That, and only that, was what he needed to hold onto.
He stood with a sound of frustration, giving up altogether on the idea of sleep. He began to walk towards the door and then thought better of it. He retraced his steps angrily and lifted the vase of flowers. One of the bougainvillea stalks grazed his forearm with a sharp needle. Blood seeped out slowly.
He ground his teeth together as he carried the flowers out of the villa and dumped them in the garden beside the front door.
It was a cathartic act, and afterwards, he made a pot of coffee and settled to his desk. Work, the act of concentrating on problems he could easily solve, always calmed him.
And so he worked, hoping that eventually, calmness would come.
CHAPTER SIX
Hunger, finally, drove her from the guest room. Still wrapped in the robe, with a face that was ashen and eyes that were red, she padded downstairs slowly and silently. Perhaps, if she was very lucky, her husband would be gone.
She did not wish to – and felt she could not – face him yet.
Her luck, though, had deserted her. Alex was in the kitchen, dressed casually, staring out of the window at the rolling ocean. Sophie froze in the doorway, and began to step backwards.
Hungry or not, she couldn’t do it.
Only he heard her and spun around, his face a dark mask of feeling before he smoothed it away. Sophie’s throat worked overtime as she tried to bring moisture back to her mouth. Her traitorous body frothed with desire. She dropped her eyes away and moved to the opposite side of the kitchen. It was large; she could avoid him, even while being in the same room.
“Sophie.” She stared at the kitchen bench as though it were suddenly the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.
“Sophie,” his word was a haunting reminder of how things had once been for them.
She swallowed but her throat was lined with razors. Nothing brought relief from the pain.
And what could he say, anyway? She bit down on her lower lip and shook her head slowly. “I just came down to get something to eat,” her words were a husk. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I can’t talk to you yet. I don’t know what to say.”
He was right behind her. She felt him before he spoke. He put his hands lightly on her shoulders and that now-familiar frisson of need began to bubble in her gut.
She couldn’t tell if she turned to face him with reluctance or anticipation, only that she did spin in his arms. His face, at least, reflected some of her trepidation. He scanned her features with slow, deliberate curiosity and then wrapped his hands around her wrists. He lifted them and subjected them to the same steady study.
“Did I hurt you?”
Yes, she wanted to shout. Her heart had been smashed into a billion tiny pieces. But she knew that wasn’t what he meant. She dropped her eyes and shook her head. The truth was, she’d never been more intensely satisfied than that night, and that terrified her.
“Sophie,” it was a plea, torn from his body.
She lifted her eyes to his face again, uncertainty making her slow to speak.
“Are you looking for me to say that it doesn’t matter? Or to somehow absolve you for what happened last night?”
He closed his eyes briefly. “No.”
“Good.” She pulled her wrists away and turned her back to him. She was starving, but the idea of staying in the kitchen was anathema to her. She pulled a banana from the fruit bowl and side-stepped away from him. “I don’t know what happened, and I have nothing I can say to you right now.”
He watched her move towards the door, and the words he’d been thinking all night were locked in his mind. I was angry because you are cheating on me. Because you and Eric are involved and Helena and I deserve better. But he couldn’t say them. Pride and resentment held him quiet.
And so, when she was almost out of the kitchen he said instead, “I am leaving again today.”
Only the fact that she stopped walking showed that Sophie had heard him. She nodded without turning back. “Okay.” He suspected tears had softened the word. He swore softly under his breath and dragged a hand through his hair. She was taking the piece of fruit and walking out of the villa, toward the terrace that overlooked the sea. Too late he thought of the flowers he’d discarded in the middle of the night.
They were there, and of course she saw them. The flowers lay in scattered disarray by the door. From the shade of the decked area, her eyes kept drifting to them. They were a perfect symbol of the strangely broken state they found themselves in. A graphic representation of her dashed hopes and ridiculous-seeming enthusiasm.
