by Sarah Morgan
‘Shipping. He owns a shipping company—a big one. Lots of ships.’
‘Don’t tell me—super-big ones? Why did you never tell me this before?’ Munching away, Vivien shook her head in disbelief. ‘This guy was multi-millionaire, wasn’t he?’
Kelly rubbed her foot on the threadbare carpet of her tiny flat. ‘I read somewhere he was a billionaire.’
‘Oh, right—well, who’s counting? What’s a few-hun-dred million between friends? So—don’t take this the wrong way—how did you meet him? I’ve been alive the same number of years as you and I’ve never met a single millionaire, let alone a billionaire. Some tips would be welcome.’
‘It was during my gap year. I trespassed on his private beach. I didn’t know it was private; I’d left my guide book somewhere and I was in a bit of a dream, looking at the view, not reading the signs.’ Misery oozed through her veins. ‘Can we talk about something else? It isn’t my favourite subject.’
‘Sure. We can talk about what you’re going to do with four-million dollars.’
‘I don’t know.’ Kelly gave a helpless shrug. ‘Pay for a psychiatrist to treat me for shock?’
‘Who bought the thing?’
Kelly looked at her blankly, worried that her brain appeared to have stalled. ‘Someone rich?’
Viven looked at her with exasperation. ‘And when do you hand it over?’
‘Some girl emailed me to say it would be collected in person tomorrow. I gave them the address of the school in case they turn out to be dodgy.’ She pressed her hand to the ring that she wore on a chain under her shirt and Vivien sighed.
‘You never take it off. You even sleep in the thing.’
‘That’s because I have a problem with my personal organisation,’ Kelly said in a small voice. ‘I’m afraid I might lose it.’
‘If you’re trying to hide behind the “I’m untidy” act, forget it. I know you’re untidy, but you wear the ring because you’re still stuck on him, and you’ve been stuck on him for four years. What made you suddenly decide to sell the ring, Kel? What happened? You’ve been acting awfully weird all week.’
Kelly swallowed hard and fiddled with the ring through her shirt. ‘I saw pictures of him with another woman,’ she said thickly. ‘Blonde, stick-thin—you know the type. The sort that makes you want to stop eating, until you realise that even if you stopped eating you still wouldn’t look like that.’ She sniffed, ‘I suddenly realised that keeping the ring was stopping me from moving on with my life. It’s crazy. I’m crazy.’
‘No, not any more. Finally you’re sane.’ Vivien sprang to her feet and flung her hair out of her eyes in a dramatic gesture. ‘You know what this means, don’t you?’
‘I need to pull myself together and forget about him?’
‘It means no more cheap pasta with sauce from a jar. Tonight we’re eating takeaway pizza with extra toppings, and you’re paying. Yay!’ Vivien reached for the phone. ‘Bring on the high life.’
Alekos Zagorakis stepped out of his black Ferrari and stared at the old Victorian building.
Hampton Park First School.
Of course she would have chosen to work with children. What else?
It had been the day he’d read in the press that she was planning on four children that he’d walked out on her.
With a grim smile that was entirely at his own expense, he scanned the building, automatically noticing the things that needed doing. The fence was torn in several places and plastic covered one section of the roof, presumably to prevent a leak. But the surroundings weren’t responsible for the ripple of tension that spread across his shoulders.
A bell rang, and less than a minute later a stream of children poured through the swing doors and into the playground, jostling and elbowing each other. A young woman followed the children out of the door, answering questions, refereeing arguments and gently admonishing when things grew out of hand. She was dressed in a simple black skirt, flat shoes and a nondescript shirt. Alekos didn’t give her a second glance. He was too busy looking for Kelly.
He studied the ancient buildings, deciding that his information must be wrong. Why would Kelly bury herself in a place like this?
He was about to return to his car when he heard a familiar laugh. His eyes followed the sound, and suddenly he found himself taking a closer look at the young teacher in the black skirt and sensible heels.
She bore no resemblance to the carefree teenager he’d met on the beach in Corfu, and he was about to dismiss her again when she tilted her head.
