IT WAS NEARLY one in the morning when Chloe got back to her flat.
She rarely received a call on her landline these days, but the red light on her answer machine was flashing, showing her it was full of messages.
She ignored it, as she had already spoken to everyone who mattered, and her mobile phone lay switched off in her bag. She massaged her temples with her fingers to alleviate the tension she could feel gathering behind her eyes.
She could feel the exhaustion bearing down on her like a lead weight, but her mind remained active, not in a productive, problem-solving way, but more of a febrile, hamster-on-a-wheel way.
She kicked off her heels, conscious of a sense of anticlimax. She had been building up to tonight for days, not quite admitting how nervous she was about it, and now it was over and it couldn’t have gone better, she should be feeling elated. But instead she felt...oddly flat, and not at all the inspiring figure that people had lined up to tell her she was this evening.
Easing the beautiful cape off her shoulders, she walked through to her bedroom, where she hung it on a hanger before covering it in a protective bag. Hopefully a few people would bid for it at the charity auction her sister had planned for next month.
When Chloe had suggested the timing might not be good for Sabrina to organise an auction, she had quipped, ‘Trust me, I’m a doctor. I’ll be feeling fine by then.’
As she stripped off the beautiful red gown and ran a bath for herself, she debated having a nightcap, but on balance decided against it, worried it might compete with the champagne she’d drunk earlier that evening.
Lighting the scented candles around the bath, she eased herself into the sweet-smelling water and lay there drifting, feeling deliciously decadent. Slowly the tension began to ease out of her shoulders.
Then the doorbell rang.
Her eyes peered through the open bathroom doorway to the clock on her bedroom wall, and she squinted to make out the time. Who on earth could that be in the middle of the night?
Everyone had warned her to expect some press intrusion after tonight and she thought that was realistic but this was ridiculous. It was getting on for two a.m.!
She decided to ignore it.
But her late-night caller was not giving up, and Chloe lay there, teeth gritted as the tension climbed back into her shoulders. And then the answer to her earlier question popped into her head.
Who did knock on doors at this time of night? The police with bad news.
Leaping out of the water, her pulse racing in panic and still dripping wet, she fought her way into a thick towelling robe and ran to the front door, leaving a trail of wet footprints in her wake. By the time she reached the door her imagination was cranked up to full volume and she was on her fourth awful possible scenario!
Cinching the belt a little tighter, she checked the safety chain was fastened and, as an extra precaution, picked up a heavy pale wood Dala horse from the console table and opened the door a crack.
Her late-night callers weren’t wearing uniform and it was one visitor, singular, although she couldn’t make out who it was.
Caution replaced dread, though on the plus side if this was a homicidal maniac standing there the walls were very thin in the apartments. Someone would be bound to hear her being murdered, and hopefully report it to the police.
‘My neighbour is a black belt in karate!’ she called through the crack.
She could only see a sliver of the man standing outside her door in the communal hallway, but as he stepped closer the partial view was more than sufficient to make the colour in her face recede, leaving her dramatically pale, and then return as quickly, dusting her cheeks with rose pink as she stood there frozen.
Her first thought was that she had fallen asleep and this was a new version of her recurring dream. In all the other versions, Nik had been wearing black swimming shorts and nothing else, not a dinner jacket that hung open and a white dress shirt that was pulled open at the neck and seemed to have several buttons missing. There were the remains of a bow tie sticking out of his breast pocket too; he really did not look his usual immaculate self.
‘Hello.’
This Nik, with dark shadows under his eyes and stubble on his chin, still looked more sexy than any man had a right to be.
‘I need to lie down,’ she mumbled, thinking, And then I need to wake up!
‘Can I come in first?’ His mild tone was at stark variance to the glitter in his eyes as he stared at her.
‘I thought you were the police! I thought Sabrina had lost the baby or my mum had fallen and broken her hip, or my dad had—’
‘Sorry I scared you.’
‘You can’t really be here because you don’t know where I live. I moved.’ She’d rented out her old place as part of the entire new change she had decided to adopt on her return from Greece.
‘Then you should consider going ex-directory, you know.’ He dragged a hand across his hair and sounded tired as he added gruffly, ‘Let me in, Chloe, please.’
‘All right.’ It took her longer than it should to remove the chain. Her hands, she noticed, viewing the phenomenon with a strange out-of-body objectivity, were shaking violently.
Finally she released it.
She stepped back as Nik walked in; he was real after all. Dreams didn’t smell this good, carrying with them the scent of outdoors underlain with a faint scent of whisky.
‘Beware Greeks bearing gifts,’ she murmured.
Especially tall, lean, gorgeous Greeks with pride etched onto every inch of a classically perfect profile and with explosive tension locked into every muscle.
He held out his empty hands and turned them over. ‘I don’t have any. I wasn’t sure if you’d even let me in.’
‘I wasn’t sure you were real,’ she countered huskily. Then, shaking her head to clear the static buzz, she tried to inject a little normality into what was a very surreal situation.
