by Maya Blake
First came the loss of the searing palm-to-palm contact that had somehow heightened this experience from base act to something...more, followed by the complete withdrawal of body heat when Neo rose lithely from the sofa, triggering an acute self-consciousness of my naked state in contrast to his almost completely clothed form.
Then, with his thick curse uttered in Greek, but nevertheless unmistakable, I was wrenched from my insulated bubble.
The living room lights, which had provided seductive ambience during our furious coupling, suddenly blazed too bright, exposed too much, making me blink a few times before I focused on the man frozen in a half turn from me, a look of stark disbelief and something else that looked like furious self-loathing etched into his face.
‘I... Is something wrong?’ I cringed at my husky sex-hoarse tone.
Neo ploughed his fingers through his hair, turned and stalked down the hallway. Dread dripped torturous ice water down my spine. The frantic darting of my mind was locked in place for several long seconds before I jackknifed upward, my feet landing on the plush carpet as I tried to marshal my thoughts.
It took far too long to find and wrestle my tangled panties on. I was cursing my shaking hands and their inability to straighten my bra straps when brisk strides signalled Neo’s return.
My disquiet intensifying, I glanced his way. He ignored me. I told myself to be glad, but my stomach churned harder, the regret I’d anticipated and almost accepted would arrive suspiciously light in place of the hurt and confusion swamping me.
His movements jerky, unlike the smooth, animalistic grace he’d exhibited earlier, he headed for the drinks cabinet, but at the last moment veered away and stopped before the glass wall.
Silence pulsed as he stared out, ferocious tension riding his shoulders.
I dragged my fingers through my hair, shoving it out of the way in order to secure my bra, and hurriedly punched my fingers through the sleeves of my blouse. I was tugging the sides together when he turned.
If his eyes had been turbulent pools before, they were positively volcanic now. But that fury was aimed more at himself than at me. There seemed to be bewilderment, as if I was a puzzle he’d tried and failed to put together and now loathed himself for attempting.
He stared at me for another unsettling minute, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling as if he detested the very words he was about to utter.
‘We have a problem,’ he grated.
I was surprised he could speak at all, with his jaw locked so tight and the tendons in his neck standing out.
The feeling of unworthiness returned—harder, harsher. Not good enough, the insidious voice whispered. Never good enough.
I pushed it and my roiling emotions away for examination later. Much, much later.
‘I can tell. Although I’m at a loss as to what it is.’
But even as the firm words tumbled from my lips, the cascade and echo of old hurts was deepening, intensifying.
‘If you’re about to tell me you regret what happened, please save your breath. We don’t need to dissect it now or ever. I’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes. You need never set eyes on me again if that’s what you—’
‘The condom broke.’
The words were delivered like a chilling death knell. I was glad I hadn’t attempted to stand, because my legs would have failed me. I was aware that my jaw had sagged, that I probably made an unattractive sight, sitting there half-dressed, with my skirt askew and unzipped and my blouse wrinkled.
He confirmed it with a quick rake of his gaze and a harder clenching of his teeth. ‘Get dressed, Sadie.’
I ignored the command for the simple reason that I couldn’t move, couldn’t force my brain to stop repeating those three damning words on a loop.
‘I... What?’ I finally managed.
‘Cover yourself,’ he repeated tersely.
‘Why? My nakedness didn’t cause the condom to fail,’ I flung back, and then compounded my words with a furious blush as his eyebrows hiked upward in flaying mockery.
I turned my back on him, a much more earth-shaking tremble seizing me as the ramifications landed home. While he’d listed everything I may have deprived him of, Neo hadn’t definitely confirmed his inability to father children. So did I face a possible pregnancy on top of everything else?
Dear God...
Motherhood? When my own blueprint of childhood was so flawed?
Somehow, through sheer will to fight this battle on somewhere-near-equal footing, I straightened my clothes, slid my feet into my shoes.
There was nothing I could do about my hair, what with the cheap band I’d used nowhere in sight and my refusal to dig around for it under Neo’s heavy, brooding stare. So I took a deep breath, and turned around to face the consequences of yet another wrong turn.
CHAPTER FOUR
MISTAKE.
Big, colossal mistake.
Disbelief, raw and searing, tunnelled deep, bedded down into my bones with unstoppable force until I had no choice but to acknowledge its presence. To accept that I’d simply compounded one problem with not one but two further mistakes.
For the first time in my life I wanted to find the nearest sand dune. Bury my head in it. But I couldn’t.
Because there she stood, a flaming hot testament to the temptation I’d given in to when I should’ve walked away. Should have heeded my own agency to retreat and regroup instead of arrogantly imagining I could handle this—handle her—like a normal business challenge, to be ruthlessly and efficiently dismantled before moving on to the next problem.
The chaos she’d brought upon me wasn’t a business problem or even a wider family problem, to be accommodated only so far until it could be slotted under someone else’s problem when in reality it was deeply, straight-to-the-core personal.
It had needed addressing, sure. But only once I’d thought things through. Executed a solution with military precision, as I did with everything in my life.
