A FORTNIGHT HAD passed and his words were still sharp in her brain, like shards of glass that made her weep blood whenever she ran the fingertip of her mind over them.
‘This is just great sex... Do not confuse it with anything more substantive...’
Her coffee-coloured eyes were flecked with gold as they drifted over the view from the window. For her office she’d chosen a room far away from the pool, their bedroom and the kitchen—that was to say far from any of the rooms that distracted her with what Nikos and she had shared there.
It was a small room, but she didn’t need a lot of space, and it afforded an outlook of the city, rather than the ocean. In the distance she could see the Acropolis, bathed in early-evening light, and the buildings of the city sprawled almost like a child’s model.
Though she took solace and inspiration from the outlook, this was not why she’d chosen this particular spot from which to work. From her seat she could see the curve of Nikos’s driveway. The second his car thrummed through the gates she knew. And then she had the maximum time to prepare herself for his arrival, to gather the facade she had perfected around her slender shoulders. A facade that was essential when faced with her husband.
They shared meals and polite conversation. They were unstintingly civil. But there was a torrent of emotions swirling hatefully beneath all their appropriate conversations. Only when they came together at night did she find an outlet for her rampant emotions. Sex. Passionate, all-consuming sex that explained everything. She was addicted to him. To his body and to the way he made her feel.
Marnie clicked out of her spreadsheet, her mind half-absorbed with the call-list she had for the following day. How grateful she was to have her work! Were it not for the distraction of the behind-the-scenes fundraising she did for the Future Trust she might have exploded already in a scene reminiscent of Vesuvius.
She flicked a glance to the clock above the door. He was late, and nerves that had been stretched tight for two days—since he’d told her about this event—were at breaking point.
For the first time since marrying they were going out.
Strange how she hadn’t even realised that she’d become a virtual recluse, spending her time almost exclusively within the confines of his home except for brief trips to the markets with Eléni.
Now it was time to meet the world. She was Mrs Kyriazis—billionaire’s wife.
What a joke.
Their marriage was little more than revenge and sex, and yet tonight she would play the part of doting newlywed to perfection. If only to show him how little she cared.
She heard his car and rose quickly from her desk. It wasn’t that she had intended to be secretive about her work, but Nikos never came into her office. As if that conversation on her first afternoon in Greece had flagged something in his mind and he had subsequently delineated her office as her own space. For all he knew she might be running some kind of international drug ring, she thought with a small smile as she pulled the door shut behind her.
Marnie rarely wore heels, but for the kind of evening Nikos had foreshadowed she knew they’d be a requirement. They did bolster her height nicely, and she felt the picture of elegance when she walked gracefully down the stairs.
She’d spent a long time styling her hair, and her make-up was a masterpiece. Anne Kenington might not have played Cubby House with her children, nor had she read them the books that a nanny had had more time for, but she had insisted both her daughters were drilled in the skills necessary to present themselves as Ladies.
When Marnie emerged into the foyer at the same moment that Nikos entered the house she waited with a small smile on her red lips for him to see her. Pleasant anticipation swirled through her as she waited for the light of attraction to bounce between them.
The second his eyes lifted to her she felt a bolt of something. Not desire. Not happiness. Something else. Something far darker.
His eyes undertook a slow and thorough inspection, but his expression showed only shock. Marnie held her breath as he stared at her, waiting, aching, needing. Wanting him to say something to explain the reaction.
‘You look...’ He wiped a hand across his eyes and shook his head.
‘Yes?’ She braved a smile, though her heart was plummeting to the floor.
‘Nothing. It doesn’t matter.’
He dropped his keys onto the side table and turned away. Only the ragged movement of his chest showed that he was still struggling with a dark tangle of emotions.
‘I will be ready as soon as I can. Why do you not have a drink while you wait?’
A frown marred her features for the briefest of moments before she remembered. She didn’t do that! She didn’t betray how easily he could upset her.
‘Fine,’ she agreed, her smile ice-cold, her pulse hammering. ‘Don’t be long. You said it starts at eight.’
He didn’t acknowledge her rejoinder. Marnie watched with consternation as he took the stairs two at a time, then she turned away and wove her way to the kitchen.
It was another stunning evening. The sun was almost completely out of sight, leaving inky streaks in the sky and a sprinkling of sparkling lights that heralded night’s arrival. She flicked the kettle on to brew tea and then thought better of it. She had a feeling something stronger was called for.
She poured a glass of champagne and held it in both hands as she moved to the terrace. The pool was beautiful. The surface, undisturbed by their usual evening activity, had a stillness to it, and it reflected not only the evening sky and the glow of his house but Marnie’s figure, too.
