by Julia James
‘I can’t just...just tag along with you to Athens. What as, for heaven’s sake? Here, we’ve been on holiday, but if you go back to your home city—well...what will I be doing there with you? What am I to you there?’
How can I have nothing more than a holiday romance with you if we’re not on holiday?
He was staring at her, his eyes dark, his expression darker.
She had to make him understand.
Something had changed in his eyes. ‘What had you in mind?’ he said.
His voice was dry. As dry as the sand in a desert.
It was her turn to stare, not understanding what he was saying—why he was saying it. Emotion was churning away inside her and she felt a sense of shock—shock that the moment she’d thought would be deferred for a few more days was upon her. Right now.
Then he was speaking.
‘Mel, I was clear with you from the start, wasn’t I?’ she heard him say. ‘Before we came here? I never fed you a line—you knew the score with me from the start. Don’t expect anything more than that.’
His voice was flat, unemotional. Had she read more than he’d intended into his saying they needed to head for Athens? He hoped not—he really hoped not.
Because ‘anything more’ is not how I live my life. I’ve seen where ‘more’ can take people—how it can screw things up...screw people up...
His mind sheered away from familiar thoughts, familiar reactions. Things he didn’t want to associate with Mel—not Mel.
I just want what we have now—because it’s good...so good—and I want it to go on just the way it is. I don’t see why it can’t, but why can’t she see that, too? Why can’t we just go on the way we are? Not question things the way she’s doing now?
Mel’s face worked. ‘Nikos, I don’t expect anything more of you than what we’ve been having.’ She swallowed, making her voice lighter. ‘Which is the most fantastic holiday that anyone could ever imagine. A holiday that...’ She swallowed again, and this time there seemed to be something in her throat as she did so, though she didn’t know what. ‘That is over,’ she finished.
The expression in his eyes changed. Had she seen a flash of emotion? And if she had, what had it been?
For a moment she thought it might have been relief.
Or had it been regret?
Well, whatever it was, it didn’t matter. All that mattered now was...was...
A strange, hollow sense of emptiness stretched inside her.
All that matters now is saying goodbye...
She made herself move—walk up to him, loop her arms around his neck. He was standing stock-still, all muscles tensed.
‘Nikos, I have had the most fantastic time with you,’ she told him, steeling herself to say what must be said right now—days before she’d thought she would be saying it. She smiled at him, made herself smile, because smiling at this moment was suddenly very necessary to her. ‘But...’
She let him go, stepped away again. She took a breath. It was painful, somehow, to draw breath in and out of her lungs, but she had to do it. Had to say goodbye to him.
‘It’s come to an end, Nikos,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry we’re not getting our...our bonus time in New York, but...well...’ she gave a little shrug with muscles that did not want to move ‘...there it is. All holidays end. So has ours.’
That was all the time they’d planned to have with each other—nothing more. So why was he glowering at her the way he was, his expression rejecting what she was saying to him?
She bit her lip, hating what was happening but knowing there was no alternative.
This has come too fast—I’m not ready...not prepared—
Out of nowhere panic boiled up in her chest, suffocating her. She had to fight it down. Had to make herself speak to him in a tone of voice that sounded reasonable.
‘I’m sorry this has just happened so fast like this—but, oh, Nikos, we always knew this moment would come. Whether now or in a couple of days in New York it doesn’t matter much. We mustn’t make a big deal of it—it isn’t a big deal and it mustn’t become one.’
There was a plea in her voice now—even she could hear it. But who was she pleading with? Him—or herself? Well, she mustn’t think about that. Mustn’t think about anything except making herself reach for her nearby handbag, clutch it to her.
He was still standing there, motionless. His face was frozen, as if turned to stone.
Why is it like this? Why? It shouldn’t be hard to say goodbye and get on with my own life. It just shouldn’t!
‘Nikos, I’m going to take the hotel shuttle to the airport—make that New York flight on my own. I know the London flight isn’t till this evening, so there’s no point you setting off now. And...and I don’t want to say goodbye at an airport...’
I don’t want to say goodbye at all.
The words were wrung from inside her, but she ignored them—she had to.
‘I don’t believe you’re doing this.’
That deep, accented voice. But no longer flat. No longer edged. Just—harsh.
‘It’s for the best. It really is,’ she heard herself say.
She picked up the handle of her suitcase, backing towards the door. As she yanked it open she paused. Looked at him one last time.
For some strange, inexplicable reason he looked out of focus. Blurred.
She blinked, trying to clear her vision. Trying to keep her voice the way it had to be—the only way it could be when a holiday romance came to an end. ‘Have a good flight back,’ she said.
She smiled. Or thought she did. She wasn’t sure.
She wasn’t sure of anything at all except that she had to manoeuvre her suitcase out onto the path that ran along the back of their rooms. A hotel buggy was waiting there, ready to take both of them up to the hotel for the airport shuttle. Now it would only take her.
