Читать книгу Modern Romance January 2017 Books 5 - 8 - Мишель Смарт, Andie Brock - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

‘OH, THAT IS very clever,’ Elizabeth whispered after a long pause during which her breathing deepened. ‘Machiavelli would be proud.’

Xander didn’t say a word. What could he say?

It wasn’t for ever, he told himself in mitigation. A few months of her life at the most, and he would pay her handsomely for it.

‘Just tell me how you plan to explain Ana.’

His stomach lurched. ‘You know about her?’

Throughout the years, whenever an unguarded moment found him thinking of Elizabeth, he would wonder if she’d learned of Ana. He’d never spoken of Ana to the press but occasionally an article would appear that mentioned his tragic fiancée.

When Xander had ended his engagement, he hadn’t hung around to deal with the fallout. He’d been sick of everything: his family, her family... He’d needed a break from it all. And so he’d found himself in St Francis, where he’d met Elizabeth.

She’d been a ray of light that had beamed straight into his heart, a loving innocent when he’d only known indifference and manipulation. In the greedy haze of lust he’d been certain he was in love with her. He’d been unaware that his and Ana’s families had postponed the statement about the end of the engagement, both families convinced he was suffering from nothing more than cold feet and would realise the error of his ways on his return and marry Ana after all.

Ana had known he would never change his mind.

The call from his mother notifying him of Ana’s death had brought him crashing down to earth and he’d seen the truth right there in front of him: Elizabeth wouldn’t have lasted a week with his family. All the joy and sunshine she brought into a room would have been snuffed out with the poison his parents and those they mixed with breathed.

‘I know you were engaged to her,’ Elizabeth said in a whisper. ‘You were childhood sweethearts. And I know you never mentioned her to me. You told me...’ She swallowed. ‘You said you’d never been in love before. That was a lie.’ Then she shook her head, her voice regaining a brisk tone. ‘So how are you going to explain marrying me when you were engaged to someone else? How is that going to paint you in a respectable fashion?’

He didn’t blink. ‘I’d ended my engagement to Ana before I met you. She died while I was here with you. I didn’t cheat on anyone. When I met you I was single. I couldn’t have predicted what would happen to her.’

Xander knew he sounded cold. Thinking of Ana and what happened to her always made him feel cold. He would never know what had been going through her head the night she died but knew he would carry the guilt for ever.

For a long time Elizabeth did nothing but stare at him. And as he stared back, a pain settled in his chest as he recalled her devastation when he’d walked away.

‘Is that the truth or another clever statement you’ve concocted?’ she asked coldly.

‘It’s the truth. Ana and I were over when I met you.’

She inhaled deeply, then gave a sharp nod and, without uttering another word, opened her door. She took hold of her belongings, and got out of the car, handing her stuff to the porter who had rushed to meet them.

Alone in the car, Xander closed his eyes.

Elizabeth really had changed.

Ten years ago she’d been easy to read. Everything she thought or felt was there in those amber eyes. He couldn’t read them now. She’d built a wall around herself, a guard he suspected she rarely let anyone see beneath.

This wall would stand her in good stead. But it wasn’t just the wall she’d built; she’d developed a tough core.

The old sweet Elizabeth would have been destroyed to have his mother’s venom turned on her. This Elizabeth wouldn’t take crap from anyone. She would survive their short rekindling intact.

Filled with resolve that he was doing the right thing, he got out and threw the keys at the valet. With a camera flashing frantically in his face, he strode into the grand foyer.

It was time to play their romance to a wider audience.

Elizabeth was waiting at the reception desk. Reaching her side, he slipped an arm around her waist and gave his name to the receptionist, who wasn’t quick enough to hide the widening of her eyes.

Even the inhabitants of tiny St Francis had heard of his so-called debauchery.

He signed the forms, and the key cards were handed over to them.

Elizabeth looked at hers, read the name of the villa they were staying in, and nearly dropped it.

‘Enjoy your stay,’ the receptionist said with a coo.

All she could give was a rigid smile in return.

Xander took her hand and tugged at it to get her moving.

Just about ready to kill him but determined to affect nonchalance with an audience watching, she let him lead her to the far door that would take her to the same private villa he’d upgraded them to after they’d married. The honeymoon suite.

They followed the same narrow rocky path they’d taken a decade ago, passed the same open-air restaurant with the same jazz music playing, the same sweet-smelling flowers as the path took them further from the main hotel, the same herbaceous borders, the same distant noise of crickets calling to each other...everything the same. Even her husband.

But Xander was no longer the irrepressible young hunk she’d fallen in love with. He was a hard-nosed, wildly successful businessman with a ruthlessness that made her mother look like an amateur.

And he’d never been in love with her. The most she’d been to him was a rebound fling that went too far.

The sights, scents and sounds opened up so many memories her head flooded with them. This first step to their villa was the place Xander had scooped her into his arms and carried her to their door. This villa door where he now swiped the key card was where he had put her down, pressed her against this very wall and kissed her so hard her lips had bruised. This threshold she now crossed was the same one he’d picked her back up to carry her over.

And this villa was the very same one they’d made love in so many times it had been impossible to keep count, right until he’d received one phone call and dropped her quicker than an outfielder letting an easy catch slip through his fingers.

She hadn’t known it then but that call had been the one telling him his fiancée had died.

Was he telling the truth that he’d ended the engagement before he’d met her? Or was it just another strategy to accompany their charade?

What did it matter anyway? It had all happened a decade ago. It meant nothing to her now. She only felt so raw and unhinged because...well, because her life had just been devastated all over again by the same man who’d almost broken her before.

Holding her breath, she walked into the villa. Her stuff had been placed on the floor of the spacious living area next to a suitcase she assumed was Xander’s, although she hadn’t seen any sight of it until then.

