by Abby Green
Marianne looked at her. ‘Have you started your periods again?’
Maggie shook her head. ‘No, so it can’t possibly be—’ She stopped talking, a clammy, panicky feeling washing through her. She looked at Marianne. ‘It couldn’t be...could it?’
Marianne stood up, her expression serious. ‘I’m not sure, but I don’t think a lack of periods or breastfeeding is foolproof protection.’
Maggie wanted to sit down. Was it possible? Could she be pregnant again? Already?
She remembered with Daniel that her morning sickness had been worst in the evenings. She felt sick again.
She forced a smile. ‘I’m sure it’s not... Would you watch Daniel if I go out for a minute?’
‘Of course.’
It was only when the lift reached the ground floor that Maggie realised she’d forgotten to put on her shoes. But it was quiet down here. The ballroom was empty now, bathed in moonlight, staff were packing up chairs.
She spotted a person she recognised as being one of Nikos’s assistants and asked him where Nikos was. He led her to another room, where a scary-looking bouncer opened the door.
Maggie gasped. It was a whole other world. It was like a scene from a James Bond movie. There was a bar and a raised dais, where men and women sat around an oval table. This must be the high-stakes poker game.
Nikos was there. Bowtie undone. Sleeves rolled up. There was something incredibly weary about him that caught at her before she could chase it away. Nikos didn’t need her concern and he wouldn’t welcome it.
He wasn’t smoking, but a cloud of cigar smoke hung in the air. Maggie waved a hand in front of her face to clear it. Nikos looked up and saw her—and there it was. The flare. Before he blanked his expression again.
But it must have been her imagination. She knew something had been irrevocably broken between them.
He sat back in his chair. ‘Ladies and gentlemen—my wife, Maggie.’
Everyone turned and looked at her. She blushed and glared at Nikos.
He stood up. ‘Come join me. I need good luck.’
Against her better instincts Maggie went over and climbed the steps. Nikos reached for her and sat down again, pulling her into his lap. Her bones liquefied. His thighs were like steel. He hadn’t touched her since Madrid and she could feel the ever-present need. Embarrassing.
She held herself rigid.
He wrapped his arms around her and said, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I can highly recommend getting married—I’m a transformed man.’
His mocking tone was too much. Maggie didn’t like it—and she didn’t like Nikos’s volatile energy.
She stood up, but he pulled her down again. ‘Don’t go... I need you.’
She looked at him and said, for his ears only, ‘You don’t need me—that’s the problem.’
She stood up again.
‘I just wanted to make sure you were all right.’
She went back down the steps and he said from behind her, ‘Don’t wait up.’
She turned and looked at him. It was as if he’d morphed back into that louche playboy she’d first met.
‘I won’t,’ she said. And left.
Dawn was rising outside when Nikos returned to the suite. It was quiet. He felt hollowed out. Like a husk. He threw down his coat and heard a sound. He looked up. Maggie was standing by the window.
She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved top. Her hair was up in a messy knot. She looked tired. Pale. There was a jacket on the chair beside her. Daniel was in his baby seat, asleep.
‘What’s going on? Why are you up?’
Maggie lifted her chin and something about that tiny movement threatened to break something apart inside Nikos. But he clamped down on it. Hard.
‘We’re getting an early flight back to Ireland, via London. I’m just waiting for a taxi. Marianne is in bed asleep. She’s going to go back to Paris later—she’s taking a holiday until we figure out what we’re doing.’
Nikos shook his head, a cold feeling spreading through him. ‘What are you talking about?’
She said, ‘You told me we’d talk about things after the event, but you stayed out all night.’
Even though Nikos knew he’d precipitated this very scenario, something that felt like desperation and panic curdled in his gut. ‘So let’s talk now.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s too late. This isn’t working, Nikos. Daniel is my priority and he’s starting to teethe. He needs to be in one place—not moving around. The apartment in Paris isn’t suitable. We need a home, and clearly you’re not ready to change your life to accommodate that if last night is anything to go by.’
Nikos felt a sense of futility wash over him. This was what he wanted. Maggie was too close. She saw too much. She needed to get away from him.
‘What will you do?’ Nikos asked.
Maggie fought to hold on to her composure even as she broke apart inside. He wasn’t even putting up a fight.
‘We’ll go back to Kildare House, if that’s okay?’
‘That house is yours, Maggie. I gave it to you in the pre-nuptial agreement. It’s yours no matter what happens.’
‘You did?’ She’d barely read the agreement. She was momentarily speechless but then it hit her—he cared so little about the house he was prepared to give it to her.
Stiffly, she said, ‘I’ll accept it on Daniel’s behalf.’
‘It’s yours.’
Nikos sounded almost angry.
Maggie knew she should walk away now, but a rebellious part of her needed to push Nikos...push him all the way to articulating just how little hope there was. Because she knew if there was any doubt she would never rest easy.
She forced herself to ask. ‘What else is mine, Nikos?’
His eyes narrowed on her. ‘What do you want?’
This was it. A terrifying leap of faith. But she had no choice.
