by Lynne Graham
His lean, dark face hardened, his strong jawline squaring. ‘Of course it matters to me. But one cannot live one’s whole life by rigid rules—’
‘Particularly not when they conflict with what Giannis Petrakos wants?’ Maddie dared. ‘There are good reasons for the rules I live by.’
Giannis studied her with glittering golden eyes. ‘I want you more than I’ve wanted any woman for a very long time. Walking away wasn’t an option.’
‘Let’s not exaggerate my supposed attraction,’ Maddie cut in rawly, a pain as sharp as a knife twisting through her. ‘Obviously it’s only sex, because my personal appeal won’t prevent you from marrying someone else. Yet you talked about me not knowing how to behave? Don’t you think I had the right to know I was just a casual fling? A little bit on the side of the main event? If you had had any respect for me at all, you wouldn’t have treated me like this!’
‘You’re wrong about that. There was an explosive attraction. Nor do I think that self-denial makes anyone a better person.’ With that ringing rejoinder, Giannis went into the dressing room and pulled out fresh clothing. ‘We’ll discuss this when you’ve calmed down. I consider arguments a waste of valuable energy.’
‘And walking out the ultimate escape hatch,’ Maddie told him tightly.
That incendiary comment brought Giannis back into view, his tailored chinos still unbuttoned at his lean waist, his bronzed hair-roughened chest still bare. He refused to consider the rights and wrongs. What was done was done. But he was determined not to lose her. ‘I don’t do escape hatches.’
‘It doesn’t matter. Just arrange for me to get home as soon as possible.’ She tilted up her chin and drew on every ounce of her pride to hide her pain. ‘I don’t mind having to sit around the airport for hours and wait for a flight either.’
‘This is crazy. Why should you leave? It’s nonsense to say that what we have is casual,’ Giannis insisted forcefully. ‘I want you in my life—’
‘Well, I think I can safely say that this is one of those very rare occasions when you don’t get what you want.’ Green eyes glittering with furious condemnation, Maddie surveyed him.
‘I won’t let you leave.’
‘You have no choice.’ Maddie yanked out her overnight bag and devoted her attention to packing the few items she had brought from London. She hated him, but she was terrified that the agony of picturing him in another woman’s arms would still kill her by inches. She had to keep busy. Activity and the need to think of practicalities were the only things capable of keeping her sane.
Giannis watched her piling her possessions into an untidy heap. He did not do emotional confrontations, he reminded himself doggedly. He did not do emotions, full-stop. He had never been into love and promises or, for that matter, stories of happily-ever-after. But he knew that she believed in all of those things, and that he had hurt her. He would give her the time and the space to quieten down. He did not believe that she would just walk away from him.
An hour later, Hamid informed him that Maddie was in the salon with her luggage. Giannis stared at the computer screen and realised that he had done no work during that time.
Clad in a simple white shirt and denim skirt, with her glorious hair confined by a band at the nape of her neck, she was standing by the window.
‘I realise that you’re upset, but there is such a thing as the art of compromise,’ Giannis drawled softly.
‘Giannis…’ Maddie whispered in jagged interruption. ‘Compromise would only be another word for you using me, and I’m not a glutton for punishment. But I have decided that everything that’s happened isn’t entirely your fault. I have to take a share of the blame too.’
His ebony brows pleated. ‘Meaning?’
Maddie wanted to tell him about Suzy, because she was convinced that this would be the last time she ever saw him. ‘For you to understand, I have to go back nine years in time to when I first saw you. I was fourteen years old.’
Giannis was intrigued. ‘The first time? How? Where?’
‘You visited my twin sister in a children’s hospice.’
Disconcertion made him frown. ‘A hospice?’
Her generous mouth compressed. ‘Her name was Suzy…and, no, you didn’t notice me on either visit. I was just one of the admiring crowd round the tea trolley. My sister had leukaemia and not much time left. A fortnight later you returned and brought her favourite pop pin-up to visit her. She was overjoyed. He was her hero, and that day you became mine for doing it for her.’
