by Kate Hewitt
‘Dinner is here,’ he announced once the staff member had left, the door clicking shut behind him. He rose and strode towards the entrance hall of the suite. ‘I hope you’re hungry.’
‘I am, even though I had an enormous lunch. I forgot to eat breakfast this morning, because I was in such a rush to get the ferry.’
‘I didn’t expect you to come to Athens,’ Alex remarked as he wheeled in a trolley full of silver-domed dishes.
‘I didn’t know when you would be back in Naxos, and I wanted to see you as quickly as possible. Because of Anna.’
He glanced at her sharply. ‘What is the urgency with your sister?’
‘She’s found a place at a prestigious music school in Rome. She was on the waitlist, and a place has come up at the last moment. She’s desperate to go—it will make a big difference to her, to attend.’
Alex frowned. ‘Will her stepfather forbid it?’
‘He won’t even know. At least, that’s how Anna is hoping it will all play out. But I needed to secure the deposit by the end of the week.’
‘The end of the week...’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Milly said quickly. ‘I’ve paid it out of my savings. I’m not asking you to pay for anything...’ She bit her lip. ‘I mean, I’ll pay for her school fees out of, you know, the settlement.’
‘I see.’ She’d had even more reason to want that money—the only reason she would ever go through with something like this, clearly. She needed to provide for her sister, who, in a few days’ time, would be as good as his sister-in-law. Family. He didn’t want Milly to be scraping and saving in order to provide for what would be his family.
‘I called her this afternoon,’ Milly said quietly. ‘To tell her I’d sorted the fees. She was so pleased.’
‘And did you tell her you were to be married?’
‘No.’ Her lashes swept her cheeks as she lowered her gaze. ‘I didn’t want her to feel...’
A pause, and Alex filled it in grimly. ‘Guilty? Because you’ve had to sell yourself in order to provide for your sister?’ Milly stared at him uncertainly, clearly not knowing what to make of his comment, or why he’d made it in such a grim voice. And why had he? Everything was happening exactly as he’d intended it should. There was nothing to feel dissatisfied or unsettled about. Nothing at all.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘DO YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS?’
Milly stared at the lawyer’s bland face, her mind spinning. Did she have any questions? She glanced back down at the sheaf of papers spread on the desk in front of her, the typewritten text swimming before her eyes. She didn’t even know where to begin.
‘Miss James?’ The slightest hint of impatience touched the lawyer’s urbane voice.
‘I think it should all be quite clear,’ Alex interjected. He’d been sitting on the sofa in the lawyer’s spacious office, silent and practically glowering, which Milly suspected was his usual look, at least when he had to appear in front of someone. The lawyer had seemed unsurprised by Alex’s scars, but still kept sneaking looks at them, which Alex clearly noticed.
Milly took a deep breath as she tried to marshal her thoughts. She’d listened to the lawyer for the last hour as he’d outlined the terms of the prenuptial contract, but she’d hardly taken any of it in. She could still barely believe she was here, that she was thinking of doing this. She was doing this.
Last night, after their brief chat, she and Alex had eaten dinner mostly in silence. The food had been delicious, but it had begun to taste like ashes in Milly’s mouth because she wanted conversation, not comfort. She wanted companionship, at least in a small degree, and as the evening had worn on she’d feared Alex would not be able to give it to her. Didn’t want to give it to her, which was worse.
She’d made a few attempts, asking him why he chose to settle on Naxos—because it was convenient—and what his business was actually about—buying and selling property. She’d given up after a while, which she suspected was what Alex had wanted. Milly hadn’t expected hearts and rainbows from him; of course she hadn’t. But a little conversation wouldn’t have gone amiss. She told herself it was better to know what to expect, and at least he wasn’t attempting to flatter her the way Philippe had. Still, it felt like cold comfort indeed.
After dinner he’d returned to his apartment, curtly informing her that a limo would pick her up at nine for her medical exam, and then take her afterwards to his lawyer’s office where they would go over the prenuptial agreement.