‘It’s not what I want—it’s who. You, Nikos. I want you. All of you. I’ve fallen in love with you, in spite of all your warnings. Because you let me in to see someone that no one else knows. And I think you’re pushing me away because of that...aren’t you?’
She held her breath.
Nikos’s face was pale. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
She walked over to him. There was stubble on his jaw. His weariness was palpable. She knew she was risking everything by doing this, but perhaps it was the only way to kill the flicker of hope that might destroy her.
‘I know you want me, Nikos, and I think you feel something for me—maybe not love, but more than like.’
A harsh expression came over his face. ‘Not more than like! I told you I couldn’t offer more than that. And as for wanting you? Desire always fades in the end.’
Maggie absorbed the cruel blow of his words and stepped closer. She put a hand to the back of his head, urging his head down.
Nikos was stiff. ‘What are you doing?’
She pressed her mouth to his before she could lose her nerve, almost forgetting why she was doing it as his scent filled her nostrils and she felt those firm contours. She flicked out her tongue, tasting the seam of his lips. She could feel his tension.
Nikos jerked back and put his hands on her arms, pushed her back. ‘Don’t embarrass yourself, Maggie.’
He really didn’t want her any more.
She faltered. Lost her nerve.
She’d just exposed herself spectacularly and Nikos hadn’t crumbled.
She went on wooden legs to put on her jacket, picked up Daniel’s baby seat.
She walked back to Nikos and forced herself to look into his impassive face. ‘You know where we’ll be. I need to do what’s best for my son now.’
All the way to the door her treacherous heart hoped that he would try and stop her...tell her it had all been a huge mistake. But he didn
’t.
Nikos walked over to the window and looked down into the main courtyard. After a few minutes he saw Maggie emerge, and then the hotel manager, carrying Daniel in his car seat. Not even the image of another man carrying his son could break him out of the numb cold shell that was encasing his whole being.
Because the pain will kill you if you let it in.
He batted away the voice.
Nikos turned away from the window. And then he went straight back downstairs and into the casino. People looked up from the table, bleary-eyed.
‘Ready for more, Marchetti?’
‘Yes. Except this time I’m not playing for charity.’
One of the other men laughed. ‘Does your wife know where you are?’
Nikos looked up, so cold and numb now that his voice felt as if it was coming from very far away. ‘She doesn’t matter. Let’s get on with it.’
Maggie felt restless. She’d finished washing up the dishes in the sink and now she looked around the vast and gleaming kitchen which was situated in the basement of an even vaster house. A stunningly beautiful, period country house, to be exact. Set in some ten acres of lush green land about an hour’s drive outside Dublin.
There were manicured gardens to the rear and a sizeable walled kitchen garden to the side. There was even a small lake and a forest.
And stables. But the stables were empty. Because the zillionaire heartless owner of the house couldn’t even commit to a passing interest in racehorses, never mind an actual wife and baby—
Maggie put a hand to her belly, overcome with nausea for a moment. But then it passed and she drank some water.
She nursed her anger because it was the only thing that had got her through the last week and the headlines that screamed at her whenever she looked at anything online: Honeymoon is over for Marchetti! Reformed Playboy no more! Is Marchetti back on the market?!
It killed Maggie that she’d told him she loved him in a bid to try and get some reaction. A reaction he couldn’t give because he was incapable. And the worst thing was he’d warned her all along.
At that moment she heard a sound from upstairs—the ground floor. A banging noise. The front door?
Maggie looked at the baby monitor on the table, Daniel was still asleep upstairs. She tucked the monitor into her back pocket and went upstairs.
The knocker went again, louder, and she muttered, ‘Keep your hair on...’ just as she switched on the outside light and swung the door open.
And promptly ceased breathing at the sight in front of her.
A tall dark man dominated the doorway, his hand lifted as if to slam the knocker down again. His other arm was raised and resting on the side of the doorframe. The late-summer sky was a dusky lavender behind him, making him seem even darker.
Maggie couldn’t find her breath. Dressed in a classic black tuxedo, he was the most stupendously gorgeous man she’d ever seen. Thick, dark curly hair and dark brows framed a strong-boned face. Cheekbones to die for. Deep-set eyes, dark but not brown. Slightly golden. His skin was dark. There was stubble on his jaw.
His black bowtie hung rakishly undone under the open top button of his shirt. Those dark eyes flicked down from her face and moved over her body—
She shook her head violently. Déjà vu. This had to be a particularly cruel and vivid form of déjà vu.
She opened her eyes. He was still there. Nikos Marchetti. Her husband. Her ex-lover.
She’d known she’d have to see him again, but not like this. She wasn’t ready.
She turned and walked away from the front door. ‘You really should get a key cut to this house.’
‘Ah, but would I be welcome?’
Maggie stopped and turned around. She hated it that she was even wearing almost exactly what she’d been wearing a year before. Cut-off denim shorts and a plaid shirt, tied at the waist. She’d spent the day cleaning the house, finding the monotonous work therapeutic.
Now she felt like a fool.