But was it so ridiculous? Married for a week, and separated for nights, she had missed him with an entirely appropriate intensity. They had parted with warmth; they had married out of love. So what had happened?
The more Sophie thought about it, the more she realised that she was missing something incredibly important. People didn’t just switch their emotions like that. It wasn’t possible.
She thought back to all the beautiful memories she had of their early acquaintance and a smile touched her lips. He did love her. Their marriage was founded on the kind of heart-scoring intensity that made it brightly real and overpowering.
The hateful flowers were mocking her. She moved further from the house, down the steep side garden that led to the ocean. A large rock was beneath a tree; she sat on it so that she could brood in comfort.
For Alex to have reverberated with such cold anger the night before must surely have meant that something had happened.
But what?
For the life of her, Sophie couldn’t imagine … until she could. Realisation dawned with the most sublimely perfect clarity that she startled.
He knew about Helena.
She dropped her head forward and gasped.
He knew about Helena, and what was more, she’d bet her last penny that he knew she and Eric had kept it from him.
Sophie stood abruptly and walked quickly back towards the house.
“Alex?” She almost ran down the hallway, and with each step she took, she became more and more convinced that she was right.
“Alex?” She stood very still and waited to hear noise. But the house was silent. Only Alena, out washing the walls near the pool, was moving in the midst of apparent calm. Sophie moved to her on autopilot. “Excuse me, Alena, have you seen Mr Petrides.”
“No, I’m sorry, ma’am,” she responded in broken English.
“Damn it.” She spun around and planted her hands on the hips. She surveyed the house from between shuttered eyes.
Had he already left? She moved back into the house and checked the bedroom they’d shared. The bed was made. Her eyes were drawn to his empty bedside table and she thought again of the beautiful arrangement she’d left there. The gift he’d discarded.
Because he had been upset! Angry! Hurt!
Yes!
He had discovered something whilst interviewing the nanny. Perhaps he’d spoken to Helena, or Eric. Something had happened; it was as clear to her as the diamond she wore on her ring finger.
She ran upstairs again, into the room she’d used the night before and lifted her phone. A little red number called her attention to her messages and she opened them, her heart in her throat with the hope that she’d find Alex had already messaged to explain.
But it wasn’t Alex. It was a number she didn’t recognise.
“I’m here! Only I don’t know where in Corfu you are. Send me the address.”
She frowned, and was about to delete it without replying when the same number began to show on her screen as a call. Impatient, she answered with a gruff, “Yes?”
“Well, that’s no way to greet your sister.”
Sophie felt tears spring to her eyes at the welcome sound of Olivia’s voice.
“You’re here? In Greece?”
“I’m in Kerkyra. I found a bar not too far from the airport. This place is amazing. I could get lost in ancient laneways very happily.�
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Sophie thought despondently of the exploration she hadn’t done. The island had been beckoning, and she’d been too wrapped up first in Alex, and then in desolation, to do any of it justice.
“I’ll come to you,” she decided instantly. “Only I’ve got no idea how the hell to get to the town, so you’d better make yourself comfortable.”
“Can’t my new brother-in-law drive you?”
“Alex?” Sophie’s heartbeat accelerated. “He could, but he’s … away working.”
“Already? Some honeymoon.”
Sophie’s cheeks flushed. “He’s busy, Liv.”
“I know, I know. The price you pay for marrying a tycoon, ha?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She dug her toe into the carpet.
“Well? Hurry up. I’ll order you a champagne.”
“Oh… I’ll be driving …”
“Pish. Hurry up. I miss you!”
Sophie laughed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have arranged everything.”
She could practically hear Liv’s careless shrug. “I got a deal on a last minute flight. I hope it’s okay?”
“Okay. It’s bloody fantastic. I’ll see you soon.”
