed out.
Her hair was caught back in a low bun and she wore a strapless light blue sheath dress, down to the knee, with matching sandals with kitten heels that were mercifully easy to walk in.
She left a sleeping Daniel with Marianne and went downstairs, nervous of Nikos’s reaction now that he was in this strange aloof mood. He turned as she came down and she saw the flare of something in his eyes before his face became impassive again. She felt a treacherous little flicker of hope.
He hadn’t appreciated having to open up. That was all it was.
‘Is this okay?’
‘It’s fine.’ His voice was gruff.
He wore a steel-grey suit and no tie. Casual, but elegant. And unashamedly masculine.
Staff had been busy in the interim. They’d decorated the space with flowers and she could see a long table outside in the shade, set for dinner.
A new scent infused the air. She wrinkled her nose, ‘Is that—’
Nikos grimaced. ‘Yes, that’s the new perfume—a little overpowering, but it’s one of our biggest sellers already.’
Maggie saw cars starting to appear in the driveway, and as everyone arrived she got split up from Nikos. She did her best to mingle and make small talk with people, but found that this crowd looked at her as if she were a curiosity, and seemed more interested in speaking behind her back when she walked away.
She caught more than a few snide glances from other women. And one woman looked at her and openly laughed. To Maggie’s intense shame, she was transported back in time to when the girls and boys at her school would laugh at her and call her Beanpole. And even though she wasn’t the tallest woman here, in this place, that old feeling of exposure was hot and crippling and immediate.
She had a sense of having been found out. She was a fraud. She wasn’t from this world and they knew it. She didn’t belong here—she would never belong here. And that was the realisation Nikos had come to too. The only thing keeping them together now was—
Suddenly Nikos was there, looking at her. Specifically at her breasts. He came forward and took her arm, leading her to one side.
‘What
is that? Did you spill something?’
‘What’s what?’
Maggie looked down and groaned. There were two wet patches over her breasts. She was leaking milk. She’d ignored the signs of her breasts growing tingly and heavy, too intent on making a good impression at the party. Now she’d made an impression, all right.
Mortified, she said, ‘I need to feed Daniel.’
She pulled away from Nikos and hurried upstairs, conscious of whispers and muffled laughter. Face burning, she went into the bedroom.
Marianne took one look and handed her Daniel, saying, ‘I’ll find you another dress.’
Maggie undid her dress and settled Daniel on her breast, taking a look down at the terrace, where all those honeyed people were milling about.
She shook her head when Marianne came back in with an armful of clothes. ‘No way. I’m not going back down there—they’re piranhas.’
Marianne made a huffing sound. ‘He needs you.’
Maggie could see Nikos, head and shoulders above everyone else. Surrounded by sycophants.
‘Does he? I don’t think he does, Marianne. And clearly I’m not really suited to this milieu.’
Marianne said enigmatically, ‘All the more reason for you to go back down and remind him of that.’
The last thing Maggie wanted to do was expose herself to that snooty crowd’s ridicule again, but she wasn’t that shy, over-tall girl any more. She was a woman. A wife and a mother. And she’d made a pledge to honour her husband even if theirs wasn’t a love match. And never would be.
So when Maggie had fed and changed Daniel and put him down, she changed into a black silk maxi-dress and flat sandals. She shook her hair loose, put on some red lipstick and went back to the party.
All the guests were sitting at the long dining table. Waiters were serving. Nikos was at the head. As one, everyone seemed to stop and look at her when she appeared on the terrace. For an awful moment Maggie thought she couldn’t do it—and then Nikos stood up and held out a hand.
‘Everyone, if you haven’t yet met her, this is my wife, Maggie.’
She walked towards him, his gold and green eyes holding her. Whatever was going on with him, and this new distance he was putting between them, she would be grateful for ever for this show of solidarity.
She sat down at his right-hand side and the woman on her right put a hand on her arm. Maggie looked around warily, to see the friendly face of a woman a bit older than her.
She said, ‘Oh, my God—I felt so sorry for you. The exact same thing happened to me at a function after I had my first baby—in front of hundreds of people.’ She stuck out her hand. ‘I’m Melissa, and this is my husband Klaus—he’s one of the chief parfumiers in the company.’
Maggie smiled with relief and shook her hand, confiding, ‘I almost didn’t come back down.’
Melissa said, sotto voce, ‘I’m glad you did. Those women don’t deserve a second thought—they’re just insanely jealous that you’ve managed to tame one of the world’s most notorious playboys.’
Maggie smiled weakly. Had she tamed Nikos? No... But maybe Daniel had. The problem was, she suspected Nikos was already chafing at the reality of being tamed.
Later that night, Maggie woke up with a start. She’d fallen asleep in the chair where she’d fed Daniel, who was now back in his cot, fast asleep. She’d come up to feed him after dinner.
She stood up and went to the window which overlooked the terrace. All was quiet now, the guests all departed. Her insides clenched when she saw the lone figure of Nikos, looking out over the view. It made her heart ache—especially now that she knew just how bleak his childhood had been.
She wanted to go down to him and slide her arms around his waist, offer him comfort. But she knew he wouldn’t welcome it. That image belonged to a different scenario. One in which Nikos actually cared for her. Like she cared for him.