Then Milly had spent a restless night wondering what on earth was she doing even as she knew she wasn’t going to change her mind. She couldn’t, for Anna’s sake. For Anna’s happiness.
But this morning she was awfully tempted. First, she’d endured the most clinical medical exam she’d ever had at a private medical clinic, squirming in indignity and shame as the doctor had asked her questions about her period, her sexual history, her fertility.
When she’d left the office, her cheeks still scarlet with mortification, Alex had been waiting in the back of his limo. She’d blushed harder when he’d informed her that the doctor would email him the report. So now he would know her periods were regular, she’d never had an STD, and even that she was a virgin. Milly couldn’t bear to meet his eye, but he didn’t seem eager to meet hers, either.
He’d ushered her quickly into the limousine, and since then he’d seemed intent on ignoring her as much as possible. He looked devastatingly attractive in his steel-grey suit, his eyes piercing and blue, his dark hair the perfect foil to his crisp white shirt. The lawyer was obsequious in the way he studiously avoided looking at Alex’s scars, and she could tell it annoyed Alex. It annoyed her as well.
She was already getting used to them, seeing the scars simply as part of who he was. Perhaps because she’d been around such superficial beauty for so long, she found she didn’t mind them in a way he seemed to think people did. Her mother had chased physical perfection with spa days and surgery, expensive ointments and endless make-up, and in the end the beauty was nothing more than a glossy veneer. At least Alex’s scars were real.
‘Are you going to sign it, Milly?’ Alex asked, his voice cutting through her jumbled thoughts. ‘Or not?’
‘Sorry...’ She’d been simply staring into space for the last minutes, and she saw now that the lawyer was impatient, Alex annoyed. She reached for the heavy, expensive-looking fountain pen the lawyer had laid on the table next to the contract and uncapped it, her heart starting to thud.
She hadn’t been able to take in all the terms the man had gone through, but she knew enough to understand the gist of what she was signing. Sort of.
She’d receive the five million euros as soon as they were wed. They were to have regular conjugal relations until she was confirmed pregnant. She would live on Naxos, but be free to travel to Alex’s homes in London and Athens. Any other trips needed to be approved by him, although he’d assured her he would be reasonable. It felt a little bit like prison, a gilded cage, and yet, considering what she was getting, nothing seemed that unreasonable.
And yet...in the end, she was still selling herself for money. Did a wedding ring really make it respectable?
‘Milly...’ Alex said her name like a warning, and she closed her eyes.
She couldn’t back out now. For Anna. She was doing this for Anna. Her mother had married various minor aristocrats so she could fund her extravagant lifestyle. Milly was doing it for the person—the only person—she loved. It was completely different. It had to be.
Wordlessly she bent her head, the contract’s type swimming in front of her, and signed her name. Milly felt as if she’d just opened a vein and dripped blood onto the snowy white documents.
‘There we are,’ the lawyer said smoothly and picked up the contract, shuffling the papers into a neat pile. ‘I believe that concludes our business for today.’
‘T
hank you.’ Alex turned towards the door, and Milly followed him, her stomach churning.
What had she done?
For Anna. This is for Anna.
‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ Alex asked her once they were safely ensconced in his limousine, the tinted windows hiding them from the world.
‘I suppose not.’ Milly’s voice was shaky and she found she had to blink back tears. She hated feeling so raw and uncertain; she’d revelled in the quiet solitude of the last six months, the safety of them, and now she felt as if she’d just upended her entire life. She had no idea what to expect. Nothing felt certain or safe. Were they really going to be married tomorrow?
‘Don’t look so devastated, then,’ Alex said, his voice a sardonic drawl. ‘I promise I will make as few demands on your time as possible.’ He turned away from her to look out of the window, and Milly tried to speak past the lump forming in her throat.