Giannis was astonished by what she was telling him. He too had lost a sibling as a teenager, but that was something he never discussed. Furthermore, what she said had cut through even his tough shell and drawn blood. He was her hero and that day you became mine. Ten words, and every one the equivalent of a spear in the guts, Giannis conceded grimly. ‘Your sister—Suzy—died?’
Her beautiful green eyes sad, Maddie nodded.
‘I’m sorry. Over the years I’ve visited hundreds of children. I’m afraid I don’t remember her,’ he admitted.
‘It’s long time ago. I didn’t expect you to. I just wanted you to know that, even though everything has gone wrong between us on a personal level, I’ll always be grateful for the fact that you made my sister so happy.’
‘I don’t want you to be grateful, pedhi mou,’ Giannis breathed in a roughened undertone. ‘Gratitude in that field is the one thing I have never sought from anyone.’
‘But I hope it explains why I acted so stupidly when I finally got the chance to speak to you. I had this false picture of you—a silly, immature image. I’m sure I gave you the wrong impression.’
His gilded bronze eyes darkened and screened. ‘Theos mou…I don’t want to hear this.’
‘I must go.’ Maddie would not allow herself to look at him again. Hamid had already told her that the heli-pilot was waiting to fly her to the airport. She would not allow herself to drag out their final meeting. Giannis had made her weak, but she was determined to be strong and make a dignified exit.
‘You did not give me the wrong impression,’ Giannis asserted, his accent very thick. ‘I saw you and the deed was done. The hunter’s instinct is a powerful one, and the more you resisted me, the more I desired you. I am sorry that I hurt you. But think long and hard before you turn your back on what we share. That happiness is not easily found.’
‘But it was fool’s gold,’ she responded, with a bitterness she had to battle to conceal. ‘And it turned to dross in the light of day.’
Dark golden eyes bleak, Giannis watched the helicopter take off. His big, powerful frame taut with frustration, he tossed back a brandy. His stubborn jawline clenched. Her departure had unleashed uncomfortable reactions within him. His resistance to her climbed in direct proportion to that disturbing knowledge, because he disliked the sense that he was not fully in control. Perhaps it was fortunate that he would not see her for a while. After all, he was not a hero, and he had never suffered from the delusion that he might be. He thought it was just typical of Madeleine Conway that she only wanted a guy who was a bloody hero!
She had storybook ideals—fantasy expectations. His conscience, never the most active part of his psyche, creaked into action to remind him that she had believed he was single and unattached. He remembered how gutted she had been. He had behaved like a bastard, he acknowledged unwillingly. He had taken sexual advantage of a starry-eyed virgin who had evidently seen him in much the same light as an infatuated teenager. He recalled the shine in Maddie’s eyes when she’d looked at him that first day in his office. He wondered exactly what he would have to do to bring that shine back, and he did not doubt his ability to achieve that end. How was it his fault that other women had asked so little from him that he had become spoilt? Even a little lazy and arrogant?
While Maddie had values that he admired—even if living with them was a distinct challenge for him—she also had a lot to learn. Krista was not a negotiable element in his life, he reasoned. He had chose
n Krista to be his wife, and he was not a changeable man. The only vacancy available was that of mistress. There were strict boundaries between his public life and that which he led in private. Maddie would have to understand and accept it. He would give her the chance to adjust to the concept of compromise. He refused to consider what he would do if she proved stubborn.
After a lengthy delay at the airport, Maddie returned to London and a grey wet morning. She felt the loss of bright sunlight almost as much as the loss of Giannis. He’d had her flown back to London on a Petrakos jet and, mindful of the crew, she had felt obliged to stay dry-eyed. Nemos had carried her bag right to the door of her bedsit, and even put the key in the lock for her. When the door had shut behind her she’d thought how hopelessly dark and drab her rented room seemed.
She was quick to remind herself that this was her real world. Had she resisted temptation, as all her instincts had urged, she would not be feeling as though someone had forcibly torn her in two.