She stared down at the watery image of herself, allowing her earlier frown to tug her lips downwards now that she was alone. Why did he disapprove? Though she hated this sort of mix-and-mingle affair, she’d been to enough of them to know the drill. Her dress was the latest word in couture, her shoes were perfect—everything about her was just what people would expect the wife of Nikos Kyriazis to be.
She crouched down, careful to keep the hem of her dress out of the water, and ran her manicured fingertips through its surface, slashing her image so that only swirls of colour remained. Satisfied, she stood and turned towards the house, startled when she saw Nikos just inside the door.
He’d showered and changed into a formal tuxedo, and his dark hair was slicked back from his brow, showing the hauteur of his handsome features, the strength of his bone structure and the determination of his jaw.
A kaleidoscope of butterflies was swirling through her insides, filling her veins with flutters of anticipation. As she stepped closer a hint of his fragrance—that unmistakably masculine scent of spice and citrus—carried to her on the balmy breeze.
The tuxedo was jet-black and might as well have been stitched to his body; it fitted like a second skin, emphasising the breadth of his shoulders and neatness of his waist.
She waited half a beat, giving him an opportunity to redeem the situation. It shouldn’t be hard. He simply needed to offer a smile, or compliment her appearance, or ask about her day. She wasn’t fussy. Any of the small ways a husband might greet his wife would have sufficed.
But instead Nikos looked at his wristwatch. ‘Ready?’
She compressed her lips, the spark of mutiny colouring her complexion for a minute. ‘Do I look ready?’ she asked tartly, swishing past him and clipping across the room.
In the kitchen, she took two big sips of her champagne and then placed the glass down on the marble counter a little more firmly than she’d intended, so that a loud noise cracked through the room.
‘Yes,’ he said finally, closing the distance between them.
He stared down at her, his eyes flicking across the inches of her face. She didn’t back away from him; she didn’t let him see that her heart was being shredded by his lack of kindness. With her shoulders squared she walked ahead of him, out of the house and into the warm night air.
He opened the passenger door of the Ferrari for her and Marnie took her seat, careful not to touch him as she slid into the luxurious interior. The moment he sat beside her she was aware of his every single breath and movement. Unconsciously, she felt herself swaying closer to the window on her side, her eyes trained steadfastly on the view beyond the vehicle as they cruised away from his home.
At the bottom of the drive he turned left. Though Marnie was still getting her bearings, she’d ventured to the markets with Eléni enough times to know that he’d turned the car away from the city.
He drove without speaking, and she was glad of that. She needed the time to regain her composure, though she didn’t have long. It was only a short distance to their destination: the ocean—and an enormous boat that was sparkling with the power of the thousands of tiny golden fairy lights that zigzagged across its deck. It was moored just off the coast.
‘The party’s on a boat?’ she murmured, shifting to face him.
His eyes stayed trained on the cruise ship. ‘As you see.’
She swallowed and bit back on a tart rejoinder. She’d vowed not to argue with him. Even that would show how she’d come to care too greatly. ‘Great,’ she snapped with acidity. ‘I love boats.’
He was out of the car and rounding the side. Marnie pushed the door open and stepped out before he could reach her. After all, she’d opened her own doors all her life; why did that have to change now?
The ramp that led from the shore to the boat looked to have been specially constructed for the event. Though sturdy, it was obviously temporary. They were the only ones on it—though that was hardly surprising given that they were arriving well after the party had started.
‘What is this for?’ she asked as they stepped onto the polished deck.
‘My bank throws it every year.’
‘Your bank?’ she clarified, pausing and turning to face him.
‘The bank I work with,’ he said distractedly. ‘I do not own it.’
‘I see.’
But from the second they arrived it became blatantly obvious that Nikos enjoyed an almost god-like status with the high and mighty of the institution.
Drinks were brought, food offered and advice sought. Much of the conversation was in Greek or Italian, which Marnie understood only passably. She stood beside him listening, catching what she could, but her frustration was growing.
What was going on with him? He was acting as though she’d just knifed the tyres of his car or sold the secrets of their marriage to a tabloid. He was furious with her—and for what possible reason? She had done everything right! The clothes she wore, the hair, the make-up—she had put so much effort into being exactly what he needed of her that night. She was the picture-perfect tycoon’s wife. And yet that seemed to have angered him.
When the group of men Nikos was deep in conversation with paused for a moment Marnie squeezed his arm. The smile on her face was broad; only Nikos would be able to detect the dark emotions that powered it.
‘Excuse me a moment,’ she murmured, pulling her hand away from him.
