Billionaires: They're powerful, hot, charming and richer than sin...

by Clare Connelly

“No.” She closed her eyes. “I don’t want to scare them. I’ll be fine. I just want to … speak with them. About anything. They always make me feel better.”

  Alex knew then that he wanted to be that person to Sophie. The one person who could take away any evil, or at least endure it by her side.

  “What about the family you work with? Can I call them for you?”

  “Oh, goodness. Yes.” She shook her head. “I mean, no. But I’ll need to notify them. Please just get my phone.”

  He nodded, and pulled it from her bag. Even the sight of it, with its bright pink case, made his stomach twist with memory. He listened as she spoke, so eloquently and calmly, and yet perfectly vaguely, explaining that she couldn’t work for a time.

  She disconnected the call but kept the phone clasped in her lap.

  “Are you going to call your sisters?” He prompted, reclining with assumed indolence against the wall.

  Sophie stared at the phone and shook her head. She wanted to hear their voices more than anything in the world, but she knew that one word from Ava and she’d burst into tears. It would be the same with Liv. They would know something bad had happened, and they would worry themselves sick.

  She lifted bleak eyes to his face. “You can go, Alex. I’d rather be alone.”

  “Are you going to slap me again?” He said mockingly, lifting his hand to his cheek.

  She might have smiled, in a past life. She didn’t now.

  Her lips quivered as she flipped her head on the pillow and eyed him warily. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. He didn’t say anything, and after a moment, Sophie gave up fighting. She closed her eyes and gave into the tears.

  A baby. Their baby. How had she not known? Why hadn’t she realised?

  And why had she lost it?

  When Alex put a hand on her head and stroked it softly, she didn’t move away. She allowed herself to take comfort from the contact, and to relish the touch.

  Though she would have sworn she wasn’t tired, Sophie was asleep within minutes. The next thing she knew, it was somewhere in the middle of the night. The room was mostly darkened, but for the faint electric glow cast by the hospital’s instruments. The sleeping shape of Alex was visible hunched in one of the upright chairs. She looked at him and hardened her heart.

  He was there because he felt guilty. A burden of responsibility, like he felt with Helena. That wasn’t the same thing as love. Wanting to fix someone and take over their life didn’t equate to caring.

  She tried to rearrange herself, to find a more comfortable position, but she was too uncomfortable, and so she flopped back as she’d been.

  When the morning light broke through the window, Alex was awake, and looking far more like his normal self. Despite the fact he still wore the previous day’s clothes, he was fresh and vibrant and heart-stoppingly, unfairly beautiful.

  “Good morning,” he spoke quietly, as though he feared she might yell at him. Except Alex wasn’t afraid of anything, least of all her.

  Sophie smiled at him out of habit, and then immediately regretted it.

  “How do you feel?”

  Empty. Alone. Cold. “I’m fine.”

  He held a plastic beaker of water out to her; Sophie took it and drank gratefully.

  “The doctor will be in soon. Would you like breakfast? Coffee?”

  Sophie shook her head.

  “Tea?”

  Her eyes lifted to his and she nodded. “Thanks.”

  He left the room and her sense of aloneness intensified. When first she’d moved to London, she had thought it the most beautiful place on earth. She had immediately known she wouldn’t ever think of Casa Celli as home again. But now, after the last few months, Sophie craved the peace and solitude of the vineyards to lick her wounds and recover. She needed the company of her sisters and the familiarity of her youth.

  At least, a part of her did.

  Alex was back within moments, carrying a fine bone porcelain cup of tea. From where he’d procured it, she couldn’t have guessed. Presumably one of the nurses had decided the standard chipped mugs in the kitchen weren’t good enough for a man such as him.

  “Thank you,” she murmured as he passed it over. Sophie held it in both hands, taking comfort from the warmth.

  She sipped and he watched, his expression indecipherable.

