Pages and pages of testimony of the cold cruelty Tabitha had endured.
Not a single member of staff had a bad word to say about Tabitha herself. On the contrary, they’d all adored her and had been heartbroken when she’d run away on her eighteenth birthday, all having believed Emmaline’s explanation for Tabitha’s sudden disappearance from Brigstock Manor.
‘She’d been such a happy child but those years after her father died...well...she become a shell of herself,’ the housekeeper had explained. ‘It was no surprise that she left the moment she legally could. Their treatment of her was barbaric.’
Calling out to his PA to cancel his next meeting, Giannis opened his oak cabinet door and pulled out the bottle of Scotch he kept there for the occasions he worked late and wanted to wind down before returning to his apartment. He filled the glass to the brim, drank half of it then reached for his phone.
First he forwarded the report to his English lawyer with instructions to check for any illegalities in Emmaline’s activities. Instinct told him that she must have broken a swathe of English laws.
Then he called his sister.
Niki answered on the first ring.
Cutting out the usual pleasantries, he said, ‘It’s Tabitha’s birthday next week. How do you feel about organising a party for her? I thought we could book that restaurant we took our parents to for their fortieth wedding anniversary.’ The restaurant was one of the best in Athens, excellent food, location and atmosphere combined with attentive but relaxed staff, making it a memorable venue for all the right reasons.
Her response was exactly what he had known it would be—enthusiastic—and she promised to get straight on to it.
Knowing he’d put the wheels in motion to bring a smile to his wife’s face eased the fury pumping through his blood a little.
What hell she must have lived through.
He imagined a miniature Tabitha, with chubby cheeks and honey-blonde hair, and his heart twisted to think of that little girl losing her mother at such a tender age. Her father had found a new mother for her, and sisters too, not knowing he was bringing a black widow and her venomous offspring into his home.
It would be easy to sneer at her father for falling for Emmaline’s lies but Giannis had been the victim of his own gold-digging witch.
Tabitha could not be more different if she tried.
What was she doing right then? Was she reading one of the books he’d had shipped over by an English retailer, after she’d said in passing that she had always loved to read but that she’d only read one book since having been kicked out of her home? It hadn’t been time or finances that had stopped her reading. For almost five years she had worked long, physical hours. She’d been too exhausted to read a book. She’d been too exhausted to do anything.
He swiped his phone and found her number before his brain registered what his fingers were doing and he turned it off before he could put the call through.
He downed the rest of his Scotch. The ease he’d just found disappeared. His skin felt suddenly uncomfortable, as if it had tightened around his bones and was constricting his lungs.
Since when did he call a woman just to hear her voice? Never.
And since when did he cut meetings short and cancel appointments just so he could read non-work-related reports? Since when did he focus on anything at work other than the work itself?
Since Tabitha.
It had been the same even before they’d married, he thought, remembering the weeks spent in his fruitless search for her.
In the course of a normal working week he stayed in his apartment in Athens or his other apartments or hotels if he was travelling. He returned to Santorini only at weekends. He worked long hours. Adding an hour’s flight at the end of it was a hassle he could do without.
Since their wedding he’d flown back to Santorini six times. He’d had to physically restrain himself from flying back the other times.
He’d meant what he’d said about making their marriage work but there had to be a balance. He’d told himself he had a duty to spend time with his new wife during the week, and not just weekends, but the uncomfortable truth was that he ached to be with her.
She was never far from his mind.
Even with an hour’s flight between them the spell she’d woven on him proved strong.
Sooner or later the spell would break.
Tabitha was his wife. He had a duty to provide for her, to protect her and to make life as good and as easy as it could be. He would give her everything she desired. He would treat her like a princess. He would worship her body when he was with her and be faithful when he wasn’t.
But his heart he would—must—keep for himself.
Only a fool would allow it to be placed in another’s hands after having had it smashed the first time he’d handed it to someone.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE LATE-SUMMER Santorini heat showed no sign of abating so, while Tabitha’s days were spent in glorious sunshine, it was nice to return to the more familiar heat of Vienna.
Tabitha didn’t know if she was more excited at seeing her elderly friend or at the fact that she was finally accompanying Giannis somewhere away from Santorini.
In the weeks since their wedding she’d had plenty to keep her occupied but also the luxury of doing nothing if that was what she wanted. After years of toil, proper down time was a true luxury.
It had given her the time she needed to think. About her life, her future and the eternal question of whether Giannis was right that she should fight Emmaline for her inheritance.
He thought she was strong.
She still didn’t feel it. She still couldn’t picture her stepmother’s face without needles of fear pricking on her skin.
Giannis’s family all lived close by. If during the working week he stayed away from home for the night she was inundated by them with offers to feed her in their own magnificent homes. Electra, the second-youngest sister and currently on maternity leave, had dropped in a couple of times with her toddler in tow and Niki had taken her out for lunch and kept pressing for another one.