She moved quickly back to the bedroom and pulled a colourful dress off a hanger. It was a gorgeous shade of peach and turquoise and flattered her skin tones and eyes. The dress was simple cotton, strapless so that it ran straight across the top of her cleavage, hugged her to the waist and then flared in a short skirt to inches above her knees. It was perfect for the warm weather they’d been enjoying. Sophie slipped a pair of wedge-heeled sandals onto her feet and tidied her hair, then moved through the house.
The problem, of course, was that she had no idea where the cars were, and nor did she know who kept the keys. “Alena?” She emerged almost apologetically back to the pool.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Please, call me Sophie.” She said with a smile. “My sister has come to the island, and I’d like to go and collect her. Only I’ve no clue where the garage is.”
“Ah!” Alena’s face broke out into the most genuine smile Sophie had seen her employ since coming to the island. “That eez wonderful. But ‘Arry will drive you.”
“No, no, I don’t want to disturb him.”
“Mr Petrides ‘as asked ‘im to ‘elp you.”
“Oh.” She nodded awkwardly. “If it’s no trouble then.”
Sophie hadn’t yet met Alena’s husband but she knew he busied himself in the gardens and with the fleet of vehicles Alex kept on Corfu. When Alena appeared with him a few moments later, Sophie saw he was a short, round man with a twinkling gaze and kindly expression.
“It’s an honour,” he said, in native English.
“Likewise.”
“Alena says you would like to go to town?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “To Kerkyra. My sister’s there,” she finished lamely.
“My wife said. Are you ready?”
“Now? Yes. Yes I am.” She was suddenly desperate to see Olivia. Her sister could surely make everything seem better.
“Then let’s go.”
Sophie fell into step beside him as he made his way along the courtyard towards a long, low barn. He pressed a button in his pocket and the gate slid open to reveal seven sports cars. Sophie counted them to be certain. They were each immaculate and prestigious. There were several with unpronounceable names she’d never even heard of.
He caught her looking at the row of cars and grinned. “Do you have a preference?”
She shook her head quickly.
“We’ll take the Alfa. You’ll like it. Fast and elegant.” He opened the front passenger door for her. “It is one of Mr Petrides’s favourites.”
“Great.” She swallowed back the painful discomfort at the reference to her husband. “You’re from England?”
“Sure am, ma’am. Up north way.”
“Please, please, I beg you, stop calling me ma’am.” She already felt like a weird imposter. The confidence that she belonged in Alex’s life and home had rapidly evaporated.
“Mr Petrides prefers a degree of formality …”
“Perhaps he does, but I can assure you, I don’t.” The engine purred to life and Harry steered it down the narrow drive with admirable expertise. “I’m Sophie. I’m Australian. We’re not at all formal, really.”
“Very well, ma’am.”
She burst out laughing. It was hopeless. Better to accept her lot in life now that she was married to the all-powerful Alessandros Petrides.
“How far is town?”
“Under an hour.”
“So far. I hadn’t realised.” She pulled her phone out and texted her sister. “I’m an hour away. Sit tight.”
“Can’t wait to see you!!”
Sophie shook her head with a fond smile.
The road from Alex’s villa was so narrow that even the Alfa brushed the verge at times. It was right on the edge of a cliff, too, and beneath them, the ocean sparkled like diamonds dancing on liquid. Sophie was not nervous. Harry drove the car beautifully; he was confident and yet cautious, allowing her the freedom to simply enjoy the scenery. Much of the drive was through the less built up parts of the island. However, as they travelled further, eventually valleys and coves gave way to houses and shops. Before Sophie knew it, they were in downtown traffic, with the stunning laneways Olivia had referred to branching out in every direction.
“Oh!” She caught her breath as Harry turned a corner and the whole city opened up beneath them, like a blanket of terracotta rooves and sand-coloured walls. The buildings were straight-walled and flat-rooves, and they were built so close together that the car had to slow down to turn some corners. Shops with dark green awnings and gorgeous topiaried trees lined the sides of the road, and fountains cropped up as if from nowhere.
“This is stunning.”
“Yes. We think so. Alena and I live in the old-town.”