Alekos stared at her hair, fiercely repressed by a clip at the back of her head. If that clip was released and her hair fell forward…He frowned, mentally stripping off the drab garments so that he could see the woman concealed beneath.
Then she smiled, and he sucked in a sharp breath because it was impossible not to recognise that smile. It was wide, warm and generous, freely bestowed and genuine. Dragging his eyes from her mouth, Alekos took a second look at the sensible skirt. He could see now that she had the same long, long legs. Legs designed to make a man lose the thread of his conversation and his focus. Legs that had once been wrapped around his waist.
Shouts of excitement snapped him out of his perusal of her wardrobe. A group of boys had noticed the car, and instantly he regretted not having parked it round the corner out of sight. As they sprinted across the playground to the flimsy fence that separated the school from the outside world, Alekos stared at them as another man might stare at a dangerous animal.
Three little heads stared at him and then the car.
‘Wow—cool car.’
‘Is it a Porsche? My dad says the best car is a Porsche.’
‘When I grow up, I’m going to have one like this.’
Alekos had no idea what to say to them so he stood still, frozen by his own inadequacy as they rattled the fence, small fingers curling between the wire as they stared and admired.
He saw her head turn as she checked anxiously on her charges. Of course, she would notice instantly when one of her flock had wandered from safety. She was that sort of person. A people person. She was messy, scatty, noisy and caring. And she wouldn’t have greeted a group of children with silence.
She saw the car first and Alekos watched as the colour fled her face, the sudden pallor of her skin accentuating the unusual sapphire-blue of her eyes.
Obviously she didn’t know any other men who drove a Ferrari, he thought grimly. The fact that she was shocked to see him increased his anger.
What had she expected, that he’d sit by and watch the ring—the ring he’d put on her finger—sold to the highest bidder?
Across that stretch of nondescript tarmac, that school playground that was no one’s idea of a romantic venue for a reunion, wide blue eyes met fierce black.
The sun came out from beyond a cloud, sending a spotlight of bright gold onto her shining head. It reminded him of the way she’d looked that afternoon on his beach in Corfu. She’d been wearing a miniscule, turquoise bikini and a pretty, unselfconscious smile.
With no desire to climb aboard that train of thought, Alekos dragged his mind back to the present.
‘Boys!’ Her voice was melting chocolate with hints of cinnamon—smooth with a hint of spice. ‘Don’t climb the fence! You know it’s dangerous.’
Alekos felt the thud of raw emotion in his gut. Four years ago she would have hurled herself across the playground with the enthusiasm of a puppy and thrown herself into his arms.
The fact that she was now looking at him as if he’d escaped from a tiger reserve added an extra boost to his rocketing tension-levels.
Alekos looked at the boy nearest to him, the need for information unlocking his tongue. ‘Is she your teacher?’
‘Yes, she’s our teacher.’ Despite the warning, the boy jammed the toe of his shoe in the wire fence and tried to climb up. ‘She doesn’t look strict, but if you do something wrong—pow!’ He slammed his fist into his palm and Alekos felt a stab of shock.
‘Are you kidding?’ The boy collapsed with laughter at the thought. ‘She won’t even squash a spider. She catches them in a glass and lifts them out of the classroom. She never even shouts.’
‘You said “pow”.’
‘Miss Jenkins has a way of squashing you with a look. Pow!’ The boy shrugged. ‘She makes you feel bad if you’ve done something wrong. Like you’ve let her down. But she’d never hurt anyone. She’s non-violent.’
Non-violent. Miss Jenkins.
Alekos inhaled sharply; so, she wasn’t married. She didn’t yet have the four children she wanted.
Only now that the question was answered did he acknowledge that the possibility had been playing on his mind.
She crossed the playground towards him as if she were being dragged by an invisible rope. It was obvious that, given the chance, she would have run in the opposite direction. ‘Freddie, Kyle, Colin.’ She addressed the three boys in a firm tone that left no doubt about her abilities to manage a group of high-spirited children, ‘Come away from the fence.’