Not losing myself in the very object of my misery. Not letting go of the reins of my sanity so thoroughly and completely that the world could’ve burned to the ground and I wouldn’t have minded in the slightest if it meant I could continue to enjoy her silken warmth, the intoxicating clutch of her tight heat. To hear those spellbinding gasps and cries fall from her lips as she begged for more.
Acid seared my throat, flooded my mouth, bringing with it a recollection of the only other time I’d let blind lust get the better of me.
An invitation to some faceless heiress’s birthday party in Gstaad I’d almost refused—until a possible business opportunity had been thrown in to sweeten the invitation.
A big deal bagged, followed by a night of hedonistic revelry.
A mistaken conclusion that I’d found a worthy soulmate, even though I’d never truly believed in that sort of flighty fantasy.
When that illusion had seemed to hold true in the clear light of day, for weeks and months, I’d congratulated myself for a wise choice made even in the midst of frivolity and decadence.
A proposal in Neostros, before friends and family, an engagement party to trump them all, and I was all set to buck the Xenakis family trend of backstabbing and buckling underneath the smallest pressure.
Even when suspicions arose...even when I allowed Anneka to talk me into another visit to Gstaad and a reluctant turn on the black ski run ended with me being launched twenty feet into the air and descending via a jagged aspen tree...she hadn’t bailed.
Unlike most, who barely remembered their trauma, mine still played out in excruciating detail. I heard her cries as she held my hand and urged me to hold on. And I held on, remaining alert right until the doctors were forced to put me in a medical coma. I embraced even that, knowing she would be waiting for me when I woke.
But those fervent wishes for me to hold on had been born not of love but
of callous greed and an unconscionable disregard for loyalty and integrity.
She calculated every move, right up until my eyes opened—literally and figuratively—to the betrayal and falsehoods so deeply ingrained she wore them like a second skin. One she attempted to hide with tears and cajoling until she’d learned that she couldn’t fool a Xenakis twice.
I’d made a vow never to be caught in another traitorous web ever again.
Where was that vow an hour ago, Neo?
I stifled a growl at the mocking inner voice. There’d been quite enough growling for one night. One lifetime. The cold calculation with which I should have approached this situation finally arrived.
I stared at Sadie Preston. Watched her fidget, like she did in my office.
Then slowly that chin went up, throwing the face I’d framed in my hands and caressed into alluring relief while those green eyes began to spark.
‘Are you going to stand there glaring at me all night? Look, I know the news is upsetting—’
Harsh laughter barked out of me, startling her, but there was no help for it. ‘You think this is merely upsetting? Do you not understand that there’s no making this right? No glossing over this?’
‘I was just—’
‘Attempting to make me feel better? Urging me to look on the bright side? Is that what the episode on the sofa was all about?’
Raw colour flared in her cheeks but she dared another step closer, that temper I’d suspected bubbled just beneath the surface rising. ‘How dare you belittle it?’ she breathed, stunning me with her fierce tone. ‘It wasn’t just a sordid little episode to me.’
‘Wasn’t it? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you actually mean that.’
Another less readable look flashed in her eyes. Lips that had tasted exquisite beneath mine firmed, holding in whatever response she’d intended to utter for several seconds before she shook her head and spoke anyway.
‘I know there’s nothing I can say or do to alter what’s happened. But I was actually talking about the...the incident with the condom, not what brought me here in the first place.’
Christos, the broken condom. Another intensely unwelcome first in a day of abysmal firsts that needed to be smashed out of existence.
But then you wouldn’t have met her.
Skatá! What was wrong with me?
I’d hung on to her when I should have handed her over to the authorities within minutes of her confession. Now was I playing devil’s advocate with myself?
Never crossing paths with Sadie Preston was a trade-off I could cheerfully accept—and that gritty little knot in my stomach that called it out for a white lie be damned.
So what if my digital little black book hadn’t been used for the longest stretch since its inception, and she, with that mystifying allure of defiance and sexiness, would’ve been a prime addition to it had we met under different circumstances?
Facts were facts. And the simple fact remained: sending her packing should have been my first and only course.
‘The accident with the condom is another consequence to deal with. But it should be a fairly straightforward matter. I’ll start by assuring you that you have nothing to worry about health-wise.’
She arched one well-shaped eyebrow. ‘And I’m to take your word for that? Because you’re...you?’
The clear censure in her tone grated. ‘That’s your prerogative. But other than the fact that I abhor liars, a man in my position would be extremely foolish not to take the necessary precautions when it comes to every facet of his life. My last medical check returned a clean bill of health. You’re the only woman I’ve slept with since.’
Her eyes widened a touch, questions glinting in their depths. ‘And what about...?’
The inevitable question. I needed to answer and it burned its way up my throat—a searing reminder of why my association with this woman should have ended many hours ago.
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t not ask, can I?’ she muttered.
Her expression morphed into one I’d seen on too many faces of friends and family members. Even those without full knowledge of what had happened in that hospital room deigned to pity me. It was why I’d banned my family from discussing my accident.
