by Lynne Graham
‘Go to sleep,’ Sergios urged then, both arms still wrapped round her damp, trembling body. ‘You’ll exhaust yourself fretting about Eleni tomorrow.’
That he should know her so well almost made her laugh but she was too tired to find amusement in anything. Worry about Melita and Eleni and the passion had exhausted her and she fell heavily asleep.
* * *
Her first night back in London, Bee spent with her mother, who was both excited and apprehensive about her approaching move to Greece. Eleni was admitted to hospital the next morning. Both a nurse and the surgeon had talked Bee through every step of the entire procedure, which was likely to take less than an hour to complete, but Bee remained as nervous as a cat on hot bricks on Eleni’s behalf, particularly because the little girl was too young to be prepared for the discomfort that might follow the surgery.
‘We’ve already discussed all this,’ Sergios reminded Bee firmly, very much a rock in the storm of her concern and anxiety. ‘There is very little risk attached to this procedure and she will recover quickly from it. It may not improve her hearing but she is falling so far behind with her speech that it is worth a try.’
Cradling Eleni’s solid little body in her lap with protective arms, Bee blinked back tears that embarrassed her for she had long since decided that surgery was currently the best treatment available. ‘She’s just so little and trusting.’
‘Like you were when you married me,’ Sergios quipped with a rueful grin, startling her with that light-hearted sally. ‘You really didn’t have a clue what you were signing up for but it hasn’t turned out too bad for you, has it?’
‘Ask me that in a year’s time,’ Bee advised, in no mood to stroke his ego.
‘What a very begrudging response when I’m trying so hard to be the perfect husband!’ he mocked.
Bee looked up at his handsome face and felt her heart leap like a dizzy teenager’s. The perfect husband? Since when? And why? She had made no complaints, so it could not be her he was trying to influence. Most probably he was trying to please his grandfather, who was openly keen to see his only surviving grandson settling down with a family. But she didn’t want Sergios putting on an act purely to impress Nectarios. Anything of that nature was almost certain to make Sergios feel deprived of free choice and she did not want their marriage to feel like an albatross hanging round his neck.
Bee accompanied Eleni to the very doors of the operating theatre and then waited outside with Sergios. He had taken the whole day off, which really surprised her. It was true that he stepped out several times to make and receive phone calls and that a PA brought documents for his signature, but it was so unusual for him to put work second that she was very appreciative of his continuing support.
The surgery was completed quickly and successfully and Bee took a seat by Eleni’s bed. By that stage the little girl was already regaining consciousness. While she was groggy she was not, it seemed, in pain and, reassured by Bee’s presence at her bedside, she soon drifted off to sleep. One of the nannies arrived to sit with the child while Sergios took Bee out for a meal and a much-needed break.
‘You’re exhausted. Why do I employ a team of nannies only to find you in this state? Come home with me,’ Sergios urged when Bee’s head began to nod towards the latter stages of their meal.
Her eyes widened and she studied him ruefully. ‘I should be there if Eleni wakes up again and there is a bed in the room for me to use,’ she reminded him. ‘I won’t have an entirely sleepless night.’
‘Sometimes you should put yourself first,’ Sergios reasoned levelly.
Bee tensed at that declaration and lost colour. Would he tell himself that when he felt the need for something a little more exotic than the marital bed could offer him? Would boredom or lust be his excuse? Would he even need an excuse or was sex with Melita already so familiar that it would not feel like a betrayal of his marital vows? She studied his features: the level line of his brows, the stunning dark golden eyes above those blade-straight cheekbones and the wide carnal mouth that could transport her to paradise. Her cheeks burned as she tore her attention from him. She should challenge him about Melita. Why wasn’t she doing that? When would there ever be a right moment for such a distressing confrontation?
When Eleni was lying in a hospital bed was definitely not the right time, she decided unhappily. That conversation was not something she wanted to plunge blindly into either. She needed to know exactly what she planned to say and right at that instant it felt like too emotive a subject for her to maintain a level head. She didn’t want to shout or cry. She was determined to retain her dignity. After all she was in love with him and at the end of the day dignity might be all she had left to embrace, along with the empty shell of her marriage as they both retired behind their respective barriers. Would they ever share a bed again after that conversation?
‘What’s wrong?’ Sergios demanded abruptly. ‘You look haunted. Eleni’s going to be fine. Stop doing this to yourself. It was a straightforward procedure and it went perfectly.’
‘I know…I’m sorry. I think I’m just tired,’ Bee muttered evasively, embarrassed that he could read her well enough to know that she was currently existing in a sort of mental hell. Melita was a sexy stunner; there was no getting round that hard fact. Every man in the taverna between fifteen and eighty-odd years had been staring appreciatively at the racy blonde. Just at that instant Bee could not forget, humiliatingly, that she had had to get half naked and swing provocatively round a pole to tempt her highly sexed and sophisticated husband into making their marriage a real one.
‘You worry far too much about stuff.’ Sergios shook his handsome dark head in emphasis. ‘It’s like you’re always on the lookout for trouble.’