There was a clamour of conversation and he noticed that she answered their questions, instead of hushing them impatiently as so many adults did. And the children clearly adored her.
‘Have you seen the car, Miss Jenkins? It’s soo cool. I’ve only ever seen one in a picture.’
‘It’s just a car. Four wheels and an engine. Colin, I’m not telling you again.’ Turning her head, she looked at Alekos, her smile completely false. ‘How can I help you?’
She’d always been hopeless at hiding her feelings, and he read her as easily now as he had four years ago.
She was horrified to see him, and Alekos felt his temper burn like a jet engine.
‘Feeling guilty, agape mou?’
‘Guilty?’
‘You don’t seem pleased to see me,’ he said silkily. ‘I wonder why.’
Two bright spots of colour appeared on her cheeks and her eyes were suddenly suspiciously bright. ‘I have nothing to say to you.’
He should have greeted that ingenuous remark with the appropriate degree of contempt, but the ring had somehow faded in his mind, and now he was thinking something else entirely. Something hot, dangerous and primitive that only ever came into his head when he was with her.
Their eyes locked and he knew she was thinking the same thing. The moment held them both captive, and then she looked away, her cheeks as fiercely pink as they had been white a few moments earlier. She was treating him as if she didn’t know why he was here. As if they hadn’t once been intimately acquainted. As if there wasn’t a single part of her body that he didn’t know.
A tiny voice piped up. ‘Is he your boyfriend, miss?’
‘Freddie Harrison, that is an extremely personal question!’ Flustered, she urged the children away from the fence with a movement of her hand. ‘This is Alekos Zagorakis, and he is not my boyfriend. He is just someone I knew a long time ago.’
‘A friend, miss?’
‘Um, yes, a friend.’ The word was dragged from her and the children looked suddenly excited.
‘Miss Jenkins has a boyfriend, Miss Jenkins has a boyfriend…’ the chant increased the tension in her eyes.
‘Friend is not the same as boyfriend, Freddie.’
‘Of course it’s not the same thing.’ One of the boys snorted. ‘If it’s a boyfriend, you have sex, stupid.’
‘Miss, he said the sex word and he called me stupid. You said no one was to call anyone stupid!’
She dealt with the quarrel skilfully and dispatched the children to play before turning back to Alekos. Glancing quickly over her shoulder to check that she couldn’t be overheard, she stepped closer to the fence. ‘I cannot believe you had the nerve to come here after four years.’ Every part of her was shaking, her hands, her knees, her voice. ‘How could you be so horribly, hideously insensitive? If it weren’t for the fact the children are watching, I’d punch you—which is probably why you came here instead of somewhere private. You’re scared I’d hurt you. What are you doing here?’
‘You know why I’m here. And you’ve never punched anyone in your life, Kelly.’ It was one of the things that had drawn him to her. Her gentleness had been an antidote to the ruthless, cut-throat business-world he inhabited.
‘There’s always a first time, and this might well be it.’ She lifted her hand to her chest and pressed it there, as if she were checking that her heart was still beating. ‘Just get it over with, will you? Say what you have to say and go.’
Distracted by the press of her breasts against her plain white shirt, Alekos frowned. It was virtually buttoned to the throat; it was perfectly decent. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, about what she was wearing that could explain the volcanic response of his libido.
Infuriated with both himself and her, his tone was sharper than usual. ‘Don’t play games with me, because we both know who will win. I’ll eat you for breakfast.’ It was the wrong analogy. The moment the words left his mouth, he had an uncomfortably clear memory of her lying naked on his bed, the remains of breakfast scattered over the sheets as he took his pleasure in an entirely different way.
The hot colour in her cheeks told him that she was remembering exactly the same incident.
‘You don’t eat breakfast,’ she said hoarsely. ‘You just drink that vile, thick Greek coffee. And I don’t want to play anything with you. You don’t play by the same rules as anyone else. You—you’re a snake!’
Struggling with his physical reaction to her, Alekos stared down into her wide eyes and realised in a blinding flash that she genuinely didn’t know he was the one who had bought the ring.