‘I don’t need your pity, Miss Preston. Or whatever that look on your face is supposed to signify. The simple truth is, I cannot father children. The why doesn’t concern you. It’s a proven reality—which makes your offer of a further visit to your previous place of employment null. The only thing I need from you right now is reciprocal reassurance that I’m not at risk after this unfortunate mishap.’
Her expression snapped back to that mixture of fiery irritation, hurt and censure.
She wore her feelings so plainly. She would be an abysmal poker player. So why did I crave to keep staring, keep attempting to read what else she felt within this chaos?
‘I tell you this only for reassurance, in light of everything that’s happened. Let’s call it a courtesy.’ She paused, pursed her lips. ‘I’ve had one relationship. It lasted five months, while I was in my second year at uni, and I took every necessary precaution. So you have nothing to fear from me medically either,’ she snapped.
A layer of tension released its grip on me, even while questions multiplied in my brain. Questions I batted away because, no, I most definitely did not care who that relationship had been with. Or why it had ended. These days not being ‘in a relationship’ didn’t mean a woman was celibate. Did she belong to anyone now?
The urge to know was overpowering enough to force my fists closed, to grit my teeth just so the question wouldn’t tumble out.
Thee mou, I was losing it.
Her eyes widened as she stared at me. Evidently, my poker face needed work too. She glanced away, her eyes lighting on the shabby little handbag resting on the entryway console table.
When she headed for it I remained where I stood, not trusting myself to approach her. But staying put didn’t mean denying myself one final scrutiny of her body. Now that I’d tasted the passion and beauty beneath her tasteless clothes, my body wasn’t in any mood to obey my commands to relegate Sadie Preston to the wasteland where she belonged. Instead, it tracked the supple shape of her calves and ankles, the tempting curve of her backside, the dip of her waist.
Her hair...
My fist clenched tighter. I’d never given much thought to a woman’s hair before, except perhaps in the way it framed the overall package. I’d dated blondes, brunettes and everything in between without alighting on any specified preference.
Sadie’s hair had trademarked its own siren call. One that had hooked into me, driving me to a new and dizzyingly dangerous edge.
‘I suppose you want me to leave?’
I refocused on her face. She’d reclaimed her bag and slung it crossways over her slim torso, dragging my attention to her full breasts. I forced my gaze away from the perfect globes, crossed the living room to the front door to summon the lift.
A draining type of despair, a kind I’d never known before—not even when I stared into the heart of Anneka’s cruel betrayal—sapped the dregs of my energy. I held it at bay with sheer willpower.
Barely.
‘Neo...’
I pivoted to face her, renewed tension vibrating through to my very bones.
‘I don’t recall inviting you to use my first name. There’s nothing more to discuss. And, just so you’re disabused of any lingering notions of attempting to make this right, let me lay it out for you. There’s no way back from what you’ve done. Short of divine intervention and immaculate conception, you’ve effectively ended me, Sadie Preston. My last hope of ever becoming a father was that sample you destroyed. So I’m confident that you can get it through that stunning red head of yours that if I never see you again it will be too soon. Attempt any form of communication with me for any reason and
this stay of execution I’m considering will be off the table and you’ll be handed over to the authorities to answer for your crime. Is that understood?’
All colour drained from her face, but that stubborn chin remained high. Defiant.
‘Perfectly. Goodbye, Mr Xenakis.’
Nine weeks later
‘You shouldn’t be going to work today, Sadie. You look even worse than you did yesterday. And you were out like a light when I looked in on you before I went to bed. I didn’t disturb you because I thought a full night’s sleep would do you good, but I can see it didn’t.’
I busied myself fetching milk I didn’t need from the fridge to make a cup of coffee I didn’t intend to drink. All so I could avoid my mother’s gaze and the questions lurking therein.
Despite despair and bone-tiredness leaching the strength from my bones, I strove to remain upbeat. ‘I can’t afford not to go to work. And I’m fine, Mum.’ The I promise I usually tagged on to the reassurance stuck in my throat. I couldn’t promise anything. Because I wasn’t fine.
I hadn’t thought it possible to be this far from fine when I blinked back tears as Neo Xenakis’s lift hurled me down to the ground floor after that unforgettable night.
I’d been wrong.
That cloying sense of unworthiness, germinated after my father’s desertion and watered by doubts and hopelessness, had trebled overnight, and the enormity of what I’d done both before and after meeting Neo Xenakis had thrown me into a state of raw despair. One that’d grown exponentially with the final notice from our landlord a week ago.
We were on a countdown clock to homelessness.
I hadn’t been able to bring myself to tell my mother yet.
But I’d been doing a lot of evading lately.
In between sporadic temping I’d ignored the flulike symptoms leaching my energy, initially attributing my delayed period to the condition. Even after a second period was a no-show, I’d refused to believe that fate would be so brutal. That the unthinkable could truly happen.
Then had come the bracing, inevitable acceptance that I wasn’t the victim of lingering flu, or a stomach bug that only attacked in the morning, but that, yes, I was capable of conceiving immaculately.