by Kate Hewitt
How would they react when they saw him? Would they sneer? Hiss? Spit? He wouldn’t blame them for any of it. Nothing one of the villagers could say could be worse than what he’d said in his own mind. What he lived with every day. Two of the people he’d loved the most had died, and it was his fault entirely. The scars he bore were remarkably little punishment, considering.
And it seemed fitting, and somehow just, to walk among the people who had loved Daphne, to let them see his shame. To feel their hate...even on his wedding day. But perhaps no one would come to the chapel where they were to be married, a short distance from Halki. Perhaps the gossip hadn’t spread of his marriage; perhaps they didn’t care.
Squaring his shoulders, Alex turned away from the mirror.
He’d avoided Milly and Anna since their arrival yesterday, closeting himself in his study and missing meals. His fiancée and her sister would want some alone time, and he had no desire for Anna to flinch from his scars along with his bride-to-be.
Then yesterday evening Milly had slipped into his study and asked him to at least meet her sister before their wedding day. He’d said yes, because he realised it would be better for Anna to see his scars now and not in the church. But when he’d made an appearance on the terrace that evening, the setting sun turning the sea to a shimmering plate of gold, Anna greeted him without a flicker or quiver. Clearly Milly had prepared her for what he looked like, and he didn’t know how to feel about that.
Upon examination, he realised he felt an irritating mixture of gratitude and hurt, which didn’t make any sense. It was the same kind of ferment of emotion he’d experienced when Milly had hugged him and then stepped away so quickly—desire and disgust, hope and disappointment. He couldn’t blame her for her reaction, and yet it still nagged at him, like a paper cut that wouldn’t heal.
After trying to feel numb for so long, it all felt like too much. He didn’t understand why he was responding to everything, why the simplest smile or gesture made him feel scraped raw. It wasn’t supposed to be this way; he wanted, he needed to stay in control. Instead he felt edgy and irritable.
Even now he could remember the soft and pliant warmth of her body pressed against his for a few torturous seconds and his body ached with memory and desire. She’d jumped away from him as if she’d been scalded—or repulsed.
Well, tonight they would be closer still, but he would do his best to make it as brief as possible. That was the least he could do for his bride...perhaps the only thing.
Alex strode outside the villa, the bright summer sun hitting him in the face with a blast of unforgiving heat. Yiannis, acting as his driver, gave him a smile in the rear-view mirror as Alex climbed into the back of the car.
‘You are ready, Kyrie Santos?’
‘Yes. As ready as I’ll ever be.’
‘She is a good person, I think,’ Yiannis ventured. Yiannis had been with Alex for over a decade; he’d been there at the fire, had helped to drag him out. He was one of the few people Alex trusted implicitly, and he knew Milly better than Alex knew her himself.
‘Yes,’ Alex answered tersely as he thought of Milly, her shy smile, those pansy-brown eyes. ‘I think she is.’ Unlike him.
They did not speak again as Yiannis drove him the few kilometres to Saint Panormitis, the tiny little red-roofed chapel set among the rocky hills outside Halki, the barren sweep of land meeting the bright blue horizon.
It was a lonely place, yet no less beautiful for it, the chapel huddled among the scrub and brush, its whitewashed walls dazzling under the azure sky. No one was waiting outside save the priest and the witnesses, two of Alex’s staff in addition to Yiannis. He glanced around for Milly, but he couldn’t see her anywhere, and with a lurch of panic he wondered if she hadn’t turned up. What if she’d backed out at the last moment? He wouldn’t even blame her, not really. Five million euros wasn’t nearly the good deal she thought it was.
Yiannis touched his elbow. ‘Miss James has gone into Halki,’ he said quietly. ‘For flowers.’
Relief pulsed through Alex even as he realised he hadn’t considered any of the usual details involved in a wedding—flowers or a dress or the traditional party afterwards. Did Milly want those things? Should he have put some consideration into their business arrangement?