But at least she now understood why her time in Morocco had felt unreal. How could it have felt like anything more serious or durable? Her love affair had just been a casual sexual intrigue to a Greek billionaire for whom one woman was clearly never going to be enough. He had picked her because she had been so amazingly free with her favours in his office. Had she paused to ask him then if he was a single man? No, she had not. So it would be hypocritical to blame him for the entire débâcle. Having torn up the rulebook of how she lived her life, it seemed she was now paying the price for being free and easy.
The next day she was wakened by the delivery of a magnificent bouquet. She would not allow herself to read the card and, although the waste of such beauty brought tears to her eyes, she dumped the flowers.
Feed a cold and starve a fever, her grandmother had often said, and Maddie knew she had a fever that required brutal discouragement. She refused to wallow in the belief that she loved Giannis. How could she have loved someone she hardly knew? She had to get over him and do it quickly. But the craving for him nagged at her like a constant pain. She did not know how to kill the terrible bone-deep longing just to see his lean, dark face one more time. Her peace of mind was gone as well. How would she ever forgive herself for the mistakes she had made? The mistakes she had then excused so that she could go on making them with him? Her self-esteem was at rock bottom.
Keen to get back to work, and even more eager to earn some money, she had already let the employment agency know that she was available again. Luckily she had to work at the supermarket that night. At the end of her shift she emerged wearily for the walk home.
A limo pulled in ahead of her, the chauffeur stepping out to open the passenger door for her. ‘Please go away!’ she hissed, praying that none of her co-workers were behind her.
But the limo followed her home, and she was on the stairs when Nemos appeared, carrying a large wicker hamper. ‘Nemos…please,’ she muttered tiredly. ‘I don’t want this.’
He set the hamper down at her door. ‘Mr Petrakos sent us to pick you up from the store and deliver this.’
‘Is he still in Morocco?’ she heard herself ask.
‘Athens…on business.’
Maddie went red, because she knew she wasn’t practising what she had preached to Giannis or herself. She shouldn’t have asked; where Giannis was and what he might be doing was nothing to do with her any more. At her urging, Nemos took the hamper away again.
She slept badly that night, and woke up at dawn. The smell of someone frying food had drifted into her room and curdled her tummy. Her period was due today, and she was desperate to have her fears set to rest. Might stress and a guilty conscience have made her imagine that she felt dizzy and sick? She was pleased when the agency phoned and told her that she would be temping for the week in a big insurance company. And then her neighbour, Mrs Evans’s daughter, asked if Maddie could spend a couple of hours with her mother while she went out. Glad of a distraction from her worries, Maddie went downstairs to sit with the old lady.
Mrs Evans enjoyed the benefit of cable television, and told Maddie to pick a programme from a multitude of channels. Skimming through the many options in the magazine she had been handed, Maddie stiffened in surprise when she saw a photo of Giannis above a few lines about a documentary on his love-life. The programme had already started, but she put it on in time to see an incredibly beautiful blonde girl stepping on board a giant white yacht. From that moment Maddie was hooked, and yet nothing had ever hurt her more than watching that programme.
She made tea for Mrs Evans at a run during the commercial break, so that she didn’t miss anything. She was so ashamed of her painful curiosity to know who Krista was, and what she found out only wounded her more.
Set next to Krista Spyridou, with her platinum hair and supermodel looks and gloss, Maddie could only see herself as a plain Jane with a weight problem. She marvelled that the exquisite Krista was not enough to satisfy Giannis. Was he just a rat in the fidelity stakes? Perpetually addicted to the novelty of fresh faces? It was no consolation to see innumerable shots of him with an endless procession of gorgeous high-profile women. But as Maddie watched, learning that Giannis had known Krista since childhood and seeing pictures of them together overlaid with a commentary about how much the couple shared, her heart twisted inside her. They did look like a perfectly matched couple. Both of them were Greek, beautiful, rich, sophisticated and fashionable. Maddie knew that she was none of those things, and she wondered how she had contrived to tempt Giannis. Although it hurt her to acknowledge it, she also accepted that Giannis had to genuinely care about Krista. Why else would a guy with so much choice and so much experience have decided to marry her?