Once again Nikos was giving off an air of debauched hedonism, but she saw the way his sharp eyes moved over her. He was as sober as she was.
He frowned. ‘Where’s Mr Wilson?’
Maggie folded her arms. ‘I gave him a few days off to visit his family.’ And so she could lick her wounds in private.
She looked him up and down, trying to copy the way he looked at her—except she was probably failing dismally, because her gaze wanted to linger lovingly on every plane of his spectacular body.
‘Were you at another function, shoring up the Marchetti brand?’
Or, worse, flirting with women? Her insides seized with pain.
‘I was at a function in London, yes.’
Her heart thumped. He’d come all the way here straight from London?
‘How’s Daniel?’
Something inside her fell. She castigated herself. Of course this was about Daniel. He cared about his son. This was a good thing.
‘He’s fine—upstairs, asleep. If you want to talk about visitation rights I think it’s best for all of us if we do it through intermediaries. This really isn’t cool.’
He walked towards her, shucking off his jacket, letting it drop to the floor as he did so. He stopped in front of her. ‘Oh, really? Intermediaries?’
Some of Maggie’s bravado leached away. And some of the anger. Electricity crackled between them.
‘Nikos...what’s going on?’
For a second she thought he was going to kiss her, and then he stepped away and funnelled his hands through his hair. She could see the muscles in his back were taut. Of course he wasn’t going to kiss her—he didn’t want her. But then he turned around, eyes burning, and she was in his arms and his mouth was covering hers before she could form another thought.
Maggie’s brain melted. And her bones. And her heart.
She clung to Nikos and he hauled her up against him. She wrapped her legs around him. His hands were under her bottom, holding her up.
She pulled back and sucked in air, heart hammering. He looked up at her. She pushed to get down and he released her.
She stepped back on trembling legs. ‘What’s going on? You said...you said desire faded...’
He emitted a bleak-sounding laugh. ‘It was a lie. One of many.’
He reached for her hand with his. She looked at it warily.
He said, ‘Please? Let me explain.’
She looked at him. Suddenly he didn’t look so confident.
Against all her better instincts Maggie put her hand into his and let him lead her into the living room.
He let her go and walked over to the bookshelves. ‘Your books are back.’ He turned around. ‘I missed them.’
‘Nikos...’
She noticed then that he was unkempt. A bit wild. Dark circles under his eyes. Stubble. Actually, more than stubble. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in—
As if hearing her thoughts, he said, ‘I don’t think I’ve actually slept since you left last week. I went straight down to the casino and the whole week since has been a bit of a blur.’
Maggie felt anger rise again. ‘I can show you the headlines if you want your memory refreshed. You fell out of the casino at lunchtime on—’
He held up a hand. ‘I know.’ He looked at her, deadly serious. ‘But you see I was being an idiot. Because I love you. And when you said it to me I couldn’t believe it. I already felt guilty for infecting you with my toxicity, and—’
Maggie interrupted him. ‘What did you just say?’
Nikos frowned. ‘Which bit?’
She went over and caught his shirt in her hands and glared at him. ‘You know which bit.’
He looked intense. More intense than she’d ever seen him.
‘You did say you loved me didn’t you? It wasn’t a dream?’
She shook her head. �
��Not a dream—reality. I do love you, Nikos. I think I fell in love with you that first moment I saw you. Tonight...just now... I thought I was dreaming you up...’ A dam was breaking inside her.
Nikos caught her hands in his. His hands were shaking. He tugged her to sit down on the couch.
He looked down. ‘You’re still wearing your rings.’
Maggie flushed. ‘I meant to take them off.’
He looked at her. ‘I wouldn’t blame you... I’m an idiot.’
‘You’ve said that.’
‘I love you.’
‘You—’ She stopped. ‘You really mean it?’
‘Of course I love you... I just didn’t know what I was feeling because I’ve never felt it before. But I remembered what you said about your mother...about doing anything for Daniel...and that’s how I feel about you. And Daniel. I couldn’t breathe this week, Maggie. I need you. I need you both. So much.’ Then he said, ‘Do you know why this is the only house I’ve ever bought?
She shook her head, reeling. Afraid to move in case she broke the spell.
He said, ‘The first time I saw this house it appealed to something in me. I think I must have seen you here in a dream. And then I came and here you were. I’ve never had a home. Not a real, proper home. But when you opened that door something inside me went quiet for the first time in my life. I was home.’
He went on.
‘I used to have panic attacks when I was at boarding school. They were brought on by a sense of being totally isolated and alone. I used to be sent home for the holidays with whichever poor unfortunate kid’s family had offered to take me in. I didn’t ever get to spend time with my own brothers. Sharif was abroad by then, building up his stake in the business. Maks was being shuttled between our father and his mother.’
Nikos’s mouth twisted.
‘They were no better off—I can see that now—but I imagined they were happier than me. I would watch the families I was with and feel toxic. I thought they must be able to see all the way into me, to where I was so jealous of them and the happiness they took for granted, and I vowed never to let myself want that. Because it felt like weakness. My own family didn’t want me, so I obviously didn’t deserve to be loved.’