No, of course he shouldn’t have. Realisation jolted through him, strangely unwelcome. Of course they wouldn’t have those things. Why dress up what it was they had, put the plain truth in frills and lace? Milly had told him she was wary of love, cynical of romance, and he was the same. There was no need to pretend otherwise now, simply because they were making vows.
And then he turned and saw her. His heart seemed to stop in his chest as she crested the hill, her hair blowing loosely about her shoulders, a bouquet of tiny white star-like flowers and trailing ivy clasped in her hands. She wore a dress of ivory silk, the cut simple and lovely, with cap sleeves and an empire waist, the lace-edged hem brushing her ankles. Anna walked a little bit behind her, looking youthful and pretty in a pink sundress, and grinning with such obvious happiness that Alex felt jolted.
This almost felt like a real wedding. Which, of course, it was. And yet...he felt wrong-footed, wrong-hearted, as Milly walked towards him, a smile like a promise on her face, in her eyes. She was looking at him as if she felt something. She held out one slender hand, the other holding her bouquet.
‘Shall we walk in together?’
Alex stared at her helplessly, so surprised by this moment, by her and even by himself. It felt far too important, as well as too sweet. The cold business deal he’d imagined was morphing into something else entirely, a couple on a hill, holding hands and making promises.
Anna, he saw, was still beaming at them as if she thought they were truly a man and woman in love. And for a single, blazing second, Alex could almost imagine that they were. That this was simple. ‘All right,’ he said, and he tucked Milly’s hand into his, liking the feel of it there, snug and warm and safe.
Then together they walked into the little church.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHE WAS MARRIED. Milly hadn’t actually spoken any vows or made any promises, but the Orthodox priest had spoken for them, and they’d exchange crowns of laurel and shared a common cup, traditions in the church that Milly didn’t completely understand but still seemed sacred.
She knew what they’d done was binding. She’d felt it in her soul, as if she’d just jumped off a cliff and now was soaring in the sky, unsure whether she’d continue to fly or plummet to the earth like Icarus with his waxen wings. How had Alex felt about the ceremony? When she’d looked into his eyes as they’d drunk from the same cup, she hadn’t been able to tell a thing.
He hadn’t spoken throughout the ceremony, and nor had she, but before they’d walked into the church, he’d almost looked...well, it was hard to know how he’d looked, considering how closed he was generally, but for a second he’d seemed...moved. And that had filled her with a sudden, buoyant hope that she was afraid to examine too closely. She wasn’t going to fall in love with him or anything stupid like that, just because he’d been a little bit nice to her. She was going to keep this businesslike, because that worked for them both.
And yet...that moment had given her pause. Made her wonder if this odd agreement could turn into something else, something more like friendship. She would never wish for more than that. She wouldn’t let herself.
Now they walked out of the church in silence, blinking in the bright sunlight, a married couple, although Milly still had no idea what their marriage was going to look like. Or their wedding night. The thought made her heart flutter with both anticipation and alarm.
As she stepped outside, it was so bright that she was blinded for a moment, but then she heard applause, and, when she finally blinked the world into focus, she saw a scattering of villagers on the rocky hillside, about two dozen men and women, all of them clap
ping, their gazes trained on Alex, their expressions strangely sober. She glanced back at Alex, and saw he looked as startled as she did.
Yiannis, his driver, said something to Alex in Greek, but Milly couldn’t make it out. She had no idea what was going on. Who were these people?
Then Alex spoke. ‘Efharisto,’ he said, a word Milly knew. Thank you. But then he said something else that she didn’t understand, and the villagers all started shaking their heads. Anna glanced at Milly in confusion, but she just shrugged. She had no idea what was happening, or who these people were. Did they know Alex simply because he had a villa on the island? It seemed deeper than that, their silent stares both compassionate and convicting, as well as weirdly intense.
‘Come on,’ Alex muttered. ‘Let’s get in the car.’
‘What about all these people...?’