As soon as Maddie had finished work the following day, she went straight to a pharmacy and bought a pregnancy testing kit. Her nerves worn thin, she sat in her bedsit and read the instructions over and over until she knew them by heart. When she could no longer put off the moment of truth, she did the test and the result came through very quickly.
She was going to have a baby.
Right on cue she felt light-headed again. She was in shock. In spite of Giannis’s immovable belief that there would be no repercussions from the condom accident, she was pregnant. Yet he had almost managed to convince her that she was worrying needlessly. Had that been his wishful thinking? A sob convulsed her throat. Suddenly she felt very young and very scared. She had managed to do everything wrong. She had conceived during a casual sexual encounter. Giannis Petrakos cared nothing for her and would certainly not want her to have his baby. Nor, quite naturally, would Krista Spyridou. What would such news do to Giannis’s intended bride?
Maddie wept long and hard with guilt and unhappiness. She knew how gutted she would feel if the man she was about to marry got another woman pregnant. Krista, who was innocent of all blame, would be hurt and humiliated. It might also be a very public humiliation, Maddie conceded sickly. Until she had glimpsed the Petrakos lifestyle on television she had really not appreciated just how newsworthy and wealthy Giannis was. If the press were to discover that he had fathered a child by a lowly office temp, the story would almost certainly be front-page news. And what role would be assigned to Maddie in such an unlikely triangle? Most probably that of gold-digging tramp, she reckoned painfully. For she was not a beautiful pedigreed golden girl like his photogenic bride-to-be.
And what good would such a scandal do any one of them? Particularly her poor child, who would have to look back on it all some day in the future? When the contraception had failed Giannis had compared the risk of pregnancy to a disaster. And, unless she was very much mistaken, he had made no further reference to that possibility precisely because it was his worst-case scenario come true. In all likelihood he would hope that Maddie would agree to a termination—but she was not prepared to consider that option.
A wave of bitter pain and regret scythed through Maddie. Was it really her duty to pin a chance pregnancy on a man who didn’t want to know? A man planning to
marry the gorgeous Krista Spyridou? Hadn’t Giannis Petrakos trampled enough on her pride? Did she really have to lower herself to that extent?
So tired that she felt as though she was sleepwalking, Maddie went back into work at the insurance company again the next day. She got wet walking from the bus stop, and shivered in her damp skirt and shoes while she sorted through ancient dusty filing cabinets in a cold, grim basement room. Every few minutes she would remember afresh that she was pregnant, and she would start fretting again.
How would she live? She barely earned enough to feed herself as it was. Babies needed a lot of equipment and clothing. Childcare was very expensive. How would she hold down a job? And if she couldn’t manage to stay in employment the baby would not have much of a future to look forward to because they would be living on the poverty line.
Mid-morning, she was called to an office on the ground floor and asked to wait there by a senior manager, who seemed rather nervous and uncomfortable. While she was worried that she had done something wrong, she was grateful to have the chance to sit down in comparative warmth and comfort.
When the door opened, she rose to her feet in an uncertain motion. An almost inaudible gasp parted her lips when Giannis appeared.
‘What are you doing here?’ Maddie shook her bright head in disbelief.
CHAPTER SIX
GIANNIS ran brilliant dark golden eyes over Maddie’s pale, shaken face. He was disconcerted by the change in her. She had bluish-grey shadows below her eyes, and the triangular fragility of her face had taken on a pinched quality that suggested she had lost weight in only the few days since he’d last seen her. His black brows drew together in a frown.
‘You look terrible.’
Pained colour seared her cheeks. No, she had no inner glow like his very beautiful fiancée—no glistening straight blonde hair, no thinner-than-thin perfect body to offer. Of course he must have seen Krista again while he was in Greece. Of course he was now comparing her to Krista, possibly without even knowing he was doing it. Her already laden conscience urged her to stifle such inappropriate thoughts. She was jealous, downright horribly jealous, of a woman she had wronged! The shame of that awareness cut through her, and she hated Giannis for bringing her down to such a level.