“Does it get older than this?” She queried with a tilt of her head.
He nodded. “The locals would call this the new part of town.” She sent him a disbelieving look and he laughed. “It’s only middle-aged. Where we live dates back to around twelve hundred BC. Not many of those buildings survive, of course, but the streets take a similar layout.”
“That’s absolutely mind-blowing.”
“Where is your sister?”
“Ummm…” She checked her phone and then placed it in the console. “The Farfalla bar?”
He lifted his brows. “She has expensive taste.”
Sophie laughed. “She has impeccable taste. More often than not, it tends to be expensive too, yes. Why? Is it a good place to go?”
“It is one of the premiere establishments on the island. Another favourite of your husband’s.”
Sophie nodded, but the little shards of jealousy were impossible to ignore. One didn’t go to bars solo, after all. No doubt Alex had frequented this ‘impeccable’ establishment with his past lovers.
She swallowed the unpalatable thought. She was about to see Liv for the first time in almost a year. That, and only that, required her attention.
“Oh.” She looked down at her dress with a grimace. “Will I be dressed … I mean …” her cheeks took on a becoming shade of pink and Harry found himself warming to his boss’s wife. “Is there a dress-code?” She finished her question, smiling apologetically at the man.
“Believe me, ma’am, no one will turn away Mrs Petrides. You could go in there wearing little more than a rag and you’d still get the best table in the place.”
Though he’d answered her question, his words were far from reassuring. Sophie caught her reflection in a tinted window as she moved towards the bar. Patrons were sitting at tables on the footpath in the very European al fresco style and there were little vases of bright purple flowers in the centre of each. Sophie moved past the other diners and towards the large glass and timber doors. They were opened inwards as she approached.
&n
bsp; “Good afternoon,” the man greeted in Greek.
Sophie checked her wrist watch and was surprised to see it was almost one o’clock. She scanned the restaurant and almost immediately saw her. Olivia Henderson, with her shimmering white-blonde hair, dark golden tan and sparkling green eyes, stood out anywhere. Here, in the midst of this glamorous bar, she looked like she’d walked off a catwalk, rather than a long-haul flight. And, unsurprisingly, she’d gathered a small crowd of admirers in the short time she’d been left waiting.
Sophie shook her head with a sense of amusement, and cut through the crowds.
“Hey!” Liv cried, cutting off one of the young men who was mid-sentence. “There you are!” She was taller than Sophie, and curvier too – with the kind of cleavage that was so generous it was almost an impediment. Or so Liv had complained on numerous occasions, when she’d found her dates so transfixed by her breasts that they were incapable of looking anywhere else for the duration of the meal. “Oh, my, God. I have missed you!” She wrapped her arms around Sophie’s neck and held her tight.
Sophie sobbed into her sister’s shoulder and nodded. The words she wanted to say were heavy in her mouth.
Liv pulled away, tears sparkling in her own eyes, as she lifted a hand to Sophie’s cheek. “God, you look great. You look so polished!” She lifted Sophie’s hand and made a low-whistle as she inspected the engagement ring Alex had surprised her with.
“That’s got to be six or seven carats, right?”
Sophie nodded vaguely. Actually, it was nine carats, something which had seemed ludicrous and excessive but on which Alex had been insistent. The solitaire was so large that the platinum and diamond band that encircled it had needed to be weighted at the base, to stop it from constantly swirling around her slim finger.
“Wow. Okay. Drinks are on you,” Liv teased, ignoring the group who’d been chatting to her and shepherding Sophie to a more private table by the window.
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to your new friends?”
She waved a hand impatiently through the air. “They were just fillers until you got here.”
Sophie laughed affectionately. Olivia had always been the social butterfly of every room she entered. She’d made friends effortlessly and won hearts with almost as little trouble. She was charming and interesting, and generally, people forgave her everything.
The Greek's Marriage Revenge: To have and to hold until truth do them part... (The Henderson Sisters Book 1) Page 9