  Another doctor arrived shortly after she had finished drinking. He was tall and skinny, wiry like a rake, with fine hair that wisped over his brow. His eyes were intelligent and his face lined. Sophie warmed to him immediately.

  “Good morning, Mrs Petrides. How are you today?”

  “Fine, thanks.” It was an answer given by rote. The doctor disregarded it.

  “Any pain? Discomfort?”

  “Yes. Yes.” Her eyes lifted to Alex and he understood. She didn’t want him there. She was closing him out. But he needed to be with her. Didn’t she understand that? Didn’t she care?

  “That’s to be expected.” He pulled back the bed sheet to reveal Sophie’s hospital gown clad body. “May I?”

  She nodded, and the doctor began to move his hands over Sophie’s abdomen. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, ignoring Alex and wishing she was anywhere else.

  “Excellent.” He returned the sheet and smiled, first at Sophie and then at Alex. “You’ll be discharged this morning. I’m writing you a script for pain relief. Don’t be a hero. It’s perfectly fine to take when recovering from something like this.” He handed the script to her and she held it folded in her fingertips. “You’ll need to take a few days to recover. I mean complete recovery. Lying on the sofa, watching those terrible Real Housewife programs my wife is obsessed with.”

  She smiled despite her sense of oddness and grief.

  “Mr Petrides, there’s paperwork at the front you can complete when you’re ready. If you need any nursing assistance, mention it to the clerk.”

  “None will be necessary,” he said, his eyes not leaving Sophie’s face.

  “Excellent. Good luck to you, Mrs Petrides.” He nodded at Alex and then disappeared.

  Because Sophie knew Alex, she knew what he was planning, and she decided to be proactive from the get go. “You can help me get a cab. That would be great.”

  “You will be coming home with me.”

  “No, I won’t.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not going to stay with you.”

  His mouth was a grim line as he settled on the edge of the bed. “Aren’t you?” He reached forward and tucked her hair behind her ear.

  “I can’t.” She unfolded her arms and fidgeted with her fingers. “Please just go, Alex. You don’t need to be here.”

  “This is exactly where I need to be.”

  She closed her eyes. “I can’t go back to your house. I can’t ever step foot in it again. Surely you can see that it would be more harmful to me than anything else.”

  “Fine,” he didn’t see any sense in arguing the point. “I’ll hire a hotel room. But I am going to take care of you. I feel responsible, Sophie. Please don’t deny me the opportunity to help you now.”

  She thought about telling him that he could help by leaving her alone for good. That he could help by never going near her again. But a part of her, even then, was afraid he might do it if she asked often enough.

  “Why?” She said instead. “Why can’t you just go?”

  He lifted her hand and rubbed her empty ring finger. There was a very feint indent from where she’d worn the jewellery for a brief time.

  “Because you are my wife.”

  Her eyes swept shut at his words and her heart iced over. “A stupid joke,” she muttered angrily.

  “No. A clever twist of fate.”

  She shook her head.

  “Do you know why I thought the worst of you Sophie? Why I believed you to have engaged in affairs with both Eric and the man from Sydney?”

  “Because you’re suspicious, cynical and untrusting?
”

  His lip twisted in a half-smile. “No. Because I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you, half hidden beneath the sofa. I loved you. Your voice, your energy, you. And how could any man not feel as I did? How could any man not see you and want you, as I did, with a total, full-body response?”

  She blinked her eyes opened and stared at him as though he must surely have thought her to be some kind of idiot. “You’re being ridiculous. You never loved me. I’d go so far as to say you hated me. Or you would never have gone through with this ridiculous plan to get me out of Helena’s life.”

  “I loved you then, Sophie, and I love now. Do not argue with me. I always win. Eventually, you will accept that.”

  “Eventually … Alex, it’s over between us. I can’t … I won’t … forgive you.”

  “You will.” His smile now was confident. “Stay here. I’ll arrange for you to be checked out.”

