‘You’ll be able to pay your mortgage off.’
She shrugged. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of what she’d do with the money until this was over and the money was sitting pretty in her bank account.
‘How did you get into matchmaking?’ he asked. ‘You were going to be a writer.’
She forked a tomato and strove not to react. She hadn’t imagined he would remember anything important about her.
What harm could it do to tell him? It didn’t matter any more. The mystique she’d created around Leviathan no longer applied.
‘Chance. I had a college friend from my Brown days whose family would only agree to him joining the family firm if he married. Mike loathed the idea but not enough to forego his place in the firm. Phoebe was a friend from my junior high days, working as a legal secretary and hating everything about her life—she came from old money but her family had frittered most of it away. All she wanted was to marry someone with enough money for her to quit work, and raise kids and sit on charity boards. Shallow, I know, but she’s a really fun person to be around. Anyway, instinct told me they would be perfect for each other, and they were.’
‘How did that translate into providing a matchmaking service for the elite?’
‘Mike’s part of the Garcia family.’
Comprehension dawned in his eyes. Garcia’s was one of the largest privately owned investment banks in the US. ‘I see. And you went to college with Michael Garcia?’
‘Yes. I stayed in touch with a lot of my friends from Brown when I transferred to New York State.’
‘Why did you transfer?’ When Xander had received his investigator’s report on Elizabeth he’d been stunned to discover she’d transferred from the prestigious Ivy League Brown University to New York State. From the timings, it had happened soon after their time together on St Francis, right before she’d started her second year.
‘Lots of reasons, none of which I want to discuss with you.’
Shutters had come down on her amber eyes.
Whenever he’d unwittingly thought of her over the years he’d imagined her sitting at a desk, surrounded by novels and notebooks, scribbling away. Yet, instead of majoring in English Literature as she’d planned and becoming a scriptwriter, she’d majored in business and set up a matchmaking company.
‘Do you ever match people for love?’ She’d been an incurable romantic when he’d known her, a believer in destiny and the alignment of stars.
Her honey hair swung around her shoulders as she shook her head. ‘That’s not what my company’s about. What it was about. I brought together people who had specific needs in a partner which had nothing to do with love.’ Her eyes met his. ‘Both parties knew exactly what they were getting into. No lies. No deceit. No unrealistic expectations. No broken hearts.’
Her words were loaded with meaning, all of it singing loud and clear.
‘Doesn’t love come into it?’ he asked, refusing to believe the dreamer he’d met so long ago was completely gone.
She shook her head even more vigorously. ‘If people are stupid enough to want to be matched for love then they can go elsewhere for help in finding it. It doesn’t exist and I want no part in the destruction of their dreams.’
He contemplated her a little longer. Their thoughts on marriage aligned. Romantic happy ever afters were a nonsense. Hearing it from her lips though...it proved like nothing else that Elizabeth really had changed.
She was as cynical as he was.
* * *
Fourteen hours after leaving St Francis, they landed in Athens.
After years of travelling the world’s time zones, Elizabeth still struggled to adjust to the major differences. Her exhausted body thought it was midnight and time to sleep. The early Greek sunshine begged to differ.
Adjusting her watch to seven a.m., she followed Xander through the airport where they were whisked through the official bits, and out into a car. A short drive took them to a smaller airport, where they climbed the steps into a much smaller plane for the short flight to Diadonus.
Small but perfectly formed, Diadonus was part of the densely packed Cyclades and unmistakably Greek. The clear blue skies brought a chill to the morning but the rising sun promised warmer weather ahead.
Another car met them on the landing strip and soon they were on their way to Xander’s home.
‘Will your parents be there?’ she asked, voicing the fear in her belly that had been gnawing at her since they’d landed in Athens.
‘No. They rarely come to Diadonus. It’s unlikely you’ll meet them before the court hearing.’
‘Won’t they come and visit Loukas?’
The smile he gave her was bitter. ‘I can count on one hand the number of times they’ve visited him. Neither of them like it here. It’s too quiet for their tastes.’
‘But I thought you’d always lived here?’
‘The Trakas family has always had a home here but my parents prefer Athens. When I took over the running of Timos they moved there full-time.’
‘Do you live in the family home?’
‘Yanis and Katerina have it. I had a new home built for me five years ago.’
The new home turned out to be a palatial white Mykonian-style villa set above a horseshoe-shaped beach. Elizabeth had visited many palatial homes during the course of her career, none of which failed to evoke her admiration. This was the first that properly took her breath away. It had such simplicity and cleanliness yet such beauty, and the views... Breathtaking.
The Aegean rippled close by, its white surf skimming the sandy beach, clusters of white homes nestled close to the shoreline in all directions but far enough away to ensure absolute privacy. Squinting when she got out of the car, she could make out another island in the far distance.
Her throat closing, she followed Xander up white concrete steps to the front entrance. Her few possessions were taken in by a member of his household staff who materialised from nowhere with a friendly smile.
They had barely stepped inside before a squeal sounded out and a small, skinny figure in rumpled navy pyjamas hurtled into the reception room to throw his arms around Xander.
Loukas.