Bee was back by Eleni’s bed when her cell phone vibrated silently in receipt of a text and she took it out of her jacket pocket, wondering wearily if it would be Jon Townsend again. Once he knew she would be over in London he had asked her to lunch with key charity personnel. Too concerned about Eleni’s needs to spare the time for such an occasion, Bee had hedged. But it was not Jon texting her this time…
I’m in London. I would like to meet you in private. Melita.
Aghast at the idea while noting that the word private was emphasised, Bee looked at her phone as though it had jumped up and bitten her. Her husband’s mistress was actually texting her? Was it for real? But for what possible reason would anyone try to set Bee up with a fake text purporting to be from Melita? Assuming the text was genuine, how on earth had Melita Thiarkis got Bee’s phone number? Had she taken it from Sergios’s phone? It was the most likely explanation and as such hit Bee’s spirits hard because it was not long since she had got a new number and if Melita was in possession of it, it suggested very recent contact between Sergios and the other woman.
Bee got little sleep that night although Eleni slept like a little snoring log. Sergios put in an appearance on his way into his London office. Bee was in the corridor and noticed the ripple of interest that her extraordinarily good-looking husband excited among the nursing staff. With his tall, wide-shouldered, long-legged frame encased in a charcoal-grey designer suit, Sergios looked spectacular. Eleni was equally impressed and whooped with glee when he came through the door and held out her arms.
An odd little smile softened the hard line of Sergios’s mouth as he set down the package in his hand. Bending down, he scooped the little girl gently out of her bed, addressing her in Greek as he did so.
And for the very first time Eleni answered, looking up at him with big dark eyes. The words were indistinct and the sentence structure non-existent, but it was a response she would not have attempted before the surgery.
‘I noticed she was more attentive to what I was saying from the minute she woke up this morning,’ Bee told him with forced brightness. ‘She’s definitely able to hear more. Her e
yes don’t wander the same way when you’re speaking to her either.’
Bee helped Eleni unwrap the wooden puzzle that Sergios had brought and pulled up the bed table for the little girl’s use. A ward maid popped her head round the door and offered them a cup of coffee.
‘Not for me, thanks,’ Sergios responded. ‘I have an early meeting.’
‘If her consultant thinks everything is in order, Eleni will be released later this afternoon,’ Bee revealed.
‘Good. The boys missed you last night,’ Sergios told her.
If he had told her that he had missed her she would have thrown herself into his arms like a homing pigeon, but no such encouraging declaration passed his lips. Nor would it, Bee reflected wretchedly. Sergios didn’t say sentimental stuff like that or make emotional statements. She loved a guy who would never ever tell her he loved her back. And why would he settle solely for Bee’s charms when he already had a woman like Melita and countless other discreet lovers eternally on offer to him? He was an immensely wealthy tycoon and, when it came to women and sex, spoilt for choice and it would always be that way. Somehow, she didn’t know yet how, she would have to come to terms with the reality of their marriage. Possibly meeting Melita Thiarkis in the flesh would be a sensible first step in that much-needed process.
That decision made, Sergios had barely left the building before Bee texted the other woman to set up the requested meeting. After all, what did she have to lose? Sergios wouldn’t like the idea of them meeting at all but why should that bother her? He would never find out, would he? Had he chosen to be more frank about the relationship, however, Bee would probably have ignored the text from his mistress. Melita replied immediately and asked Bee to meet her in the bar of her Chelsea hotel mid-morning. Wary of staging such a delicate encounter in a public place, Bee suggested she come to her room instead.
Bee would very much have liked her entire designer wardrobe on hand to choose from before she met up with Melita. But, travelling direct from the hospital, that was not possible and Bee, not only had very little choice about what to wear, but despised the vain streak of insecurity that had prompted such a superficial thought. She could hardly hope to top a fashion designer in the style stakes, she told herself wryly as she freshened up her make-up and left Eleni with her nanny for company. Pausing only to tell her security team of two that she did not require them, she walked out of the hospital.
The receptionist sent her straight up to Melita’s room on the first floor. She knocked only once on the door before it opened to frame the strikingly attractive woman, who even at that point impressed Bee as being vastly overdressed for morning coffee in her low-cut glittering jacket, narrow skirt and very high heels.
‘Beatriz…’ Melita murmured smoothly. ‘I’m so grateful that you agreed to come, but let’s not tell Sergios about this. Men hate it when we go behind their backs.’
CHAPTER TEN
BEE took due note of the fact that her husband’s mistress, Melita, was more scared of consequences than she was. As Bee had no intention of keeping their meeting a secret unless it suited her to do so, she did not reply.
Melita already had a pot of coffee waiting in her opulent hotel room with its black and white designer chic decor. She sat down opposite Bee, a process that took a good deal of cautious lowering and wriggling in six-inch heels and a black skirt so tight it would split if put under too much pressure. Melita walked a thin line between sexy and tarty.
‘I didn’t think that Sergios would ever marry again,’ the Greek woman said plaintively. ‘But we’re adults. There’s no reason why we can’t be, er…distant friends.’
Only one, Bee completed inwardly. If you sleep with my husband I might try to murder you.
