by Lynne Graham
‘I didn’t… buy it,’ Sander tacked on when she looked back at him with a frown. ‘Roxburn Manor belongs to my parents. About ten years ago my mother took the notion that she would like to live like an English country lady but one wet summer killed the dream. I can’t recall when they last used this place.’
Tally studied the cool blue painted walls and highly ornate spindly furniture, which was so out of step with the age of the house, and thought that she should have recognised his mother’s elaborate taste in interior design. With tact she made no comment about the wastefulness of retaining such a large property and not making use of it. She had never forgotten how very hard Sander had had to work to keep Volakis Shipping afloat while his parents continued to spend, spend, spend as though there were not a single cloud in their financial sky. Born into money, his parents were two of the most self-indulgent people she knew, yet Sander never ever criticised the extravagant lifestyle they took for granted. Considering the way his parents treated him, Tally saw his lack of complaint on that score as a phenomenon of filial loyalty and restraint.
Yes, Sander did have many good points, she acknowledged reluctantly. He was an excellent son to his undeserving parents, a hard worker, a terrific provider and a highly entertaining companion in and out of bed. But that thought process only sent Tally slap-bang, head first into a painful collision with the awareness of the one fact she could not surmount: Oleia’s child. Tally’s life had been turned upside down and there was nothing she could do about it, aside of walking away from Sander and their marriage for good. Was that what she was planning to do?
Immobilised by the sheer threat of that prospect, Tally flinched when her mobile phone began to flash and buzz on the chair beside her.
‘Leave it,’ Sander told her impatiently.
Predictably Tally ignored that piece of advice and reached for the handset. It was Robert and an almost comical expression of dismay stamped her face.
‘Where on earth are you?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve been waiting twenty minutes!’
Tally groaned out loud and began to apologise. The first Friday of every month, she and Robert always met over dinner to discuss business at her interiors firm and she had missed the previous month because she had been in Morocco. ‘Robert, I am so sorry. I completely forgot that I was supposed to be seeing you tonight—’
‘I can read newspapers,’ Robert responded wryly. ‘I know the rapturous reunion has to be hitting the skids fast under the tide of revelations coming out now in print.’
Her face flamed. ‘Don’t be sarcastic.’
‘I’m very much on the outside with this, Tally,’ her business partner said ruefully. ‘I don’t know what you expect from me.’
‘Can’t you just be my friend?’ Tally questioned uncomfortably.
‘You’re making that a challenge. And blowing off Lady Margaret this morning wasn’t a good move on your part. She’s already been on the phone to complain to me. She doesn’t want to be palmed off with one of your employees.’
Tally frowned. ‘I assured her that any work she gives us would be receiving my personal attention. We were only going to have a preliminary meeting to discuss her preferences today.’
‘Where are you?’
Outrageously conscious of Sander’s hard questioning scrutiny, she explained about Roxburn Manor.
‘I’ll drive down and see you tomorrow around noon,’ Robert told her and he cut off the call before she could protest.
Her strained eyes collided with Sander’s steady dark golden gaze. ‘What?’ she snapped in the uneasy silence that had spread.
‘What’s the state of play with Miller?’ he queried in a charged undertone just as the woman in the overall reappeared to lift the plates and deliver the main course.
In the wake of her departure, Tally tilted her chin. ‘My relationship with Robert is private.’
His intent gaze burned like the heart of a hot fire. ‘Don’t say that to me!’
‘And don’t push me to point out that what came out yesterday has forced me to reconsider our marriage!’ Tally framed hoarsely, not wanting to make that threat but unable to silence the angry words brimming on her lips.
‘I’m not stupid.’ Sander studied her heart-shaped face, taking in the big green eyes torn by indecision and strain and the wounded curve of her luscious peach-tinted mouth. His appetite died there and then. He tossed his napkin down on the plate and vaulted upright. ‘Excuse me: I also have a couple of calls to make.’