‘Is that what you think I want?’ He merely shrugged, and she made herself continue. ‘I’m not expecting some sort of fairy tale, Alex. Of course I’m not. I wouldn’t even want one, because I know they’re not real.’
‘Then we don’t have a problem.’
‘It would just be nice to be friends,’ Milly persisted, her voice turning a little ragged. ‘Right now it feels as if you can barely tolerate me.’
‘I can tolerate you?’ He let out a harsh laugh. ‘Let’s be honest with each other, Milly, if we can’t be anything else.’
She gazed at him in confusion, wishing he would at least look at her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re the one who can’t tolerate me,’ Alex said flatly. ‘And I don’t blame you for it.’
She gaped, unable to frame a reply for several taut seconds. ‘Is that really what you think?’ she finally managed to gasp out. He’d always seemed so cold, she had trouble believing he could think that. Alex lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. ‘Look at me,’ Milly demanded. ‘If we are to be married, at least look at me.’
He swung around to face her, his eyes glittering like blue fire—or maybe ice, because his expression was cold. Cold and furious. ‘Are you sure you want to look at me?’
He held her gaze, and Milly did not look away. She didn’t even blink. ‘Is this about your scars?’ she asked evenly, willing her voice not to tremble. She could feel the heat rolling off him, inhaled the citrusy scent of his aftershave that awakened her senses. ‘Do you honestly think I’m so shallow? Why would you be willing to marry me if I was?’
‘Shallow or not, I’m not very pleasant to look at,’ Alex returned flatly. ‘Fact.’
‘Isn’t beauty in the eye of the beholder?’ Milly asked softly, and Alex rolled his eyes.
‘How can you even say that with a straight face? You don’t find me beautiful, Milly.’
She hesitated, sifting through her jumbled thoughts, and then chose honesty, painful as it was. ‘No, I don’t,’ she agreed, and something flickered across Alex’s face before his expression closed off completely. ‘But not because of your scars. Because of how...how cold you’re being. It feels as if you’re choosing to distance yourself, and that’s not how I want to start our marriage, even if it is one that is based on business.’
Alex was silent for a long moment, staring at her. Their faces were so close she could see the dark glint of stubble on his freshly shaven chin, the icy blue of his eyes piercing her like an arrow. She inhaled the musky smell of his aftershave again, and her heart tumbled in her chest.
Then Alex eased back, turning his head away from her in a deliberate movement. ‘Too bad,’ he said, and neither of them spoke again.
* * *
So she thought he was cold. Alex gazed dispassionately at his reflection in the mirror—full on, so he could see both the beauty and ugliness, the scars and the smooth skin. Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde in the flesh—and in the soul. His face, he feared, was a reflection of who he truly was. Hiding the darkness. Pretending to the world that he was only half of who he was. That he didn’t hurt the people he loved. That he didn’t destroy them.
And she thought he was simply cold. Well, cold was better than cruel. Cold was fine—because it kept them both safe. And Milly would just have to learn to live with it, because he didn’t know how to be anything else. From his childhood he’d learned to stay distant from other people, out of self-preservation, and that had only been exacerbated since his accident. Eventually she would accept how he was, and realise it was better this way. It had to be.
In any case, he saw the way she looked at his scars. She might say they didn’t matter, but of course they did. How could they not? He’d seen the pity in her eyes, the way her gaze darted away, and that told him all he needed to know.
He turned away from his reflection and glanced at his watch; he was meeting Milly in a few minutes to take a limousine to his private yacht docked at Piraeus. From there they would travel to Naxos, where they would be married.
Alex had been planning on a civil ceremony at the city hall here in Athens, but yesterday, after they’d signed the prenuptial agreement, after that taut confrontation in the limo, Milly had asked if they could marry on the island, in a church.
‘I know it’s a business deal,’ she’d said with quiet dignity, her chin tilted at a proud angle, ‘but it doesn’t have to be businesslike in every particular, and I would like to marry in a church and say my vows before God.’