He bent down and whispered in her ear. ‘Do you need something?’
‘Yes.’ She flashed her eyes at him in frustration, then encompassed his companions in her smile, knowing he wouldn’t argue in front of them. ‘Excuse me.’
She felt his eyes on her as she walked away, and just knowing that he was watching made her walk as though she hadn’t a care in the world. Her feet seemed to glide over the deck, despite the crowds that were thick on the ground.
It was a perfect night. Sultry even though it was late in the summer season, and clear. The breeze was warm and soft, providing comfort rather than chill. She wove her way to the edge of the ship, seeking space and solitude. The polite smile on her face and a faraway look in her eyes discouraged conversation, and when she put her back to the crowds and stared out at the view she was all but absenting herself from the festivities.
She stood like that for a long time, enjoying the privacy of her thoughts, until a hand on her shoulder caught her attention.
Expecting to see Nikos, she masked her features with an expression of bland uninterest and turned slowly.
But the man opposite her caused such a flurry of feeling inside of her that tears welled instantly in her eyes.
‘Anderson!’ She hugged Libby’s fiancé, her mind grappling with the question of why he was there even as she acknowledged how thrilled she was to see him. ‘Oh! What a surprise.’
‘I was hoping you’d be here.’ He grinned. ‘Nik wasn’t sure you’d want to come.’
A frown briefly flashed in her face as she remembered that these two men were still close friends. Anderson was the one who had told Nikos about her father’s dire situation, after all.
‘Congratulations on the wedding.’ He kissed her cheek, then grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. ‘To happily-ever-after, huh?’ He clinked his glass to hers, earning a smile from Marnie.
‘Indeed.’ She drank the champagne, watching the man who would have become her brother-in-law over the rim of her glass.
‘I wish I had been able to come to the wedding,’ he said, nudging his hip against the railing and effectively screening them from the other guests.
Marnie studied him thoughtfully. Did he know what a farce their marriage was? ‘I would have liked that,’ she said finally, earning a laugh from Anderson.
‘You sure? You sound ambivalent.’
She laughed, too. ‘Sorry. I’m just surprised to see you. I somehow forgot that you and Nikos were close.’
His smile was warm. ‘He’s my oldest friend.’
Her heart turned over in her chest. She changed the subject. ‘I haven’t seen you in a long time. You’ve been staying away from our house?’
He grimaced. ‘I’ve been meaning to visit. But...’
‘But?’ she prompted, a smile belying any accusation.
‘You know... I feel bad sometimes. Your parents look at me and see only Libby.’ His smile was thin. ‘I expect you know exactly what that’s like.’
She sipped her champagne again, and her voice was carefully wiped of feeling when she spoke. ‘It’s not the same. They look at me and see only my failings as compared to Libby.’
Anderson rubbed a hand over his chin. ‘They’re wrong to compare the two of you. There’s too many differences for it to make sense.’
Colour flashed in Marnie’s cheeks. ‘Thanks,’ she said, with a hint of sarcasm.
‘I wasn’t being offensive,’ he clarified quickly. ‘Libby used to laugh and say that you and she were chalk and cheese. But that you were her favourite of all the cheeses in the world.’
Marnie’s smile was nostalgic. ‘I used to tell her that she was cheese and I was chalk. Doesn’t that make more sense? She was sweet and more-ish and fair, and I’m a little...thin and brittle.’ Her laugh covered a lifetime of insecurity.
‘Don’t do that,’ Anderson said with frustration. ‘She wouldn’t want you to do that. She wasn’t vain and she wasn’t self-interested and she adored you. I know Arthur and Anne have always made you feel wanting, but that’s not a true reflection. You owe it to Libby not to perpetuate that silliness.’
Marnie bit back the comments that were filling her mind. It was all too easy to justify her sense of inferiority, but with Anderson she didn’t want to argue. ‘I’m glad to see you,’ she said finally.
‘And I’m thrilled you and Nikos worked everything out. I know he never got over you.’
Marnie’s eyes flew to Anderson’s, confusion obvious in her features. Was it possible that even Anderson didn’t know the true reason for their hasty wedding?
‘Don’t look so surprised,’ Anderson said, sipping his drink. ‘He might have played the part of bachelor to perfection but it was always you, Marnie. You’re why he did all this.’
She shook her head in silent rejection of the idea, but Anderson continued unchecked. ‘One night, not long after you guys broke up, he had far too much of my father’s Scotch and told me that he’d earn his fortune and then win you back.’
‘I can’t imagine Nikos saying that.’ But her heart was soaking in the words, buoying itself up with the hope that perhaps he did love her; that he had missed her.