For the first time that she could remember, she wasn’t lonely.
But still there lived in her the feeling that something was missing. She just wished she knew what it was.
She missed Giannis when he wasn’t there. That could be it. A simple case of missing her husband.
Who wouldn’t miss him? He was smart, attentive, sharp-witted, amusing, devilishly handsome and as sexy as sin. She simply couldn’t get enough of his love-making. If she had her way they would never leave the bedroom.
But they did have to leave the bedroom, she accepted wistfully.
She just wished she could be with him on the nights he couldn’t make it back to Santorini. When she’d suggested she accompany him to Athens, which was his main base during the working week, or wherever else he happened to be business-wise, he’d dismissed it with a, ‘You’d be bored’.
She wished, too, that on the nights they spent apart she had any evidence that he missed her. Would it hurt him to pick up the phone and call her? The one time she’d called him, just for a chat, just to hear his voice, he’d been polite but distant.
It felt as if she was deliberately being kept in the shadows of his life. When they were together he couldn’t keep his hands off her but when they were apart he didn’t spare her a thought.
On the plus side, she had their forthcoming date on Saturday night to look forward to. Giannis was taking her to an exclusive event at the Palvetti production facility in Lake Como. Palvetti was an iconic jewellery and perfumery company, its boss, Alessio, Giannis’s oldest and closest friend, the man whose debt Giannis had repaid by throwing the masquerade ball. Tabitha was very much looking forward to going. It would be the first time Giannis had taken her anywhere resembling an actual date since they’d married.<
br />
She kept that thought strong inside her when they entered the Basinas Palace Hotel and she found herself wanting to cry when not a single member of staff congratulated them on their marriage.
They didn’t know. Unless they looked at the ring on her finger, they would have no reason to think Tabitha was Giannis’s wife. Even if they did realise they were married, the hotel staff would look at her and think only that Giannis’s new wife looked a lot like one of their old chambermaids.
There had been no announcement of their marriage but she’d thought word must have got out by now that one of Europe’s richest men had married, especially after the tragic demise of his first wife. Outside of Giannis’s family and his household staff, she doubted anyone knew.
She shoved her darkening thoughts away as she approached Mrs Coulter’s door.
Her elderly friend was expecting her.
Tabitha was alarmed at how frail she looked compared to the last time she’d seen her. However, she was in excellent spirits, and after they’d shared a round of sandwiches and a pot of loose-leaf tea she got the playing cards out and insisted on hearing everything that Tabitha had been up to since their last lunch together. She wanted details on everything. How she and Giannis had met, details of the wedding, the whole works.
Tabitha obliged, sparing nothing apart from the bits that could make her blush.
In truth, it felt wonderful to confide it all.
‘You’re in love!’ the elderly woman said, clapping her hands with glee. ‘I cannot tell you how happy this makes me.’
‘We’re not in love,’ Tabitha refuted, although her heart had started to thump. ‘We married so our baby could have two parents under the same roof.’
‘Poppycock. That was an old-fashioned notion even back in my day. That man’s rich enough to build you adjoining houses if he’d wanted only for his child to have a mother and father on hand at all times. And you’re very naughty for not telling me you spent the night with him at the ball,’ she continued. ‘You promised me full details, young lady.’
Even though perspiration had broken out on her back, Tabitha found a smile. ‘It was too personal for me to share.’
‘First love always is personal, my dear,’ Mrs Coulter mused before a dreamy expression drifted over her wizened face. ‘I remember my first love. He was a bad boy. My father thought he was scum. He was right—Billy was only interested in one thing—but I didn’t care. I thought he was marvellous. The first time we made love was in the shed at the bottom of my garden. My father nearly caught us. He thought foxes had broken in. We only escaped when he went back in the house to get his gun.’
‘What happened to him?’ Tabitha asked, fascinated at this generations-old tale of young love.
‘Who? My father or Billy?’
‘Billy.’
Her eyes crinkled with mischief. ‘I married him, my dear. Billy was my sweet William. And we had fifty happy years together.’
* * *
Could she love Giannis? Was Mrs Coulter right? It was a question still playing in her head four days later when she awoke to find Giannis in bed with her.
‘Shouldn’t you be at work?’ she mumbled with a sleepy smile. He’d surprised her by flying back from Athens the night before when she’d assumed he’d be staying in his apartment.
He shook his head. There was something smug about the look on his face...
‘What?’
His brow creased slightly. ‘Don’t you know what day it is?’
‘Friday?’
‘Tabitha, it’s your birthday.’
‘Oh.’
It had been so long since she’d celebrated that she’d stopped caring about it. It had become nothing but another date on the calendar.
