by Julia James
She knew, with a terrible clenching of her heart, that it would be all she would have of him. The realisation struck like a cold knife at her.
She heard his words at Knossos echo in her heart— 'We must live while we can, Andrea. We have no other choice except to make the most of what is given to us. Our minds, our hearts-— our bodies and our passions.'
And she would make the most of it—draw every bead of happiness, every pulse of pleasure and desire, every moment of calm, quiet bliss.
And make it last her all her life.
But I want it to last for ever!
That was impossible, she knew. This time with Nikos was nothing more than a brief, magical sliver of time. It shimmered prifh radiance, but it could not last.
Reality had to return, and she must accept that. Not will-fagly, but with a heavy, heavy heart. She knew, more than any, just how brief a portion of happiness life could hold. Her mother was testament to that And yet she knew, for she had asked her once, that her mother would never have forgone the brief, fleeting bliss she had had with the man she loved, however long the empty years since then.
And I will be the same...
As they drove into Soula on their last evening on Crete, the setting sun turning the sea to gold, and saw the yatch moored there, Andrea’s spirits became heavy. Her happiness was coming to an end and would never come again.
She looked across at Nikos, etching every line of his face into her memory.
I love him, she thought. I love him.
As the words formed in her mind she knew them for a truth she could never deny. Never abandon.
And never tell.
Andrea paced the deck of the yatch as it headed steadily, remorselessly, north in the starlight towards Piraeus. To the east the sky was beginning to lighten. It must be near dawn, she thought. Inside, Nikos lay asleep, exhausted by passion.
Our last time together, she thought in anguish.
She had slipped noiselessly away, needing - oh, needing solitude to think. To agonise.
This wasn’t supposed to happen! This was never in the plan! I never meant to fall in love with him!
She stared blindly out over the sea, feeling the deck swell with the waves beneath the hull. The hull of a luxury Greek yatch.
This wasn’t real - none of it was real! It was nothing more than a dream, a chimera. Reality was at home, in that drab council flat where she lived all her life, bowed down by the debts that hung around Kim’s neck - the money she had borrowed at ruinous interest, unsecured as it had to be, since they owned nothing of value, to pay for the treatment Andrea needed to make her walk again.
That’s what I came to Greece for - to free her from that burden at last. To set her free from the cage and let her have some happiness in life at last, some comfort and ease.
And there was nothing stopping her - the money her grandfather had paid her to marry Nikos Vassilis was in her bank account. All she had to do was go home and spend it.
Leaving Nikos behind.
You’ll never see him again! Never made love with him! Never hold him in your arms!
A cold wind gusted over her, and she shivered in the fine silk negligee.
So what? So what if you’ve fallen in love with Nikos Vassilis? He doesn’t love you. He married you to get your grandfather’s company. And if he seduced you, took you to his bed, made you his wife in deed as well as name, well, that is what a Greek husband would do with his bride - even one with your fears and made a woman of you! But he doesn’t love you - and he doesn’t want your love.
That was not in his plan. Don’t think it was.
She hugged the negligee to her, but it could not keep out the cold that was seeping into her heart.
And how thrilled do you think he’ll be when he discovers, as he must, that you are no more the precious Coustakis heiress than the Queen of Sheba? That you’re nothing but the spurned, unwanted bastard granddaughter of Yiorgos Coustakis, who’s used you because he’s got no one else to use to make a final stab at his own posterity! Do you think a man as rich as Nikos Vassilis wants a wife from a council flat?
She didn’t have to answer.
Desolation washed through her. Cold and empty.
At breakfast, taken indoors this time, as they made their way through the busy shipping lanes approaching Piraeus, Nikos too, was not in the best of moods. The week away from Athens had made him forget the pressures that would await him on his return. Tonight, and for the foreseeable future, he would be burning the midnight oil with a vengeance, as the process of merging Vassilis Inc. and Coustakis Industries got underway. Already, before breakfast, he had been on the phone to his secretary, his directors, setting wheels in motion. But for the first time in his life he had no appetite for work.
Only for Andrea…
He felt his body stir, and crushed it ruthlessly. It would be at least late tonight before he was free to enjoy his passionate bride again. His jaw tightened. He would have to explain to her that their time together would be at a premium now. At least until he had completed his takeover of her grandfather's company.
Did she realise that already? She was not looking happy, he thought, studying her across the table. In fact, she looked different altogether. She had lost the casual, easygoing look she had had for the last week. Now she looked stiff, and tense, picking at her food.
'I'm sorry we couldn't have stayed away longer,' he said. 'But doing an M&A takes a lot of work.'