‘They’ve got what they came for.’
She frowned. ‘And what was that?’
‘To see me.’
‘See you...’ She shook her head. ‘But why were they clapping for you?’
‘They were clapping for us. For our marriage.’ But Milly hadn’t quite got that feeling. They had been looking at Alex, not her. It had felt more personal than mere congratulations. But her husband clearly was not in the mood for answering questions, for he took her by the hand and led her towards the waiting car. She climbed in, and Alex followed, then Anna. In silence Yiannis drove them away.
‘So congratulations,’ Anna said brightly once they’d left the chapel, the car hurtling down the hill towards home. ‘That was a beautiful service.’ She beamed at Alex, who looked entirely nonplussed, as well he should. Anna was acting far too cheerful. ‘I hope you’re going to celebrate today.’
He slid Milly a guarded look. ‘I hadn’t thought of it.’
‘Well, I have,’ Anna announced. Surprise flickered across Alex’s face and then was gone, replaced by a cold, closed look Milly already knew well.
‘Have you?’ he remarked in a neutral tone.
‘Yes. It’s not much, but you are married and I think you should celebrate.’ She gave him a challenging look, which Alex met, and Milly wondered how to intervene. How to keep her sister from spinning fairy tales, and annoying her husband.
Yesterday, when Anna had asked her if she loved Alex, Milly had spun a tissue of lies about how she’d fallen in love with him as soon as she’d been hired, gazing at him from afar until he’d asked her to marry him for business reasons.
She’d told Anna she’d said yes to his proposal because she wanted to be with him so badly, and she hoped he’d return her feelings in time, as he got to know her. Anna had bought the whole silly story from first to last, her eyes starry as she’d exclaimed how romantic it all was, while Milly had felt more and more wretched for lying to her sister.
‘He must have some feelings for you already, Milly,’ Anna had exclaimed. ‘Why else would he ask you, you and not some socialite, to marry him?’
‘I was convenient.’ Already Milly had seriously regretted spinning the stupid story, but how could she tell Anna the truth? Her sister would feel horribly guilty that she’d forced Milly into a loveless marriage, even if Milly had been the one to make the choice. And it was her choice. She wouldn’t let herself regret it.
‘Still. He will fall in love with you, Milly, in time. Head over heels.’ Anna’s eyes had sparkled. ‘I’ll make sure of it.’
‘Anna...’ Milly had started in warning, but her sister had been on a romantic roll, determined to make the day special when Milly knew it wasn’t—and her husband-to-be didn’t want it to be. That morning Anna had insisted on going into Halki so Milly could buy a wedding dress and flowers.
Amazingly in the tiny village they’d found a wonderful dress in a dark and narrow little shop, one that fitted Milly perfectly, and felt like fate. When he’d heard about the wedding, the local grocer had picked flowers from his garden and given them to her for free, kissing her on both cheeks as he’d wished her health and happiness.
Milly had been torn between getting caught up in others’ excitement, and a growing sense of dread that Alex wasn’t going to like any of these romantic details. In fact, he’d probably hate them.
He’d seemed dangerously nonplussed by Anna’s breathy sighs and approving smiles during the short ceremony, her sister clearly imagining a fairy tale where there so glaringly was none.
Now the truth of their marriage was being revealed, as Alex stalked towards his study. He’d already plucked the laurel crown from his head and tossed it aside carelessly as Milly watched him, trying not to feel hurt even though she knew she’d save her crown, as well as her bouquet. No matter how businesslike their arrangement, it was still a wedding, and most likely the only one she’d ever have.
Alex disappeared into his study, closing the door behind him with a final click. So much for their celebrations. Anna gave her a sympathetic look, which only made her feel guilty.
‘I think I should change,’ she said as brightly as she could. ‘And then we’ll have something to eat.’
‘But you’ve barely worn your wedding dress,’ Anna protested. ‘And you can’t be acting as housekeeper on your wedding day of all days.’