Tears stung Tally’s eyes and she blinked them back angrily. She ate with dogged determination, recalling the many silent and lonely meals she had eaten when their marriage was falling apart in the South of France. While she’d been lost in grief, Sander had buried himself in work to the extent that she had felt alone and neglected and fully justified in deciding to leave him. But, just at that instant, she realised that maybe she had driven Sander away from her by reminding him that she no longer knew whether or not she was willing to give their marriage another go. She remembered her father’s blackmail and almost laughed, knowing that he too would be watching events and wondering what the outcome would be.
History had repeated itself with the birth of an illegitimate child. Once she had been that child but at least she had been born before her father, Anatole, had met and married her half-sister, Cosima’s, mother. Now she was getting a glimpse of what it felt like to be on the other side of the fence. She was full of angry resentment and uncharitable feelings for an innocent child who had not asked to be born. That acknowledgement only made Tally feel more wretched and confused than ever. It would probably be easier to walk away than to try and stay and make a go of their marriage in such circumstances, she reflected painfully. But the easier path wasn’t necessarily the right one.
Mrs Jones showed her up to her room, her cheerful manner spelling out the reality that she was delighted that the manor was being occupied, even temporarily. In the background Tally tried not to listen to the mournful strain of Lili’s continued howling from the floor above, while thinking that there surely had to be something amiss when a child cried so constantly and loudly and then hastily forcing the reflection back out of her mind again. A pile of boxes greeted her on the bed of the elegant guest room. Her investigations revealed a nightdress and wrap, as well as a skirt and sweater and lingerie all in the correct sizes. That was one thing about having a womaniser as a husband, Tally thought wryly, he really did know enough about her sex to understand what it took to make a woman comfortable.
But was Sander still a womaniser? Honesty bade her admit that she had had no reason to doubt his fidelity while they’d still been living together as man and wife. And he was right when it came to one major issue: she had abandoned their marriage. Only now did Tally recognise that grief had coloured everything she’d felt back then, adding to her unhappy conviction that her husband had only married her because she was pregnant. The stillbirth of their child had convinced her that there was no longer any reason for them to stay together and that Sander’s constant absences were his way of telling her that. Now, recalling his admission that he had drunk heavily for a while after their break-up, she reckoned she was guilty of making too many assumptions—while ignoring the fact that Sander had always been bold enough to speak up on his own behalf.
Towelling herself dry after a quick shower, Tally put on the nightdress and wrap. All the while she was painfully conscious that Lili was still mournfully wailing at the top of the house. Finally she couldn’t stand that muted sound in the background any longer and she stalked out of the room and headed off downstairs in search of Sander.
Sander was using his laptop at a vast and grandiose mahogany desk that was much more his father’s style than his. When she appeared in the doorway, he glanced up with brilliant dark eyes and then visibly froze.
‘To what do I owe the honour?’ He savoured the sight of her in garments he had personally chosen for her. The costly turquoise silk lay in a fine glossy layer against her sl
ight body, moulding the pouting curve of her breasts and the taut peaks. He hardened instantaneously, desire piercing his big powerful body with almost painful immediacy. The neckline of the wrap showed only a shallow vee of pale creamy flesh and yet that small glimpse of her velvet soft skin was the most erotic thing he had ever seen.
Beneath his steady scrutiny Tally reddened and stood rigid as a board. ‘You probably won’t think it’s any of my business, but a baby that cries as much as Lili seems to—’ she pronounced the name out loud for the first time and her voice faltered slightly over the word ‘—ought to be checked over by a doctor. Just in case she’s crying because she’s in pain … or something.’
Sander slid lithely upright, straightening to his full six-feet-plus height with fluid grace. Luxuriant black lashes semi-concealing his burning dark golden gaze, he sighed heavily. ‘A doctor saw her in London. Apparently she suffers from infantile eczema and it’s making her pretty miserable. The nanny has been given medication and a treatment schedule for her care.’