‘Oh, he talked about you all night. How you would only ever be serious about a guy like me. A guy with land and a title. He was determined to prove himself to you before he came back and won you over.’ He laughed. ‘If you ask me, he went a little far. I mean...a million would have done, right?’
Her smile was lacking warmth. She focussed her gaze on the gentle undulations of the water beneath the boat, her mind absorbing this information. ‘It was never about money,’ she said gently.
‘Oh, I know that. I told him that a thousand times. But he didn’t get it.’ Anderson drained his champagne. ‘Until you see first-hand the uniquely messed-up way Arthur and Anne made you girls feel you can’t really understand a thing about you. Right?’
Startled, she spun to face him. Her breath was burning in her lungs and she wasn’t sure what to say.
‘You think you’re the only one who had them in your head? Libby almost didn’t agree to marry me because she knew how happy it would make them. She was so sick of living up to their expectations that she said she wanted desperately to do the wrong thing—just once.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ Marnie whispered, squeezing her eyes shut as she thought of Libby. ‘She was the golden girl, and I never thought that bothered her.’
‘It was a big mantle to wear,’ he said simply.
Marnie expelled a soft breath and looked away. The breeze drifted some of her hair loose and she absentmindedly reached for it, tucking it back in place. ‘I miss her so much,’ she said finally.
Anderson was quiet for so long that Marnie wasn’t sure he’d even heard her, or that she’d said the words aloud. Then, finally, he nodded and his voice cracked. ‘Me, too.’
She wrapped her arms around him spontaneously, knowing that he understood her grief. That even years after losing Libby he stood before her a man as bereft now as he had been then.
* * *
From a distance they looked like a couple, he thought. The perfect blue-blooded pair. She with her couture gown and her swan-like neck angled towards Anderson’s cheek. Her manicured hand resting on his hip, her flawless arm around his back.
His wife was beautiful, but in this environment, surrounded by Europe’s financial elite, she was showcased to perfection—because she was at home. She was completely comfortable, whereas he felt the prestige like a knife in his side.
‘If I did not trust you with my life I would be jealous of this little scene.’
Nikos’s accented voice sent shivers of sensual awareness down Marnie’s spine. She lifted away from Anderson, her eyes suspiciously moist. It caught Nikos’s attention instantly. He looked from his wife to his friend, a frown on his face and a chasm in his chest.
‘You are upset?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘No. This is my happy face.’
He sent her a warning look that was somewhat softened when he reached into his pocket and removed a cloth handkerchief. She took it with genuine surprise at the sweetness of the gesture, dabbing at the corners of her eyes so as not to ruin her eye make-up.
‘We were just reminiscing,’ Anderson said simply.
Though he was subdued, he appeared to have largely regained control of his emotions.
‘Your father was asking for you,’ Nikos said to his friend.
‘Bertram is here?’ Marnie asked, a smile shifting her lips as she thought of the elder statesman. It transformed her face in an expression of such delicate beauty that Nikos had to stifle a sharp intake of breath.
‘Yeah.’ Anderson extended a hand and shook Nikos’s. ‘But I suspect your groom just doesn’t want me monopolising you any longer.’
He winked at Marnie, obviously intending to make a swift departure.
She put a hand on his forearm to forestall him. ‘Are you in Greece much longer? Will you come for dinner?’
‘I’d love that,’ Anderson said honestly. ‘But we fly out tomorrow.’
Marnie’s smile was wistful. ‘Another time?’
‘Sure.’ He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, then winked at Nikos.
Alone with her husband, and the hundreds of other partygoers, Marnie felt her air of relaxation disappear. She reached for the railing, gripping it until her knuckles turned white. ‘Are you having a good time?’ she asked stiffly, her eyes seeking a fixed point on which to focus.
‘It is good business for me to be here,’ he said, lifting his broad shoulders carelessly.
‘I wouldn’t have thought your business required this sort of schmoozing.’
‘That is true,’ he said simply. ‘But I do not intend to grow complacent in light of my success.’
She nodded, adding that little soundbite to the dossier of information she’d been building on him: Nikos: V 2.0.
This Nikos was determined to prove himself to the world—or was Anderson right? Was it that he wanted to prove himself to her? To prove that he deserved her?
No, that couldn’t be it.
Had it not been for Arthur’s financial ruin, Nikos would never have reappeared in her life.
‘He might have played the part of a bachelor to perfection...’ Anderson had said, and it had been an enormous understatement. Nikos had dedicated himself to the single life with aplomb. She’d lost count of the number of women he’d been reputed to be dating. And even ‘dating’ was over-egging it somewhat.