‘And who else will?’ Milly answered with an attempt at a laugh. This felt like the least celebratory wedding day ever.
‘I will,’ Anna returned with spirit. ‘You can’t cook and clean today, Milly. I told you, we’re having a celebration.’
‘Anna, it’s really not that kind of marriage,’ Milly protested. ‘Not yet,’ she added, hating herself for continuing with the lie that she was madly in love with her boss—and now her husband. A tremor ran through her at the thought. What if Alex found out about the tale she’d been spinning? What if he believed it, and was horrified?
Anna’s lower lip jutted out as she folded her arms. ‘And what about tonight, Milly? Your honeymoon—’
‘Anna.’ Milly couldn’t keep from blushing. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about that with her sister, or with anyone. She couldn’t even think about tonight. Not yet.
‘I’m fourteen, Milly,’ Anna chided. ‘And you’re married. It needs to be special.’
‘I really don’t want to talk about this—’
‘Fine. We won’t.’ Anna shooed her away. ‘Go get changed. I’ll take care of everything.’
‘What?’ Milly practically spluttered. She could not begin to imagine what Anna was thinking of doing, or what Alex’s reaction would be. ‘Anna, seriously, let’s just relax, okay? There really doesn’t need to be any fuss. Alex won’t want there to be...’
‘Don’t worry,’ Anna answered, half pushing her towards the stairs. ‘You won’t have to do a thing. I’ve got it all under control.’
Which worried her all the more. With mounting unease, Milly went upstairs to change. She took off her wedding dress slowly, her eyes on her reflection, noting the sorrow that had crept into them, casting shadows.
For a brief, painful moment, she imagined how different this day might have been. They’d have returned to the villa for a party, food and wine, laughter and dancing out on the terrace, until the sun set over the sea and Alex took her by the hand and led her back to the house, up to the bedroom.
He’d turn to her, his bright blue eyes turning sleepy and hooded as he tugged the zip down the back of her dress and the silky material fell away. Then he’d reach for her, and his lips would brush hers...
Goodness. Milly let out a shuddering breath as the effects of that image trickled through her like heated honey, making something both lazy and urgent unfurl deep inside. Such a different scenario had been all too easy to imagine, and yet she knew, she absolutely knew, it wasn’t going to happen like that. She didn’t even want it to happen like that. She’d told Alex the truth when she’d said she was wary of romance, cynical of love. Now that she was married, she most certain
ly could not go building castles in the air.
With a sigh, she turned away from her reflection, trying to banish the last remnants of that warm, sensuous feeling, and finished getting dressed. She needed to get back downstairs before her sister started festooning the villa with paper hearts and hiring someone to play the violin. Milly wouldn’t put anything past her at this stage.
When Milly came downstairs, she saw that Anna had been busy getting things ready, although thankfully without any cringeworthy decorations or serenading violins. A table for two was set outside on the terrace, with the finest linens and crystal from the villa’s cupboards. Yiannis must have been in on the plan because there was fresh food that had been brought from Halki—a mouth-watering Greek salad, crispy souvlaki and fresh pitta bread with several yogurt-based dips. Milly gazed at it in a mix of hope and apprehension; would Alex object to them sharing a meal together? She had no idea.
‘This looks amazing,’ she told Anna, grateful at least that her sister had only planned a meal, and not something more obviously romantic. ‘But you should join us, Anna, and Yiannis, too. It is a celebration, after all—’
‘Absolutely not,’ Anna returned firmly. ‘This is for the two of you. You need to get to know each other,’ she added meaningfully, and Milly briefly closed her eyes. Alex would eventually twig to Anna’s obvious attempts at creating romance, and then what would she say? He would no doubt be coldly scornful of such attempts, and Milly didn’t think she could bear his contempt.
Yes, Anna was being young and sentimental, but she was a teenager and she’d had so little love in her life. Milly couldn’t bear not to go along with it, even if the thought of Alex’s reaction made her stomach cramp.