Tally experienced her first pang of compassion for Oleia’s daughter. She’d had a friend at school who’d suffered from eczema and knew how distressing it could be to live with a skin condition that could cause intense irritation. ‘That’s good. Maybe given some time the treatment will help,’ she said brittlely, striving to behave as though they were sharing a perfectly normal conversation. ‘How’s the nanny coping?’
‘She’s only providing temporary cover and will be replaced by another nanny tomorrow.’ As Tally frowned Sander compressed his handsome mouth in agreement. ‘It’s far from ideal, but that’s the best arrangement I was able to make at short notice.’
‘We sound like polite strangers,’ Tally commented unevenly, dismayed by the fact that they were both walking on eggshells.
And without the smallest warning of his intent, Sander reached for her. Stunning golden eyes smouldering like flames below the fringe of his lush black lashes, he banded his arms round her to lock her into contact with his lean muscular length and, lowering his arrogant dark head, he kissed her with a studied eroticism she would not have been able to resist two days earlier. But there was a cold, unresponsive stone inside her where her heart had once raced and Tally froze and flinched, refusing to feel anything.
Just as suddenly she pushed him away and stepped back to emphasise her point. ‘No,’ she told him flatly.
‘You’re here, you’re with me,’ Sander pointed out huskily. ‘Why not?’
Shock and annoyance at being challenged like that ricocheted through Tally. ‘You know why not.’
‘What’s the point of trying to punish me for something that happened well over a year ago while we were living apart?’ Sander demanded.
Hectic colour was forced into Tally’s cheeks. She could barely credit his nerve, but she also recognised that Sander’s hot-blooded libido required little in the way of encouragement. ‘I am not trying to punish you, Sander.’
‘You’re pushing me away again and I won’t accept it,’ he gritted with a flash of even white teeth against his bronzed skin while he surveyed her with hard masculine tenacity as though she were a puzzle that sufficient contemplation might resolve.
‘You may not have a choice.’
‘There is always a choice and this is not one that you are going to make for me,’ Sander intoned, his Greek accent very strong as he made that admonition. ‘You’re still my wife—’
Tally folded her arms defensively. ‘On paper—’
‘Yesterday, we were on a mattress, not on paper,’ Sander reminded her with sardonic cool. ‘You chose to come back to me. You were willing then to give our marriage another chance.’
That unwelcome reminder made her small face set hard as ice in a polar blast, her pride squirming with mortification. ‘It’s not quite that simple.’
Sander towered over her, all the stubborn aggression of his strong temperament in his challenging stance. ‘It’s exactly that simple.’
Angry resentment at the level of his scorching confidence roared through Tally in a dizzy rush and without even pausing to think about it she hit back as hard as she could. ‘Well, actually, it’s anything but simple. If it wasn’t for the pressure that Anatole put on me, I would never have come back to you in the first place!’
Ebony brows pleating in mystification at that declaration, Sander frowned down at her. ‘What are you talking about? What’s your father got to do with anything?’
And, just as quickly, a sharp pang of regret infiltrated Tally, for she had never intended to tell him that truth.
‘Tally …’ Sander prompted impatiently.
She breathed in deep, recognising that she had boxed herself into a corner with her taunt. Now she had no alternative other than to tell him the whole story. ‘Mum did something dishonest when she was living in Monaco. She had debts and to pay them she forged cheques that belonged to Roger, the man she was living with. When he found out, he threw her out and sent a solicitor to tell her that if she didn’t repay the money she had stolen the police would be involved,’ she explained ruefully. ‘Of course, Crystal didn’t have any money and I wasn’t in a position to help either. Everything I’ve got is tied up in the business.’
Sander was frowning but her admission about Crystal’s dishonesty did not appear to have surprised him that much. ‘Why didn’t you come to me for help? She’s your mother and I would’ve understood.’
‘Because, at the end of the day, I’m not sure there’s much to choose between you and my father. Neither of you is a fan of the something-for-nothing concept. You’re both tough businessmen. My father thinks being married is good for me. He agreed to give me the money to replace what Crystal stole if I agreed to give our marriage another go. Just as Anatole wanted something in return for his generosity, I assumed that you would as well.’