With a cynical laugh at his own expense, he dragged his hand through his hair and swore softly to himself in Greek.
That was what happened, he reminded himself grimly, when he forgot that Kelly didn’t think like other people. His skill at thinking ahead, at second guessing people, was one of the reasons for his phenomenal business success, but with Kelly it was a skill that had failed him. She didn’t think the way other women thought. She’d surprised him, over and over again. And she was surprising him now. Seeing the sheen of tears in her eyes, he sucked in a breath, realising with a blinding flash of intuition that she hadn’t sold the ring to send him a message. She’d sold the ring because he’d hurt her.
In that single moment, Alekos knew that he’d made a grave error of judgement. He should not have come here in person. It wasn’t easy on him, and it wasn’t fair on her. ‘You have four-million dollars of my money in your bank account,’ he said calmly, resolving to get this finished as quickly as possible for both their sakes. He watched as shock turned her eyes a darker shade of blue. ‘I’ve come for my ring.’
Chapter Two
KELLY stood in the classroom, gulping in air.
Alekos had bought the ring?
No, no, no! That wasn’t possible. Was it? Thumping her fist to her forehead, she tried to think straight, wondering why it hadn’t occurred to her that it could be him.
Because billionaires didn’t trawl eBay, that was why. If she’d thought for a moment that he would find out about it, she would never have sold it.
As the full consequences of her actions hit her, Kelly gave a low moan.
Instead of purging him from her life, she’d brought him back into it.
When she’d seen him standing at the fence, she’d almost passed out. For one crazy moment she’d thought he was there to tell her he’d changed his mind. That he’d made a mistake. That he was sorry.
Sorry.
Kelly covered her hand with her mouth and stifled a hysterical laugh. When had Alekos ever said sorry? Had he even mentioned the tiny fact that he hadn’t turned up at the wedding? No. There hadn’t been a hint of apology in his indecently handsome face.
‘Are you all right, miss?’ A small voice cut through her panic. ‘You look sort of weird and you ran in here like someone was after you.’
‘After
me?’ Kelly licked dry lips. ‘No.’
‘You look like you’re hiding.’
‘I’m not hiding.’ Her voice was high-pitched and she stared at her class without seeing them. Why, oh why, had she run away? Now it was going to look as though she really cared, and she didn’t want him thinking that. She wanted him to think that she was doing fine and that breaking up with him had done nothing but improve her life. That selling her ring had been part of de-cluttering, or something.
Kelly tried to breathe steadily. She’d spent four years dreaming about seeing him again. She’d lain in bed at night imagining bumping into him—a feat which had really challenged the imagination, given that he moved in a different stratosphere. But never, not once, had she actually thought it might happen. Certainly not here, without warning.
‘Is there a fire, Miss Jenkins?’ A pair of worried eyes stared at her—little Jessie Prince who always worried about everything, from spelling tests to terrorists. ‘You were running. You always tell us we’re not supposed to run unless there’s a fire, Miss Jenkins.’
‘That’s right.’ Fire, and men you never wanted to see again. ‘And I wasn’t running, I was, er, walking very quickly. Power walking. It’s good for fitness.’ Was he still outside the school? What if he waited for her? ‘Open your English books. Turn to page twelve and we’ll carry on where we left off. We’re writing our own poem about the summer holidays.’ Maybe she should have just handed him the ring, but that would have meant revealing the fact she was wearing it round her neck, and there was no way she was giving him the satisfaction of knowing what it meant to her. The only thing she had left was her pride.
There was a rustle of paper, a hum of low chatter and then a loud commotion at the back of the class.
‘Ow! He punched me, miss!’
Kelly lifted her hand to her forehead and breathed deeply. Not now. Discipline problems were the last thing she needed. Her head throbbed and she felt sick. She desperately needed space to think, but if there was one thing teaching didn’t give you it was space. ‘Tom, come to the front of the class, please.’ She waited patiently while he dragged his feet towards her sulkily, and then crouched down in front of the little boy. ‘You don’t just go around punching people. It’s wrong. I want you to say sorry.’