‘Do you know what time it is?’ She flicked back the hair from her face, the soggy ends dusting her cheek with dots of moisture.
‘I couldn’t wait until morning,’ he said simply.
Struggling to convey a calm she was a million miles from feeling, Chloe met his eyes. The combustible quality in his heavy-lidded stare dried her throat and made her heart thud harder against her ribcage. She cinched the belt even tighter, suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was naked underneath her robe.
‘Why are you here, Nik...?’ Her eyes fluttered wider. ‘Has something happened to Tatiana... Eugenie...?’
‘No, they’re fine,’ he soothed immediately.
Panic subsiding, Chloe let out a relieved little sigh and arched a brow, folding her arms in an unconsciously protective gesture over her chest as she asked again, ‘So why are you here?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me...?’ He stopped and spread his hands. ‘Tonight, you... No, you don’t have to tell me. I know I’ve got no right to encourage your confidence in me.’ He was the last person she’d turn to for support.
‘You saw it on television?’
‘I was there,’ he said heavily. The pride he had felt for what she’d done was still there but overlaying it now was apprehension for her future. For every voice raised in admiration there would be another writing crude, cruel insults, but he’d be there for her, regardless.
She refused to jump to conclusions. ‘Where?’
‘At the theatre, for the bravery awards.’
The muscles along his jaw tightened as he realised with a sudden startling insight what she really wanted. She didn’t want to be protected from people; she wanted to be released to be the brave, beautiful heroine she was. She might make those who cared for her sick with worry on her behalf, but it was a price they’d have to pay.
Nik knew with a total certainty that he wanted to be one of them, even though the idea of anyone hurting her by word or action left a sour taste in his mouth, and rage in his heart.
All he could do was be there for her—if she’d let him.
‘Oh.’ What else could she say? ‘You didn’t stay around for the party, then.’ Her attempt at levity fell flat in the face of his grim-featured non-reaction.
For a big man Nik moved very fast.
The weight of his body made her take a staggering step back as he framed her face with his hands and turned it up to him.
‘It was the bravest thing I have ever seen,’ he rasped in a throaty whisper. ‘Can you ever forgive me? I don’t want to change you, I swear, but I’ll change who I am. I’ll—’
‘I like you the way you are...’
His kiss silenced her. When he finally lifted his head his forefinger replaced his lips. ‘Let me speak without putting words in my mouth...’ She nodded dazedly, and he took his finger away. ‘Tonight I saw the bravest, most beautiful woman I know...do the bravest, most beautiful thing.’
Her eyelids lowered over the haze of tears that shimmered in the swimming azure depths. ‘I was scared stiff,’ she admitted. ‘I thought you’d be angry with me.’
The expression drawn on his chiselled face was one of astonished incredulity. ‘I am angry.’
Her head began to lower but he placed a finger under her chin and drew her face inexorably up to his. ‘But not with you, agape mou. Never with you. I’m furious with myself for wasting so much time!’ he rasped out throatily. ‘I know I have a problem with PTSD, and I’ll get help for that. I might never be the man you deserve but, so help me, I’ll do whatever it takes, so long as you take me back?’
She blinked in shock as she stared at him. ‘Did I ever really have you?’
The shaky laugh dragged from her throat cut off abruptly as she encountered the hard, hungry, slightly unfocused look in his stare.
‘From that first moment I met you, I think, but I was too stupid, too much of a stubborn, proud fool to realise it.’ He dragged a hand through his hair. ‘I really don’t have any pride left, Chloe, and there hasn’t been a day gone by since that morning in Greece that I haven’t hated myself for making you think I was ashamed of your scars.’
She put up a hand and cupped his cheek. ‘I see now that wasn’t the case.’
‘It’s my scars I’m ashamed of,’ he admitted heavily. ‘Everything you said to me that morning was absolutely right. I knew it then, but I just couldn’t admit it. Now I’m asking you to take me, Chloe, scars and all, for better or for worse... I love you, agape mou, and I need you.’
He took a deep shuddering breath. ‘I know I walked away from you—twice—but I promise that will not happen ever again. Let me into your life and I will always let you be you. I don’t want to stifle you. I want to watch you fly.’
With a little sigh, she laid her head on his chest, her eyes squeezing shut as she felt his strong arms close around her. She stood there listening to the thud of his heartbeat, feeling the weeks of loneliness slip away.
Finally she lifted her head. ‘I love you too, Nik.’
The kiss he gave her went on and on, his hungry passion leaving her feeling limp yet very happy when they finally came up for air.
She stroked his face lovingly. ‘I feel as though a weight has been lifted from me the last few weeks.’
He took her face between his hands. ‘I love you, I love every part of you, and, yes, I admit I did want you to reconsider the plastic surgery, but not,’ he emphasised, ‘for me. For you...’
‘I realise that now,’ she admitted.
‘I don’t know if you’ve fully considered this,’ he began tentatively, ‘but what you did tonight will make you the target of—’
‘Internet trolls and other low-life, yes, I know.’ She dismissed them with an impatient click of her fingers.