Andrea looked at him. He was wearing a business suit again, and it made him look formal. Distant. The man she had spent the most blissful week of her life with had vanished. In his place was the man who had married her to get hold of Coustakis Industries. And for no other reason.
She must remember that.
'I'm sure it does,' she said impersonally.
Nikos's mouth tightened. She was ready enough to accept the lavish lifestyle her family wealth afforded—but balked at how it had been earned in the first place.
'A corporate merger is not a trivial thing to accomplish, Andrea...'
He paused suddenly. There was a bleakness in her eyes he could not account for.
No, she thought, a corporate merger was not a trivial thing at all—it was something you could marry a stranger for!
And then make love to Her until she fell in love with you— hopelessly, helplessly!
But he hadn't asked her to fall in love with him, she thought. He had asked for nothing more than a passionate companion for a week—a pleasant, relaxing interlude before resuming his real life. Making money.
Well, I made money out of it too, she thought defiantly. And now I'm going home to spend it. It's what I came for, and it's what I'm going home with.
Falling for Nikos was an aberration, a mistake. I'll go home and forget all about him.
I have to!
A steward came into the room and walked up to Nikos, saying something to him in Greek. Nikos nodded curtly, and the man hurried off.
Nikos got to his feet. He looked so tall, Andrea thought. And so devastating. Just the way he'd looked the first time she'd set eyes on him. It seemed a lifetime ago, not just a few short weeks.
Weeks that had changed her life for ever.
'Excuse me—but I have to take a phone call.' He sounded remote. Preoccupied.
She nodded. There seemed to be an immovable lump in her throat suddenly.
'Of course.'
Later, she stood on deck beside him, watching the yacht slide into its moorings. Then, later still, she sat beside him in the chauffeured limo driving them back to Athens. There was a third passenger, a young man introduced as Nikos's PA, and the moment the doors were closed the PA extracted a sheaf of papers and documents. In a moment he and Nikos were deep in business talk. Andrea looked out of the window.
She felt bleak, and sick, cold all the way through.
I'm leaving him, she thought. I'm leaving him right now...
The car made its slow way into Athens's business quarter, and as i
t finally pulled up outside Vassilis Inc she felt even bleaker, and sicker.
Nikos turned to her briefly.
'Yannis will drive you to the apartment. You must make yourself at home. I am sorry not to be able to accompany you myself, but something has come up—hence Demetrios's reception committee. I am sorry, but I could not avoid it. I will escape from the office as quickly as I can and we will have the evening together. Until then—'
He bent forward to kiss her.
She could not bear it. She jerked her head sideways, con scious, if nothing else, of the PA's presence. Nikos's kiss landed on her cold cheek.
Can you feel your heart break? thought Andrea, as Nikos climbed out of the car after his PA. Because mine broke, I know, just then.
She shut her eyes, leaning back into the seat. The car moved off.
Tears misted over her eyes.
After a while, she realised she would have to give the driver new instructions. He seemed surprised when she asked him to drive her to the airport, but did it dutifully enough.
On the way there she wrote a note. Every word drew blood from her heart.
Dear Nikos
I am going back to England. We have both got what we wanted out of this marriage. You got Coustakis Industries. I got my money. Thank you for our time together in Crete— you were a wonderful first lover. I'm sure you'll make a huge success of running Coustakis Industries. Please ask your lawyers to sort out our divorce as soon as possible. Thank you.
Andrea.
It was all she could manage. And it cost her more than she could bear to pay.
She left it with the chauffeur to deliver it to Nikos.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
'What do you think, Mum? Down on the coast or further up in the hills? Where do you want to live?'
Andrea's voice was bright and relentlessly cheerful, just as it had been since she had arrived back two weeks ago, bursting with the wonderful, glorious news that her grandfather, so she had told her mother, had given them enough money to settle their debts and allow them to move to Spain.
But, for all her determined high spirits, Andrea could see her mother was worried about her. Oh, she had been bowled over by the fantastic news about the money, which had settled their debts with a single cheque, and she had commented on how well Andrea looked with her sun-bronzed skin and burnished hair, and how she was walking, it seemed, with much greater confidence and assurance, but even so Andrea could sense Kim's concern.
She didn't want her mother worrying. Not about anything— least of all her. So she chattered away brightly as she prepared their evening meal, talking about Spain and the imminent prospect of living there. She was desperate to move as soon as possible. Perhaps, in Spain, starting her new life, she could start to forget Nikos...
Nikos—
Pain clenched at her heart. No—she mustn't trunk, mustn't remember. It was gone, over, finished. She was starting a new life now—that was the only important thing to think about.
tat and making Kim happy. She mustn't, mustn't let Kim suspect anything...