Xander lifted him high into the air and planted kisses all over his nephew’s face, to further squeals of delight.
It was only when he’d been placed back on his feet that Loukas noticed Elizabeth, hanging back a little, feeling decidedly like an intruder.
The happiness resonating from the blue eyes so like his uncle’s turned to wariness and he visibly shrank into himself.
Xander noticed the change and crouched down. ‘Loukas, this lady is my friend Elizabeth,’ he said slowly in English. Like generations of Trakas children, Loukas had an English nanny to ensure he grew up bilingual, but in recent months his learning had taken a backwards turn. His teachers at the local school he attended—a break from the Trakas tradition of educating privately in Athens—had reported him becoming ambivalent about his lessons and withdrawing more into himself. ‘She has come to stay with us.’
Loukas didn’t answer, just stared at Xander with his big blue eyes.
‘Will you say hello to her?’
Loukas shook his head, his thick mop of blond hair falling into his eyes. It needed cutting, Xander thought, his heart aching to see the emptiness in his nephew’s eyes.
It was at moments like this he wanted to grab his brother by the throat and shake him for all the crap he’d put his son through.
He knew Yanis and Katerina couldn’t help their addictions. He’d read all the literature and spoken to all the specialists; they all said the same thing. And in fairness to his brother and sister-in-law, they’d done their best to protect Loukas from it all. In their pitiful marriage they had at least tried to do the right thing by him, but they hadn’t accounted for their son being like a sponge and taking it all in: the regular hospitalisations, the frequent disappearing acts, the rows when the pain of their marriage broke through the alcohol and drug
-inflicted stupors.
The best thing would be for them to divorce. They should never have married in the first place.
He did his best to understand them. The greatest emotion he felt towards them was pity but he could gladly shout himself hoarse to tell them that their best wasn’t good enough and that their son deserved better. But they already knew that.
Taking Loukas’s hand in his, Xander smiled. ‘Elizabeth is a nice lady. I promise. Maybe you can talk to her later. Would you like that?’
Loukas shook his head.
He could sense Elizabeth flinching behind him.
‘Can we have breakfast? I’ve been waiting for you,’ Loukas whispered in Greek. ‘We’ve set the table in the infinity room.’
‘Nai.’ Yes.
‘Not you.’ Loukas’s eyes suddenly fixed on Elizabeth. He’d rediscovered his English. ‘You go away.’
Elizabeth felt as if she’d been struck.
The little boy’s intense gaze didn’t leave her face, as if he thought he could make her disappear with the force of his will.
‘Loukas, that isn’t a polite thing to say to our guest, is it?’ Xander said in a low tone. ‘You must say sorry to her.’
To her horror, a tear appeared in Loukas’s left eye and fell down his face. His little shoulders heaved and this time a torrent of tears fell. Xander gathered him into his arms and carefully stood, Loukas clinging to him, his face buried in his neck.
Murmuring soothing words in Greek to his nephew, Xander threw an apologetic look at Elizabeth before indicating that she should follow them.
She walked behind them through an enormous living area, then through to a second cavernous room with a rounded ceiling. A dining table had been laid by a far wall. Xander set Loukas down and brushed away the last of his tears with his thumb, then took the seat next to him.
Feeling as awkward as she’d ever done in her life, Elizabeth sat herself opposite Loukas, Xander sitting between them at the head of the table. She barely registered the infinity pool just feet from them pouring out into a wall-less expanse that looked out over the Aegean, too overwhelmed at the situation to be overawed by anything like such an ostentatious display of wealth.
More staff appeared, carrying trays of yogurt and honey, fresh fruit, pastries and coffee.
Loukas shuffled his chair as close to his uncle as he could get, clearly thrilled to have him back. More than thrilled, she came to think later. Enthralled.
As she watched uncle and nephew interact, she understood why Xander had been so resolute in keeping his promise in returning to him. Xander was clearly Loukas’s hero.
When they’d finished eating and the plates had been cleared, a woman who was introduced as Loukas’s English nanny came in.
‘It’s time to get dressed,’ she told her charge. ‘We’re meeting Alekos soon to make dens.’
He pulled a mutinous face. ‘I don’t want to go.’
‘You wanted to the other day. Come on.’
Loukas looked hopefully at his uncle. ‘Can you come with me?’
Xander ruffled his hair. ‘We’ve had a long flight and need to rest. We’ll do something fun when you get back. Does that sound good?’
His chin wobbling, his nephew nodded and got down from the table.
Throughout their breakfast he hadn’t looked at Elizabeth once.
CHAPTER SIX
XANDER POURED HIMSELF another cup of coffee then moved to fill Elizabeth’s. She put a hand over her cup.
‘I think my brain might explode if I have any more caffeine.’
He knew the feeling. He was struggling to keep his eyes open himself.
‘I apologise for Loukas’s behaviour,’ he said.
She gave a rueful smile. ‘He’s protective of you, that’s all. He’s vulnerable. With his parents both absent, you’re his security.’ She paused before asking, ‘Is he used to seeing you with women?’