He put his hand under his pillow and pulled out a slim gift-wrapped box. ‘Happy birthday, matia mou.’
Dumbstruck, Tabitha took it from him with a hand that shook.
She hadn’t received a birthday present in seven years.
Giannis, noticing her hesitancy, caught her downcast chin and raised it so he could look at her.
Those beautiful eyes were swimming with tears. ‘What’s the matter?’
She swallowed and shook her head.
Speaking gently, his guts twisting at what he suspected was the reason for her tears, he said, ‘You’re not supposed to cry until you’ve opened it and decided that you hate it—and then you’re supposed to cry in private so my ego isn’t bruised.’
She managed a smile. ‘Is that the law?’
‘Nai.’
‘I’m sorry for breaking the law.’ Then she palmed her hand to his cheek and kissed him. ‘Thank you.’
‘You haven’t opened it yet.’
‘Then I will thank you again when I have.’
She took her time opening it, treating the wrapping paper with a respect he’d never seen before. When Giannis had a gift, he ripped into it.
It had been a long time since Tabitha had received a gift of any kind, he suspected.
After taking much longer than the average person would take opening a present, the wrapping was off and she prised the lid open.
Her hand flew to her mouth. When she looked at him again fresh tears were brimming in her eyes. ‘Oh, Giannis, it’s beautiful. Thank you.’
‘It’s a bespoke Palvetti creation especially for you.’ He cleared his suddenly tight throat. ‘You can wear it tonight.’
‘Wear it where?’
‘To the restaurant I’m taking you to in Athens.’ Taking the box with the gift in it from her hands, he put it on the bedside table and rolled on top of her. He kissed her mouth. ‘First, I’m going to make love to you.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘And then we will eat breakfast.’ He kissed her neck. ‘And then I will make love to you again. And then we will take my plane to Athens.’
He didn’t get any further with his itinerary for the day. Tabitha had hooked her legs tightly around him.
* * *
Instead of heading straight to his apartment, Giannis took Tabitha to the Acropolis, where they walked around the great ruins hand in hand, her husband acting as her tour guide as he filled her in on the history of the ancient monument and all the ancient buildings that were a part of it.
Afterwards, they had a late lunch before finally getting to his apartment.
Tabitha had been in it only the once, when they had dropped in after a meeting with his lawyer when they’d been sorting out their pre-nuptial agreement. It was a beautiful, spacious apartment in, naturally, the most affluent area of the city and the contrast to his villa in Santorini was stark.
This time she took no notice of the differences. Her eyes were too busy popping out at the enormous display of roses that covered every available surface.
‘I’ll have them flown back to Santorini in the morning,’ he murmured into her ear as he wrapped his arms around her.
After they’d whiled away the afternoon making love and sharing a bath in his massive sunken tub, they got ready for their meal out.
When she was dressed she asked Giannis to do the clasp on the beautiful choker he’d had made for her.
Gold and covered with gems of all colours in a glimmering pattern, it was the most beautiful item of jewellery she had ever seen.
The next surprise came when they walked into the restaurant and were greeted by his family, all bearing gifts of their own for her.
They were the only guests there. The restaurant had been opened specially for them and decorated with balloons and streamers.
They ate, they drank, music played...there was even a birthday cake for her.
Yet the happiness that had fizzed through her veins that day slowly dissolved as the feeling of being kept in the shadows crept back on her.
Giannis had gone to all this effort for her but had again kept her away from prying eyes
. Obviously he wasn’t keeping her existence a secret but neither was he flaunting it.
That would change tomorrow, she reminded herself on the drive back to the apartment, when they flew to Lake Como for the Palvetti party.
Everything he’d done for her...
It was incredible.
When they’d ridden the elevator to the top floor, which Giannis owned entirely, and stepped inside his apartment he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. ‘I have one more surprise for you,’ he murmured.
‘A kinky surprise?’
His lips quirked. ‘Not quite but I can give you one of those too if you want.’
She admired the tightness of his buttocks as he strode to the bureau and pulled a thick envelope out of a drawer.
‘What is it?’ she asked when he handed it to her.
‘The means for you to fight back. Evidence of your stepmother’s fraudulent behaviour.’
Stunned, she clutched the envelope to her chest. ‘How did you get this?’
‘I had Emmaline investigated.’ A muscular arm slid around her waist and pulled her to him. His breath was warm against her hair. ‘When you are ready to fight and reclaim what is yours, I will be there to help you. You don’t have to do this alone.’
‘So you don’t think I’m strong.’
‘Being strong does not mean having to do things alone. This is the ammunition you need for when you are ready to confront her. You have much strength, matia mou. You just have to believe it.’
Tabitha pressed her cheek to his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart echo in her ears and vibrate through her skin.
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