The women never lasted long, but that didn’t matter. Each of those women had shared a part of Nikos that Marnie had been denied—a part that she’d denied herself.
Her eyes narrowed as she turned to study her husband. He’d followed her gaze and his eyes were trained on the mainland, giving her a moment to drink in his autocratic profile, the swarthy complexion and beautiful cheekbones that might well have been slashed from stone.
‘Do you see that light over there?’
She followed the direction he was pointing in, squinting into the distance. There was a small glow visible in the cliffs near the sea. ‘The hut?’ she asked.
‘Yes. It is a hut.’ His sneer was not aimed at her; it showed agreement. He pinned her with his gaze; it was hard like gravel. ‘That is where I spent the first eight years of my life.’
‘Oh!’ She resettled her attention on him, curiosity swelling in her chest, for Nikos had never opened up about his childhood even when they’d been madly in love. ‘Is it?’ She strained to pick out any details, but it was too far away. ‘What’s it like? Is it part of a town?’
‘A town? No. There were four huts when I was growing up.’ He gripped the railing tight. ‘Two rooms only.’
She didn’t want to say anything that might cause him to stop speaking. ‘Did you like it?’
‘Like it?’ He lifted his lips in a humourless smile. ‘It was a very free childhood.’
‘Oh?’
‘My father had a trawler. He came out here every day.’
‘Squid?’
He nodded. ‘Scampi, too.’
‘You said you lived there until you were eight. What happened?’
He tilted his head to face her, his expression derisive. ‘There was a storm. He died.’
‘Nikos!’ Sympathy softened her expression, but she saw immediately how unwelcome it was.
He shifted a little, indicating his desire to end the conversation.
‘I should have told you he’d be here,’ Nikos said only a moment later, surprising her with the lightning-fast change in conversation.
For a moment she didn’t comprehend who he was talking about.
‘It did not occur to me that Anderson would upset you.’
She drew her brows together in confusion. ‘He didn’t.’
‘The tears in your eyes would suggest otherwise.’
She opened her mouth in an expression of her bemusement. ‘This from the man who seems to live to insult me?’ The words escaped before she could catch them.
Nikos nodded slowly, as if accepting her charge even as his words sought to contradict it. ‘Hurting you... That is not intentional. It is not what I want.’
She blinked and spun away, turning her body to face the railing. ‘I can believe that.’ And that hurt so much more! Knowing he could inflict pain without even trying, without even being conscious of her feelings, simply demonstrated how little he thought of her feelings at all.
‘Do we have to stay long?’ she asked, doing her best to sound unconcerned when emotions were zipping through her.
‘No. Let’s go. Now.’
He trapped her hand in his much bigger palm and led her from the party. Several times people moved to grab his attention, but Nikos apparently had a one-track mind, and it involved getting them off the boat.
At his Ferrari, with the moon cresting high in the sky and the strains of the party muffled by distance, Nikos put his hands on her shoulders and spun her to face him. His eyes seemed to tunnel into the heart of her soul.
‘What is it I have done that’s insulted you?’
She knew she couldn’t deny it; after all, she’d just laid the charge at his feet. She shook her head, yet the words wouldn’t climb to her tongue.
‘Tell me, agape...’
‘Nothing. It’s fine.’ Her eyes didn’t meet his.
‘Liar!’ He groaned, crushing his mouth to hers.
His hands lifted, pulling at the pins that kept her hair in its chignon until they had all dropped to the ground in near-silent protest. He dragged his fingers through her hair, pulling at it and levering her face away.
His eyes bored into hers. ‘I was angry with you tonight. I was rude.’
A sob was filling her chest. She wouldn’t give in to it. ‘Why? What in the world could you have had to be angry about?’
Was that really her voice? With the exception of a slight tremor, she sounded so cool and in command! How was that possible when her knees were shaking and her heart was pounding?
‘This. You.’ He stepped backwards, as if to shake himself out of the hurricane of feelings. He pulled the door open and stared at her.
Marnie stared back. She wasn’t going to let this go just because he appeared to have decided the conversation was at an end.
‘What?’ she demanded, lifting a hand and splaying her fingers against his broad chest. ‘What about me? What did I do?’
‘Do?’ His head snapped back as if in silent revulsion. ‘You did nothing. You cannot help that this is who you are.’
Her heart was pounding so hard now that it was paining her. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said, with a soft determination that almost completely hid her wounds.
‘No? Allow me to clarify. You are Lady Marnie Kenington and you always will be. You are this dress. This party. This perfect face. You are cold and you are exquisitely untouchable. The girl I thought I loved all those years ago never existed, did she?’