‘God, no.’ He’d always been comfortable entertaining women in Athens but Diadonus was his home, a place to live and entertain family and close friends, not the socialites who littered his world. If he brought a lover here they might start getting ideas that he wanted to make the affair permanent.
Xander conducted his relationships in the same way Elizabeth matched her clients, without lies or deceit. Straight down the line. He didn’t want marriage and he made damned sure any lover knew it.
He’d done marriage once with Elizabeth but that had been a whole combination of elements thinking for him, mostly his libido, most definitely not his brain.
In those dark awful days of dealing with Ana’s death, Elizabeth’s tears still fresh in his mind, he’d known he would never marry again. He didn’t need it or want it, or the misery and contempt that accompanied every marriage he knew.
He didn’t know a single couple who’d found lasting happiness together. Quite the opposite.
Strangely, his parents had the most content marriage he knew, if content was the right word, but they were incredibly well-suited, narcissists the pair of them.
Elizabeth’s cheeks coloured and she looked away, tucking a strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear. ‘He’s probably scared I’m going to take you away from him. Does he know where his parents are?’
‘He knows his mother’s in hospital. He thinks Yanis is away on business.’
‘Has he seen Katerina since she was hospitalised?’
‘A couple of times.’ Noticing how wiped out Elizabeth looked, he finished his coffee and got to his feet. ‘I’ll show you around.’
Elizabeth followed him out of the cave-like living area she’d been told was known as the infinity room, and into the proper living area that was fully protected from the elements. From there she was shown the main dining room, study, playroom with a full-sized snooker table, and kitchen. The sense of space was everywhere and, despite all the futuristic gizmos and gadgets, the design of the villa itself was sympathetic to the island’s heritage.
‘Did you design this yourself?’ she asked.
‘I worked closely with the architect on the blueprints but I can’t take credit for it.’
Then he took her down a flight of extraordinarily wide stairs to the ground floor. There were seven bedrooms in all, each with their own bathroom. They passed a room with the door open. It was a young boy’s bedroom. Muffled voices came from it.
‘Does Loukas have his own bedroom here?’ she whispered.
Xander nodded grimly and matched her low tone. ‘He’s stayed with me regularly since he was born but in recent years it’s become a lot more frequent. When I had the house built I let him choose his own furnishings and decoration for his room. He knows he’ll always have a home here.’
‘Does he have a bedroom at your parents’ place too?’
‘He’s never spent a night with them and he never will,’ he answered with such venom that Elizabeth took a wary step back.
‘If you hate your parents so much, how can you work with them? Or have I got that wrong?’
‘I wouldn’t go as far as to say I hate them,’ he said.
‘But you do still work together?’
‘Of course.’
‘How does that work with you being at war over Loukas?’
‘That’s personal. Work is business. We’re very adept at separating the two.’
And she thought her family was dysfunctional.
‘So you don’t have any issue working with them? You’ve never been tempted to sack them? I read that right; you are the boss?’
‘Yes, I’m the boss, but why would I? They’re both excellent in their respective roles within the company. It’s only as human beings that they’re useless.’
This was too much for Elizabeth to get her head around. She’d surrounded herself with a workforce of warm, decent people. She’d never even contemplated employing someone she didn’t like, once passing over a multilingual secretary who would’ve been able to translate contracts into six different languages. She’d preferred the one who c
ould only translate three because she’d been a warmer person.
She’d had her fill of cold people growing up.
‘I need to get some sleep before I do any more work,’ she said, wanting nothing more than to be alone. So much had happened in the past twenty-four hours she felt dizzy. ‘Which one’s my room?’
‘We’re at the end of the floor.’ He set off towards it.
‘Adjoining rooms?’ she clarified, only following him when he nodded. ‘And there’s a lock?’
‘Correct. Worry not, kardia mou, your virtue is safe with me.’ But as he spoke a flash of heat pulsed from his eyes, quickly gone but there long enough to make her heart ripple.
He looked away to put his hand on the handle of her door. ‘Spend the day resting. Tomorrow we’ll go to Athens.’
‘What for?’
‘You need clothes, don’t you?’
‘Doesn’t Diadonus have shops?’
‘Not the sort of clothes a wife of mine should wear. I don’t care what style of clothing you buy but I do care about the label on the back.’
She nodded, understanding. Image was important in this world. To some people, image was everything. If she was to be Xander’s wife, she had to look the part and that meant couture clothing.
What did she mean, if she was to be his wife? She already was his wife.
The thought sent a little jolt through her and, for the first time, it really hit her. Xander was her husband. Her legally married husband.
And, for the first time, she allowed herself to see the memory she had shoved in a tight box in the furthest recess of her mind. What it had been like to make love to him as his wife. How it had felt to have him inside her, a part of her...
Long-forgotten heat coiled through her loins at the memories, burning into her brain...
A long, long silence stretched out between them, the atmosphere thickening until Xander’s jaw clenched and he shoved the door open. He spoke brusquely. ‘This is your room. Make yourself at home. If you need anything you’ll find a member of staff in the kitchen.’
She practically dived into it, shutting the door firmly behind her without exchanging another word, desperate to be away from him.
Married for the Greek's Convenience Page 6