  “Discharged,” she muttered to his retreating back. “It’s a hospital, not a hotel.” She looked down at herself hopelessly, feeling more alone than she ever had in her whole life. “I have nothing to wear.”

  He frowned. Her clothes from yesterday were nowhere in sight. “Okay. Wait here.”

  “Do I have any other choice?” She queried with a sarcastic smile. And even then, angry with him and desperately miserable, she knew she was being rude and unfair. He had lost their baby too. And he was trying to help. Only she’d run out of any kind of generosity of spirit.

  In barely no time at all, Alex was back clutching a dark green shopping bag. “Would you like help changing?”

  She scowled at him, but didn’t perceive any innuendo in the question.

  He lifted his hands. “It was a genuine question, agape mou.”

  “I’m fine.” She took the bag without thanking him and peered inside. A black sweater and a pair of jeans were inside, complete with fresh underwear.

  “Wait outside. Please.”

  “It was a serious offer of help, Sophie. You might be weak …”

  “Then I’ll buzz for a nurse,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Okay. Fine.” Alex tamped down on his frustration. He had lost any right to expect Sophie to simply be an unquestioning part of his life.

  Out of nowhere, he thought back to the first week on Corfu, when she had been so happy she’d practically beamed with light and pleasure. He thought back to those heady days, when they’d shared one another’s bodies and they’d talked and laughed as though they were careless and divinely euphoric. That brief, glimmering window of perfection that he’d smashed with his idiotic plan. What he wouldn’t give to go back to that perfect oasis of time and hold it tight to his chest.

  She dressed slowly, and Alex was on the verge of bursting back into her room when Sophie finally emerged. She’d washed her face and finger combed her hair, but she still looked a long way from well.

  “Ready?” He smothered the worry from his voice, instinctively understanding that she didn’t want sympathy. “My car is out the front.”

  She fell into step beside him, and the whole way, she knew she should separate herself from this man. Except she was tired, and she didn’t feel great. It was only with enormous effort that she was able to walk without showing any physical signs of discomfort.

  Alessandro Petrides was parked on double yellow lines just outside the hospital. His windshield had a host of paper on the front and he ripped them out impatiently.

  “Alex,” Sophie said sharply. “You’re illegally parked.”

  The look he sent her was rich with disbelief. “Did you think I would waste time searching for a better spot while you were in hospital?”

  She didn’t let her heart swell. He felt guilty, that was all.

  “You must have a thousand pounds in fines there.”

  “Worth it,” he held her door open and waited patiently while she settled herself into the seat. He had to ball his hands into his pockets to stop from aiding her.

  As soon as he took up his seat, the car felt smaller somehow.

  “Ready?”

  “You don’t need to do this, Alex,” she offered, in a final attempt to convince him she would be fine on her own.

  His only response was to snap the car into gear and slip it out into traffic.

  He’d booked the penthouse suite at an upmarket Knightsbridge hotel. It had views of Harrods in one direction and Hyde Park in the other. Once Sophie was settled onto the luxurious sofa, she thought she’d relax.

  Only Alex was worse than a tightly coiled spring.

  “Are you hungry yet?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “How about tea? Would you like more tea?”

  Sophie glared at him. “No.”

  “A movie then. What would you like to watch?”

  “Nothing.”

  He came to sit at her feet. “A book perhaps? A magazine?”

  Sophie couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. “Please, just stop! I just need to sit quietly for a while.”

  Alex nodded. “Okay. We can do that.”

  Sophie lay her head back on the fluffy pillows and stared at the ceiling. To his credit, Alex managed to stay silent, though he was anxious and eager to do something – anything – that would ease her suffering. Only every time he opened his mouth, he looked at her face and saw the ghosting emotions there. And it silenced him.

  “How did I not realise I was pregnant?” She said finally, a disjointed sounding plea into the cavernous lounge area.

  Alex lifted her feet onto his lap. He spoke slowly, with softness. “I’ve been doing some reading. Some women don’t experience any symptoms.”