She let her suitcase be hefted up, clambered onto the seat herself. Nerveless...numb. Her chest was bound with steel bands, her vision still blurred. The afternoon heat pressed down on her like a crushing weight.
The buggy glided off, taking her away.
In Mel’s room Nikos stood very still.
The room was empty. Quite empty.
Emotion sliced through him. He stopped it. Meshed himself together again. Made himself walk towards the house phone and pick it up, speak to the front desk to request, in tones that were curter than he would normally use to a member of hotel staff, that he be booked on the London flight that evening. Then he put the phone down. Stared about him.
She’d gone. Mel had gone. That was the only thought in his head. She’d waved him goodbye and walked out.
And he couldn’t believe it. Just could...not...believe it.
In the space of a few minutes he’d gone from having Mel with him to not having her.
She walked out on me. She just walked out on me!
The slicing emotion came again—vertically from the top of his head right down to his feet. Slicing him in half, as if each side of his body would keel over separately. Destroying him.
Breath ravaged his lungs as he drew air into them, hauling the two sides of his body back together again by raw strength of will. He was in shock, he knew. Recognised it with the part of his mind that was still capable of functioning, which was somewhere deep inside him, somewhere very remote, it seemed. Shock was all there was to him right now. And the disbelief that went hand in hand with it.
The ringing of the house phone made him jolt. Automatically he picked it up, listened as he was told his flight had been booked, automatically gave his monosyllabic thanks before hanging up.
He walked out through the French windows he’d walked in through only minutes earlier. When his world had been completely different...
When Mel had been in it
.
But now Mel was gone.
Oh, God, she’s gone.
The emotion came again, like a sweeping knife, head to foot—and this time it severed him in two completely...
* * *
Mel was standing in bright sunlight, heat beating down on her bare head. The view was beyond all imagining.
The great chasm in the earth a few metres beyond her was a full ten miles wide at this point, she knew—one of the greatest natural wonders of the earth. But as she stood at the rim of the Grand Canyon she could not feel its grandeur, nor its wonder. All around her tourists were milling, exclaiming, taking photos, grouping and regrouping, but still she stood, gazing out over the contorted rocks that cascaded down into the belly of the earth, where far below the Colorado River snaked along the almost subterranean base of the canyon.
She was taking part in an organised day tour from Las Vegas, having flown in from Washington, where she’d gone after New York. She’d assiduously visited every landmark on the tourist trail, determined to miss absolutely nothing.
Determined to fill every moment of the day with occupation. With busyness and fulfilment.
Determined to show that she was living her life to the full, seeing the world and all its wonders as she had planned and hoped so much to do.
Determined not to let herself remember the brief, glorious introduction to that new life of hers that she had had courtesy of Nikos.
It had been good—brilliant—fantastic—fabulous. But it had only ever been supposed be a glittering, gorgeous introduction to her new life of hedonistic freedom after long servitude. Travelling on her own, going where she wanted when she wanted, footloose and fancy-free, answerable only to herself—that was what her new life was supposed to be about.
So she must not stand here and think of Nikos. Must not stand here and see only him in her mind’s vision, not the jaw-dropping stupendous splendour of the Canyon.
And above all she must not—must not, must not—let that most dangerous and fatal thought creep into her head: If only he were here with me, standing beside me now, and we were seeing all this together... If only he were seeing everything with me...
Seeing everything with her...
If only he’d been with her in New York, seeing the sights with her as they’d planned. The Statue of Liberty, Central Park, the Empire State Building. And then in Washington, seeing all the historic monuments there, and then—oh, then the complete contrast of Las Vegas...so gaudy and garish and such ridiculous tacky fun!
In her head she could hear him laughing with her, murmuring to her, could feel him sweeping her into his arms, kissing her senseless and carrying her off to their bed to find passionate, burning rapture in each other’s arms.
Oh, the longing for him was palpable, the yearning all-consuming. There was an ache inside her...she wanted him with her so much...
But he wasn’t with her. Would never be with her again. They would never stand beside each other seeing the wonders that the world had to offer. Never sweep each other into their arms again.
So she must get used to it. Must accept it. Must simply stop letting thoughts like that into her head. Such uselessly tormenting thoughts...
She must simply go on standing there, staring blindly, vacantly out over this chasm in the earth. While inside her there seemed to be a chasm almost as vast.
CHAPTER NINE
‘SO, HOW WAS BERMUDA?’
It was a casually asked question, and not one that should have made Nikos tense instantly. He made himself return an equitable reply.
‘Not a bad conference,’ he said.
‘Nice venue, too.’ His acquaintance smiled. ‘Did you manage to add on any holiday time?’
Somehow Nikos managed an answer, and then ruthlessly switched the subject. Whatever he talked about, it wasn’t going to be his time in Bermuda. It wasn’t even something he wanted to think about.
That desire was, of course, completely fruitless. He thought about Bermuda all the time.
And Mel. Always Mel.