She mustn't see your heart is broken...
She smiled determinedly at Kim.
'It's going to be all right, Mum. Everything's going to be just wonderful from now on! Just wonderful!'
Kim smiled and took her daughter's hand. 'You are the best daughter a mother could have—always know that, my darling girl,' she said softly, her eyes searching her daughter's face.
'I love you so much,' Andrea choked, realising it had been worth everything just to know that she could at last repay her mother for her years of devotion. What did a broken heart matter? The sudden imperative knocking on the front door made them both start.
Kim immediately looked nervous, and Andrea pugnacious. 'Ignore it, Mum. They'll try somewhere else.' Increasingly wild and aggressive kids often did the rounds at this time of day, the early evening, knocking on doors to see if they could cadge money from anyone inside.
Thank God we 're getting out of here, thought Andrea feelingly.
They would be in Malaga in forty-eight hours—not for good, just for a fortnight's flat-hunting—and Andrea could hardly wait. Searching for an apartment would occupy her mind. Stop her thinking, remembering...aching...
The knocking came again, even more imperative.
'Right,' said Andrea, 'I've had enough of this.'
She marched out of the kitchen and to the front door, ready to confront them, but the dark outline showing behind the strengthened frosted glass panel revealed a tall, masculine frame.
The demanding knocking came again, and Andrea heard the futile buzz of the broken doorbell being sounded. Like so much else on the estate, it was soil waiting for the council to mend it.
As she yanked the door open to find steel-grey eyes blazing down at her, her heart stopped.
Nikos Vassilis stepped inside, forcing her to stumble back wards on numb, frozen legs.
'Don't ever,' he said in a voice that made her spine chill, 'walk out on me again.'
Shock drenched through Andrea, wave after cold wave. But beneath the disbelieving horror another emotion had seared like flame through her.
'How—how...?' she floundered.
'How did I track you down? With great difficulty, I assure you!' His voice grated the words. He glanced around disparagingly at the shabby, narrow hallway, its smell of damp quite perceptible. 'And with such a bolt-hole as this I am not surprised it took the investigators so long to find you! What is this dump?' His mouth twisted disdainfully at the evident poverty of her surroundings.
"This dump,' said a quiet voice from the kitchen doorway, 'is my home, Mr—?'
Andrea whirled. Kim was standing there, her expression wary and questioning.
'Vassilis,' supplied Nikos curtly. 'Nikos Vassilis. I have come for Andrea.'
‘I’m not going with you!' Andrea cried out. She couldn't believe what was happening—couldn't believe it was really Nikos standing there, his svelte, expensive presence shrieking money, looking as out of place in the hallway of a tower block council flat as if he were an alien from another planet.
'What's going on?' asked Kim anxiously, coming forward.
'Nothing! Nothing at all,' Andrea replied instantly. ‘Mr Vassilis,' she gritted, 'has made a mistake! He's leaving right now! Without me!'
'Wrong.' Nikos's voice was deadly. His eyes narrowed. 'Get your things—and make sure your passport is among them!'
'I'm not going anywhere!'
'You are going,' he ground out, 'back to Athens! You were somewhat premature in your departure, I must point out. You might have got the money you wanted from your grandfather—your main interest, was it not—?' his voice was scathing '—but your precipitate departure has made him feel... cheated.
He wants you back in Athens to fulfil your...obligations. Otherwise,' he spelt out, 'he will not proceed with the merger!'
It was her turn for her face to harden.
'Oh, well, we mustn't get in the way of the precious merger, must we?' she flared, 'That was, after all, your main interest, was it not?' Deliberately she echoed his words, confronting him with the truth of why he had ever looked twice at her!
It did not hit its mark.
'There were other...interests...as I recall... Ones that I fully intend to resume when you return to Athens to fulfil your...obligations. Ne?’ His voice trailed off, but his eyes washed over her. Weakness flooded through her—and memory—hot, humid memory.
He saw it in her eyes, and smiled. A blighting smile that had no humour in it. 'You see, I too, Andrea mou, feel cheated by your precipitate and so unexpected departure.'
She heard the anger in his voice—suppressed, restrained, but savage beneath the words. There was something more than anger hi it too, she realised. Something raw, and painful.
Then he had snapped his gaze past her, the tight, controlled mask back on his face, and rested it where Kim was hovering, a puzzled, anxious look on her face.
'I
need to speak to Andrea. Privately. If you would be so kind—?'
'I've got nothing to say to you!' Andrea flashed back at him.
Steel eyes, flecked with gold, rested on her. 'But I,' he said with a softness that raised the hairs at the nape of her neck, 'have a great deal to say to you, Andrea mou.'