‘Sergios and I have been very close for a great many years,’ Melita informed her with a self-satisfied smile.
Not a muscle moving on her taut face, Bee compressed her lips and pretended to sip at the too-hot coffee that Melita had poured for her. ‘I guessed that.’
‘I have no intention of poaching on your territory,’ Melita declared importantly. ‘I’ve never wanted to be a wife or a mother, so I don’t covet what you have.’
‘But you do covet Sergios,’ Bee heard herself say helplessly.
‘Any woman would covet him,’ the other woman fielded, her sultry eyes widening in amused emphasis. ‘But there’s no reason why we can’t share him.’
‘Just one,’ Bee murmured flatly. ‘I don’t share.’
Melita’s pencilled brows drew together in surprise at that bold statement. ‘Is that a declaration of war?’
‘It’s whatever you choose to make of it. Why did you invite me here?’ Bee enquired drily.
‘I wanted to reassure you that I have no desire to damage your marriage. Sergios really does need a wife to do wifely things like looking after his houses and his children. Naturally I’m aware that it is a marriage of…shall we say…’ Melita looked unconvincingly coy for a moment ‘…mutual convenience?’
‘Oh, dear…is that what Sergios told you?’ Bee asked, wincing with an acting ability she had not known she possessed, for she refused to cringe at the apparent level of Melita’s knowledge about Sergios’s reasons for marrying her. ‘Men can be so reluctant to break bad news. I’m afraid our marriage is rather more than one of convenience.’
‘If by that you mean that Sergios shares your bed, I expected that. After all you’re there when I can’t be and he’s a man, very much a man,’ Melita purred with glinting eyes of sensual recollection.
For a split second Bee felt so sick that she almost ran into the en suite and lost her sparse hospital breakfast. She could not bear to think of Melita naked and intimately wound round Sergios. That hurt, that hurt like a punch in the stomach. Nor could she bear to consider herself a sexual substitute, a sort of cheap and available fast-food option instead of the grand banquet of thrilling sensuality that she imagined Melita might offer.
‘You do realise, I hope, that your husband is still shagging me every chance he gets!’ Dropping the civilised front with a resounding crash, Melita surveyed Bee with angry, resentful dark eyes. ‘He was with me on your wedding night and I have no intention of giving him up.’
‘Whatever,’ Bee framed woodenly, setting down the cup with precise care and rising to her feet again with all the dignity she could muster. ‘I think we’ve shared a little too much for comfort. If you contact me again I’ll tell Sergios.’
‘Don’t you dare threaten me!’ Melita ranted furiously.
Bee walked out and she didn’t look back or breathe until she was safe inside the lift again. Sergios was still sleeping with his mistress and had been from the first night of their marriage. Why was she so shocked? What else had she expected? That a man with a notoriously active libido would suddenly turn over a new leaf on entering a platonic marriage? That had never been a possibility. Before their marriage she had agreed to him maintaining his relationship with Melita. He had said upfront that Melita was not a negotiable facet of his life. Having received that warning, she had chosen to ignore it by allowing their marriage to become much more real than either of them had ever envisaged.
Leaving the hotel, Bee was blank-eyed, her mind in chaos and emotions raging through her in horribly distressing waves. She didn’t know where she was going but she knew she couldn’t return to the hospital in such a state, nor would she involve her mother when she was so upset. Her cell phone was ringing and she checked it. It was Jon Townsend. Heaving a sigh, but in a strange way grateful for the distraction, Bee answered his call. He invited her to join him at his apartment for lunch with the charity’s PR woman. It was somewhere to go, something to do in a world rocking on its foundations, and she agreed and boarded a bus, too wrapped in her own unhappy thoughts to notice that she was being followed.
Sergios had already cancelle
d appointments and left his office, planning to meet with Beatriz at the hospital. The news that she had met up with Melita had hit him like a torpedo and almost blown him out of the water. Where had that come from? How had that happened? What had he done to deserve that outcome? Nourishing a strong sense of injustice along with the suspicion that he was being royally stitched up, Sergios was in no mood to receive the bodyguard’s second piece of news: Beatriz had entered an apartment owned by Jon Townsend?
‘Beatriz…’ From the minute Bee stepped through the door, she began regretting having agreed to lunch. Jon was alone, the PR lady apparently having been held up in traffic. Unfortunately her host’s effusive welcome made Bee feel even more awkward.
Bee toyed with the salad on her plate and for the third time attempted to steer their conversation back to the subject of the charity and away from the past times that Jon seemed much more eager to discuss.
‘We were so close back then.’ Jon sighed fondly.
‘Not as close as I thought at the time. We were still very young,’ Bee pointed out lightly.
‘I didn’t realise how much you meant to me until it was too late and I’d lost you,’ Jon said baldly.
‘It happens.’ Her attempted smile of acknowledgement was a mere twist of her lips, for she was in no frame of mind to deal tactfully with Jon’s evident determination to resurrect their shared past. ‘If you had been happy with me you wouldn’t have strayed.’
Jon brought a hand down on top of hers and she was so irritated with him that she very nearly lifted her other hand to stab him with the fork. ‘Jenna—’