Mel laughing, head thrown back, glorious blonde hair rippling. Mel gazing at him with that expression of amusement, interest—desire. Mel melting into his arms, her mouth warm and inviting, her body clinging to his, ardent and eager...
Then he would slam down the guillotine and make himself think about something else. Anything else. Anything at all.
Work was what he mainly thought about. Lived and breathed. He’d become a powerhouse of focussed, relentless dedication to the business of the bank. Deal after deal after deal. Tireless and non-stop. Rising early and working late.
He was back to working out a lot, too. Muscle mass glistened...heart and lungs purred like the engine of a high-performance car. Sinews were lean and supple like a honed athlete. It was essential to keep his body occupied.
Because his body had a mind of its own. A mind he could not allow to function—not in the slightest. A mind that made every cell in his honed, taut body crave another body—a body that was soft and satin-smooth and sensuous as silk. Flesh to his flesh...
He still wanted her.
The irony of the situation was not lost on him. He was the one who’d wanted nothing more than a temporary affair. Had wanted only a holiday romance with Mel.
But no one had said how long the holiday had to be, had they? No, they hadn’t. Or where it had to be. It could just as easily have been here in Greece. Mel had never seen Greece, and showing her the glories of the ancient ruins, the beauty of the islands and mountains, would have entranced her.
But she’d turned it down. Turned down spending more time with him. Gone off on her travels just the way she’d always planned to.
That was what was so galling now. That the very thing that had once reassured him that she would accept the temporary nature of her romance with him was now twisting back to bite him!
Bite him hard.
The door of his office swung open and his father strode in from his adjoining office, his expression angry, as it so often was, Nikos thought with a silent sigh.
‘Do you know what your mother has done now?’ his father demanded. ‘She’s taken herself off to Milan. She says it’s because she’s out of clothes—ha! That woman could open a fashion store with her wardrobe. But I know better. She’s in a ridiculously unnecessary sulk—just because she’s taken it into her stupid head that I’m having an affair with another woman.’
Nikos’s mouth tightened. Oh, great, that was all he needed. His father sounding off to him about the latest behaviour of his wife and how it irritated him.
‘And are you?’ he replied bluntly.
His father waved a hand impatiently. ‘Do you blame me?’ he demanded, his voice aggrieved. ‘Your mother’s impossible! Completely impossible! She’s taken off at just the most inconvenient time. We are supposed to be joining Demetrius Astarchis and his wife on their yacht tomorrow! Now what am I supposed to do?’
‘Take your mistress instead?’ his son suggested acidly.
‘Don’t be absurd. They’re expecting your mother and me. She should be there—Demetrius and I do a valuable amount of business with each other. If nothing else, your mother should realise that the only reason she can run riot in couture houses is because of the effort I put in to keep the coffers full. She owes me some loyalty!’
Nikos forbore from pointing out the obvious—that loyalty was a two-way street, and keeping a mistress was not the way for his father to win his wife’s. But he also knew, with weary resignation, that his mother’s poisonous tongue couldn’t have done a better job of driving away her husband than if she’d changed the locks on the house.
He’d never heard a conversation between them that didn’t involve his mother making vicious little digs at his father all the time...or sweeping sabre strokes of bitter accusation.
/> He looked at his father now, standing there angrily, filled with self-righteous indignation at his wife’s errant behaviour, and felt an immense exasperated irritation with them both.
‘Is that what you came in to tell me?’ he asked tightly, having no intention of being drawn into witnessing any further diatribes by his father against his mother.
‘I wanted to check over the Hong Kong trip with you,’ his father said, still ill-humoured, ‘and warn you that if your mother hasn’t deigned to return before you go I’ll have to go and fetch her home. I’m not having her roaming around Europe, bad-mouthing me to everyone she knows. And I’m not leaving her in Milan on her own too long either—catching the eye of some predatory male!’
He gave his son a withering look.
‘Not that your mother has any looks left—she’s not aged well,’ he said sourly. ‘Which is another reason,’ he finished defiantly, ‘for me to find something more agreeable to look at than her crow’s feet.’
Nikos forbore to add oil to burning waters by reminding his father that his mother was equally and vocally critical of her husband’s jowly features and increasing paunch. Instead, all he said was, ‘I’ve got the meetings in Hong Kong all set up. Take a look.’
He found he was glad he had a trip to the Far East coming up—it might help take his mind off his own miseries. Though it didn’t do him any good to realise that he was already thinking how much he’d have loved to show Hong Kong to Mel.
We could have flown down to Malaysia afterwards, Thailand, too, and Bali—even on to Australia, maybe.
And from Australia they could have taken in New Zealand—and beyond that the verdant jewels of the South Pacific islands...
He tore his mind away. Why torment himself? Why think about holidays he would never have with Mel? All she’d wanted from him was a brief few weeks on a single island. Nothing more than that...
‘Good,’ his father was saying now. He glanced at his watch. ‘I must go—I’m having lunch with Adela.’ He paused. ‘I might not be back afterwards...’