‘Wouldn’t you be saying them before God in any case?’ Alex had drawled, and she’d merely gazed at him steadily, waiting for his answer, refusing to be baited. He’d felt shamed by his seeming pettiness; the truth was the whole ordeal of being with her, having her look at him, having her want to know him, even in the smallest degree, left him feeling raw and exposed, as if yet another layer of skin had been peeled back to reveal the agonising nerve-endings underneath. He had enough scars already. He didn’t need any more.
‘Please, Alex,’ she’d said. ‘This is a small request.’
Small to her, perhaps, but not to him. She had no idea what awaited him on Naxos, why he’d been back only once since the fire, and he was hardly going to tell her now. And so he’d agreed, even though he dreaded the thought of facing the villagers of Naxos, because he didn’t want to have to explain and, in truth, something in him wanted to please her, which was absurd yet true. The small smile of thanks she’d given him when he had agreed had lightened his heart a ridiculous amount.
Milly was already waiting in the limousine when he left his flat; his driver had picked her up at the hotel before fetching him. Alex slid onto the leather seat, his thigh brushing hers before she inched away. He wondered if she would shrink away like that tomorrow night, when they were in bed. He thought it likely, but she would simply have to grit her teeth and bear it as she held up her end of the bargain.
‘I didn’t know you had a yacht,’ she remarked as the limo pulled away from the kerb. ‘You came to Naxos by helicopter.’
‘I don’t have time usually to travel by sea, but it does tend to be far more relaxing.’ He paused, and then, somewhat to his surprise, decided to make the effort of conversing. ‘Do you like sailing?’
‘I don’t know, I haven’t been, really.’ She smiled self-consciously. ‘The only boat I’ve been on is the ferry to Naxos.’
‘It is?’ He frowned. From what she’d said of her parents, he’d surmised they were fairly well off, and she’d said she had lived in several cosmopolitan cities. ‘I’m surprised.’
‘Are you?’ She shrugged. ‘I never had the opportunity.’
‘Yet you’ve lived in Paris, in London, in Buenos Aires.’
‘What does that have to do with sailing?’
‘I simply thought you would have had a variety of life experiences.’
She paused, her face drawn in reflective and even sorrowful lines. ‘I suppose I’ve had certain experiences, but in their essence
they’ve all been the same.’
‘How?’ The word came out abrupt, and she raised her eyebrows, a faint smile playing about her mouth even though her eyes still looked soft and sad.
‘You want to get to know me now?’
‘I’m curious.’
She shrugged. ‘My mother found me to mainly be an inconvenience. She sent me to boarding school when she could afford it, and left me at home when she couldn’t.’
Alex frowned. ‘And what about your father?’
‘They divorced when I was five. I rarely ever saw him.’
It sounded miserable—about as miserable as his childhood, and yet as far as he could tell she hadn’t had the loving care of a stepfather the way he had been blessed to have. ‘Were any of your step-parents decent people?’ he asked. ‘Besides Bentano?’
‘I wouldn’t call them parents, really,’ Milly answered after a moment. ‘They certainly didn’t see themselves in that role.’
Which told him everything he needed to know, and left him feeling oddly unsettled, although he couldn’t say why. They didn’t speak again until the limousine pulled up to the dock at Piraeus, and Alex ushered her towards the gleaming white superyacht.
‘This is yours?’ Milly’s eyes widened as she took in all fifty metres of the impressive structure.
‘It belonged to my stepfather,’ Alex answered as he took her hand to help her aboard. One of his staff, paid to be discreet and blank-faced, stepped back. ‘He used to host parties on it, for business.’
‘And you don’t?’
‘No.’ Not any more.
She gazed at him uncertainly, their hands still clasped, her slender fingers resting on his. ‘Because of your scars?’ she asked quietly, and he cringed at the pity he thought he heard in her tone.
‘Yes, but also because I am not much of one for parties. Never have been.’