Loved him.
Her breath stopped as that cataclysmic realisation sank in. She loved him. Desperately. Futilely. And he couldn’t have made it clearer that her affection wasn’t welcome.
Monte Carlo was as tiny and picturesque as Maggie had always imagined. In her teens she’d been fascinated with Grace Kelly, and had read everything about her, so to be here now was overwhelming.
They’d taken a helicopter from Cannes, landing on a helipad near the Marchetti Group hotel where they had an exclusive suite. The hotel was part of the opulent casino where they were due to attend an event that night.
This last event of the tour was a charity auction in aid of all the charities that the Marchetti Group supported. Afterwards there was to be a high-stakes poker game with all the proceeds going to charity.
Once again a team had come up from the hotel salon and they’d transformed Maggie into a far sleeker version of herself. Her hair lay in waves over one bare shoulder. Her cocktail dress was black and asymmetrical, one-shouldered, down to the knee with a slit up one side.
Nikos walked into the living area of the suite, doing up his cufflinks. He looked up and that dark gaze swept her up and down. If there was a flare of interest in his eyes she didn’t see it. She felt cold.
‘How’s Daniel?’ he asked.
‘Fine—fed and changed. Marianne has taken him out for a stroll around the gardens. I’ve expressed some milk, so we shouldn’t have a recurrence of—’
Nikos shook his head. ‘Don’t worry about that.’
She took a step towards him. ‘Look, Nikos, is everything...okay between us?’
He put his hands in his pockets. ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’
Maggie bit her lip. ‘It just feels like since London... Maybe you didn’t want to tell me...’ She trailed off.
‘Everything is fine.’
Except it wasn’t. There was a cold chasm between them. Even as her blood still hummed just at being near him. She hated the insidious feeling that he didn’t want her any more.
He said, ‘Ready?’
She nodded and walked towards him. As they left the suite she said, ‘I presume once we’re back in Paris things will calm down?’
The lift attendant greeted them and pressed the button for the ground floor.
Nikos looked at her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, there won’t be so much travelling...we can get settled.’
The lift doors opened and they got out.
Nikos said warningly. ‘I do travel a lot. I can’t say I don’t. You won’t always have to come with me, but your presence will be required.’
Maggie envisaged all those events with a stony Nikos by her side. ‘I know that. But as Daniel grows into a toddler, and then older, he’ll need a more regular routine.’
‘That’s what nannies are for.’
His easy response sent a spurt of anger up her spine. She faced him. ‘After everything you told me the other day, you’d entrust our son’s care to a nanny? Do you envisage sending him to boarding school too?’
Now his eyes flashed—but it gave Maggie no satisfaction.
Nikos took her hand. She tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her. ‘We will not have this conversation here.’
Maggie dug her heels in. ‘When, then?’
Nikos gritted his jaw. ‘Later. After the event.’
Maggie noticed that people were waiting for them, so she let Nikos lead her towards them. They were swept into the ballroom—a magnificent baroque space, with open French doors and a terrace leading down to stunning gardens. A small orchestra played classical music on the terrace and Maggie accepted a small glass of champagne, feeling a little reckless from that rush of adrenalin just now.
But as she stood by Nikos’s side and the auction got underway, the adrenalin faded and she’d never felt more alone. In the space of only two weeks, it was scary how used she’d got to him touching her, checking to see if she was okay.
But now it was as if he couldn’t bring himself to look at her, never mind touch her. As if he wouldn’t even notice if she left.
So she did.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
NIKOS KNEW THE moment Maggie walked away. He knew he was behaving like a boor. But he couldn’t stop. When she’d asked him earlier if things were okay—when she’d mentioned London—he’d felt that awful sense again that he was toxic, and that with every moment spent in his company she was being tainted by him.
In truth, he was finding it hard even to look at Maggie, even though he burned for her more than ever. Looking at her...at those blue eyes...made him feel exposed down to his core.
Daniel was the only one who seemed to look at him and not expect anything.
That’s because he’s a baby.
Nikos scowled at himself. But the utter trust which with Daniel looked at him soothed something inside him. Something that Maggie rubbed up against. Making him remember...too much. Making him want things he couldn’t have. Sweetness. Light.
Maggie hadn’t returned by the time the auction was over. He sensed instinctively that she wouldn’t. He’d pushed her away.
He told himself he was glad. She needed to know what he was like.
The ghost of his past whispered around him, beckoning to him. Reminding him of his worth. His true worth. Maggie had made him feel as if he might be worth something—something more—but it had been an illusion.
She saw too much. She wanted too much. He could feel it from her. A silent plea. One that he couldn’t possibly fulfil.
It was far better that she remembered who he was and who he could never be. Before she got hurt.
When Maggie woke she had a crick in her neck. She realised that she’d fallen asleep in an awkward position on the bed after feeding Daniel—again. She padded out of the bedroom to find Marianne still awake, reading in the living area.
‘Has Nikos come back?’
Marianne shook her head. ‘Not yet.’ Then she frowned. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Sure... Why?’
‘I heard you...being sick.’
Maggie flushed with guilt. She’d been feeling nauseous all day. ‘It was nothing.’