It took a few moments for the information to filter through to his brain...but when it did his hands fell from her face in astonishment.
‘Of course I know that; I’d need to live on Mars not to know,’ she said with a rueful smile.
‘And you still did it.’ He shook his head and gave a laugh. ‘You really are the most incredible woman,’ he declared with husky pride.
‘Is there stuff out there already?’
He nodded.
‘We’re not going to read it,’ she declared.
‘I think that is a good move.’
He cleared his throat.
‘Nik, why are you looking shifty?’ she demanded.
Without a word he picked up his phone, scrolled down the screen and handed it to her. ‘There are some other things out there you should probably know about.’
With a puzzled frown Chloe took it and began to read, her expression changing from bemusement to anger as she progressed. ‘Oh, my God, who did this? Do you know who the source is? It has to be someone close to you to know all these details. It’s a gross invasion of privacy!’ she declared indignantly.
‘Me!’
Her eyes flew wide. It made no sense. Nik was an intensely private person so why would he feed this story about himself to a journalist? ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I gave this story, this evening. You made me so proud tonight, seeing how courageous you were, not hiding in any sense of the word... You were marvellous and it made me feel completely ashamed of myself. You were right: I’ve been hiding like a coward. Your name is going to be out there all over the media, and I knew I couldn’t stop that, but I could show some solidarity so... I decided to join you and—who knows?—reading about what happened to me might even help someone else. I’m definitely going to do something about it, I promise you.’
‘I know you will.’
‘I wanted to prove to you that you could give me your heart and I would keep it safe and I am hoping that you would accept mine.’
Chloe’s breath caught in her throat.
‘And for the record I don’t want to change a single thing about you.’
Tears pouring down her cheeks, Chloe flung herself at him, sobbing with sheer joy, and he swung her up into his arms.
Eyes locked on his, she took his hand and placed it on her heart. ‘I know you’ll keep it safe.’
Three months later
‘Another builder has quit,’ Nik said, wandering into the office where Chloe was working. ‘At this rate we’ll never move into the house on Spetses. You have to do something about her.’
‘Me!’ Chloe echoed. ‘I don’t think so. She is your grandmother.’
‘She is counting nails! We are in the middle of multimillion-pound renovation of a classic sixteenth-century mansion and my grandmother is counting nails.’
‘She is thrifty.’
‘She is insane, and you know it.’
‘She’s your grandmother...’ she reminded him, coming around the table and looping her arms around his neck. Nik kissed her hard.
‘At this rate we’re not going to be able to move in after the wedding.’
Chloe shrugged. ‘I don’t care if I start married life in a shoe box, so long as it’s with you.’
‘Now you tell me, after I’ve already had to cope with planning officers from hell, contractors who never answer their phones and, of course, let’s not forget Yaya.’
‘She’s excited about us being her new neighbours...well, for some of the time.’ Nik had not given up his London house.
‘It will all be worth it in the end, you’ll see, waking up to the smell of pines and the sound of the sea,’ she said dreamily.
‘So long as I can see you when I wake up, I don’t care. Which reminds me, have you got the shortlist for the new team leader for the charity? I don’t want my wife—’
Her eyes widened as she pressed a finger to his lips and looked over her shoulder. ‘Hush! You’ll give the game away! Imagine how upset everyone will be if they find out we already got married after they’ve been to so much trouble to arrange this massive wedding.’ Somehow she didn’t think that people would be that understanding about their impulsive elopement.
He looked at her, eyes glowing with pride and love. ‘I couldn’t wait to make you my wife. I just wish I saw more of you.’
‘I know,’ she admitted, stroking his cheek with a loving hand. ‘But who knew that the charity would take off this way? We’re interviewing for a team leader next week and there are some very strong candidates.’ She squeezed his bicep and pretended to faint. ‘Obviously not as strong as you, darling.’
Their kiss might have gone on longer if Nik’s ninety-five-year-old grandmother, all four feet five of her, hadn’t suddenly appeared. ‘A man came who said he was a building inspector. In my day there were no such thing; we just build a house with no paper.’
‘The good old days,’ Nik murmured. ‘So where is the building inspector, Yaya?’
‘Gone. I told him my grandson and his woman were busy making babies, and if they weren’t doing that, then they should be.’ Chortling at her own joke, she shuffled out of the room.
‘Well, they do say that with age comes wisdom.’ Nik extended a hand towards the door through which his grandmother had just exited. ‘How about it, wife? Do you fancy a little baby making?’
‘Only if you lock the door. If Yaya walks in on us, I might be scarred for life...’ As the unintentional play on words hit home she released a loud laugh.
Nik felt pride swell in his chest once more. His wife laughed when others might weep. She had a gift for living life to its utmost, and looking at the world through her eyes had finally brought him the peace he’d never thought he’d feel again.
‘Have my children, Chloe.’
Her throat closed up with sheer happiness. ‘It’s a big house, Nik, and there are lots of bedrooms to fill.’
‘So maybe we should get started.’
‘You read my mind!’
* * * * *