As she spoke Sander’s vibrant skin tone had slowly taken on an ashen shade as his natural healthy colour receded. ‘I wouldn’t have chosen to hold your mother’s fraud over your head and blackmail you into coming back to me.’
Tally looked unimpressed. ‘You like to get what you want when you want it. I’m not so sure …’
‘You may be sure in this instance.’ His bright eyes flared to a hot gold that positively sizzled between the curling luxuriance of his black lashes. ‘I wouldn’t bloody well want any woman on terms which meant I had to bribe her to be with me!’ he shot back at her in fierce rebuttal. ‘That includes you.’
‘Oh … is that a fact?’ Tally fielded, although she was more shaken by the strength of his reaction than she was prepared to show.
‘I would’ve given you that money without strings attached,’ Sander informed her, still very much taken aback by what he had just learned. ‘Crystal is not self-supporting and never has been. I knew that when I married you and I knew she would need my help sooner or later. I’ll take care of repaying Anatole.’ His dark brows drew together in a heavy frown. ‘Is that the only reason you came back to me? Because your father demanded it as condition of your receiving that money?’
Almost energised by the fact that she was the one surprising him for a change, Tally sent him an unapologetic look of challenge. ‘Anatole seems to be convinced that if I divorce you I’ll end up on my own like Mum and never settle down again. Obviously he likes to see you as a stabilising influence.’
Long black lashes dipping low over his shrewd gaze, Sander swung away, his lean hands clenching into fists as he swallowed back a guttural surge of outraged Greek condemnation. His wily father-in-law was responsible for negotiating his wife’s return to his side. That was who he had to thank for his second chance at marriage. Dark fury made Sander light-headed. He wanted to hammer the wall until it cracked beneath the force of his anger and wounded pride. The blood was pulsing hotly through his veins and the pounding behind his brow made him feel as though a steel band were tightening round his temples. It took tremendous self-discipline for him to suppress his rage.
‘And wha
t was the price that bought you back into my bed?’ Sander murmured with lethal cool, turning back to her with eyes dark as pitch and with no glimmer of volatile gold showing.
‘That’s not how it was,’ Tally protested stiffly, beginning to wish that she had kept her mouth shut and resenting that sarcastic comment calculated to make her feel like a slut.
‘How much?’ Sander pressed with harsh emphasis.
And she told him in the hope of closing the subject.
It was a paltry amount on Sander’s terms. He whistled long and low under his breath and rested derisive golden eyes on her strained face. ‘No offence intended, but I got you back on the cheap. I’m surprised that you didn’t turn to Robert Miller for help. I think he would have enjoyed the opportunity to ride to your rescue like a knight on a white charger.’
‘I didn’t want to drag Robert into my family problems. Mum was guilty of fraud, she stole … approaching Robert didn’t seem appropriate,’ Tally told him uneasily.
‘So once again we owe the ongoing fact of our marriage to your father’s scheming.’ Sander released an un-appreciative laugh. ‘Anatole’s good at intrigue and so are you, moli mou. It didn’t even occur to me to suspect that you might have another motivation when you agreed to come back to me.’ His darkly shadowed, strong jaw line hardened, his sensual mouth twisting. ‘It’s most unlike me to be naïve, but clearly I was naïve not to appreciate that you have your price like every other woman I’ve ever met.’
Her colour receded, her fine bone structure prominent as she fought to retain her composure. If it was his intent to make her feel cheap and easy he had succeeded with that cynical crack about her moral fibre. In her heart, Tally had long since accepted that her father’s proposition had merely given her the excuse to do what she wanted to do anyway. She had wanted Sander back but, being too proud to admit the fact, had found it easier to tell herself that she was only returning to him because her father had given her no other choice. What did that say about her? The extent of her self-deception shamed her but in the current climate wild horses could not have dragged that truth out of her and made her share it with him. Her head high, her eyes cloaked in self-defence, she spun on her heel and headed back to her room.