  “I felt just the same as normal. I mean, I guess I’ve been distracted because of … everything … but I haven’t been sick, or tired, or sore anywhere.”

  He rubbed the soles of her feet, and watched as her features relaxed visible. “It seems that happens sometimes.

  “But maybe if I’d known I could have done something. I could have been more careful.”

  Alex moved his hands to her legs and ran them over the jeans. “Agape mou, do not blame yourself.” He dipped his head forward. “If anyone is responsible, then it is me. I upset you. I put you through a traumatic argument. I should have made you safe and happy for the rest of your life, instead of causing you to feel this way.”

  She cast him a doleful look. “I don’t think that’s possible of anyone, for anyone. In fact, it’s frankly absurd to think you could do such a thing. Other people’s happiness does not rest on your shoulders.” And because she was tired and fraught, she spoke more frankly than she might otherwise have. “Not mine. Not Helena’s.”

  He closed his eyes and nodded. He understood what she was referring to. “I have spent almost my whole life doing it though; fighting her fights and helping her when she asked. I didn’t stop to question her request. And I should have. For both of your sakes.”

  Sophie settled further back into the pillows. “That you love your sister so much is to your credit. It’s not your motivation I fault, so much as your method.”

  “I fault both. My motivation was to help her, but I didn’t bother seeing what she really needed.”

  “Not your job,” Sophie said simply. She was tired. The painkillers she’d had right before leaving the hospital must have been kicking in. Her eyes fluttered shut.

  But Sophie was wrong. He crouched down beside her and stroked her forehead. He wasn’t even sure if she was awake still, but he whispered to her, “I have loved you, with all that I am, from the first.”

  Her lips parted as though she was about to say something, but she didn’t. She simply sighed and rolled over, turning away from him.

  She slept on and off for most of the day, and Alex fretfully watched over her. But by evening, her cheeks had some colour in them and she was able to move more freely.

  Alex took great care not to crowd her. He put the television on in the background and ordered a simple dinner that she could pick at when hu
ngry, and then retired to his room on the pretence of work. Of course, he checked on her often, but he didn’t want to rock the boat. For the moment, she had given up on asking him to leave her alone, and he hoped the truce would last.

  The following morning, Sophie was even more like herself, though the reserve had returned. She was barely speaking to him, and was certainly unable to meet his eye.

  It was out of desperation that he sought the most desperate measure of all.

  9 November, 16.08pm

  From: A Petrides

  To: Ava, Olivia

  I’m in need of the best Christmas pudding recipe ever. Sophie informs me it’s yours. Please send it to me as a matter of urgency.

  Yours,

  A.P

  Ava, who kept all of their sacred family recipes stored in a binder in the kitchen, was able to find it easily and send a copy back to Alex. And far away, on the other side of the world, she imagined her sister happy. She imagined her sister planning an English Christmas with the man she loved, and Ava took comfort from it in the midst of her own anxieties.

  Sophie, meanwhile, was none the wiser that her sort-of husband had been emailing with her sisters. She was simply glad that Alex had stayed out for most of the afternoon. It had given her a chance to think, or at least to breathe. The problem was that when he was around, she was totally, utterly baffled. She knew that what he’d done was wrong, but it was almost impossible to hold onto her temper and resentment when he was staring at her with those enormous black eyes.

  “Hello, agape mou,” he said from the doorway, and Sophie looked towards him. Her heart began to hammer and she realised that she’d missed him. That, far from being glad he’d stayed out, she’d been counting the minutes until he returned. It infuriated her. He didn’t deserve that. He deserved nothing from her!

  “Hello.” A small sounding word, from the depths of her doubts.

  “How do you feel?”

  Physically, she felt surprisingly well. She had the occasional cramp, and she was tired, but the bulk of how she was feeling was emotional. There, in her heart-space, she was a wreck. A ball of angst-ridden indecision and uncertainty.

  “Sophie? You are okay?”