‘Where are the staff?’ she asked stiffly. The villa came with its own butler, maid and chef.

‘I’ve told them we want privacy. They won’t come unless we call them.’

He’d done the same when they’d married, ensuring the utmost privacy for them. Back then she had rejoiced in it.

The villa had a large kitchen in the corner of the main living area.

Xander peered into the huge American fridge and pulled out a bottle of white wine. ‘Drink?’

‘No.’ She nearly followed it with a thank you but stopped herself in time. She didn’t owe him anything, least of all good manners. ‘I’m going to bed. You’re welcome to the master bedroom.’

She would rather swim with piranhas than sleep in that room. The second bedroom was every bit as nice and came with the added bonus of not being seeped in memories of them being together.

‘We’ve only just got here.’

‘The sooner I get to sleep, the sooner I’ll wake up and can go back to New York.’ She didn’t want to think any more. Her head hurt too much to handle anything else. All she wanted now was a few hours of oblivion.

‘We’ll be flying directly to Athens.’

‘You can. I need to go home. I have work.’

‘Elizabeth, your home is with me now.’ As he spoke he put the wine back in the fridge and took out a bottle of beer as replacement.

‘I can’t come with you yet. I have things to do, arrangements to make...’

‘You’ll have to do it remotely.’ He opened a drawer.

‘That’s impossible.’

He rooted through another drawer and pulled out a bottle opener. ‘I need to get back to Loukas. I promised him I wouldn’t be longer than two days.’ He fixed her with a stare. ‘Or do you think I should break a promise to an eight-year-old boy?’

‘That’s not fair,’ she protested. ‘I didn’t know you’d promised him that. Of course you must keep it, but your promise doesn’t involve me. You go ahead and I’ll fly over when my affairs are straight.’

‘You will fly with me in the morning. The rekindling of our marriage starts immediately. The longer we’re together before the court hearing, the more established and stronger we will look as a couple.’

‘My staff deserve better than to be laid off by email.’

‘The money I’ll transfer into their bank accounts will make up for it. Give me their details and I’ll do it now. I’ll also transfer a quarter of a million dollars into your account—call it a retainer. You’ll get the balance when we go our separate ways.’

‘And if we fail?’ Was there a chance she could walk out of this nightmare and still lose everything?

His eyes narrowed.

‘What happens to me if the judge gives your parents custody?’ she persisted.

Xander’s voice was like ice as he said, ‘It will only come to that over my cold dead body.’

* * *

Elizabeth sat in the lotus position on the floor of her locked bedroom, eyes closed, willing her mind to clear and for tranquillity to seep into her consciousness.

It wasn’t happening.

How could she find any peace of mind with Xander situated on the other side of the wall?

God, that was all that separated them. After ten years apart they now had nothing but a wall of bricks dividing them.

An hour after she’d left him swigging moodily from his beer bottle, she’d heard the faint sound of a shower running from the next room.

She hadn’t heard anything from him since. That didn’t stop her ears straining for any movement.

It was a struggle to take in everything that had happened over the past few hours. How could she not have realised the annulment was never finalised and they were still married? It defied credulity. But back then she’d had so many other things to deal with and she had never dreamt their annulment would be denied. How could any judge fail to give an annulment with the facts before them?

Turned out a judge could, and if she’d only taken the effort to make one phone call she wouldn’t be in the mess she was in now.

Her life as she knew it was over, at least for the foreseeable future.

This time tomorrow, her business would be over permanently.

She’d dealt with major upheaval before. She’d left the path she’d originally chosen and taken a completely different route and not only survived but thrived. She could thrive again. When all this was over she would pick herself up and start again, just as she had before.

All she had to do to get out of this mess without being left flat broke was convince a Greek judge that she and Xander were a stable couple in love.

It would be easier to feign love with a rattlesnake and, she suspected, safer.

Her thighs aching and her brain still refusing to switch off, Elizabeth gave up her attempts at meditation and took a shower.

Just as wired after her shower as she’d been before, she accepted she could kiss any sleep goodbye. The walls of the room seemed to be compressing in on her, squeezing the air from her lungs. She needed to get out. She wished she could take a long walk.

Throwing on the robe provided by the hotel, she went to the door and turned the handle. She strained her ears but the only sound to be heard was her own heart pumping.

She took a deep breath and stepped out onto the ceramic tiles, cautiously checking Xander’s door. It was shut.

Ghostly moonlight poured in through the high windows and patio doors where the shutters hadn’t been closed.

After a moment’s indecision she crossed to the patio doors and stared out.

Cut into the mountains, the villa had the perfect view of St Francis Bay, which rippled gently in the near distance, matchstick figures walking hand in hand along the shore. She swallowed back the ache that formed to remember her and Xander doing that same moonlit walk.

Sliding the patio door open, she stepped outside and was immediately enveloped in the rich, balmy Caribbean night. The moon loomed huge in the sky, bathing everything in light.

The heady sweet scent of butterfly jasmine, always at its strongest in the midnight hours, filled the air. As she breathed it in, a lancing pain shot through her, so strong she flattened a hand against her stomach to counteract it. It was the scent that had sat the strongest in her memories of her time at St Francis and a scent she had actively avoided since because it always carried her back to the time before he’d rejected her, when she’d thought she’d found her soulmate.

Elizabeth had never felt as if she belonged to anyone as anything other than a possession to be fought over, but for two glorious weeks with Xander she had felt as precious and invaluable as any jewel.

And then he’d dumped her as if she were worthless and broken her heart as easily as if it had been made from glass.

Hearing movement behind her, she sighed and swallowed back a lump in her throat.

‘Beautiful night, isn’t it?’ he said quietly, coming to stand beside her at the balustrade. He sounded different from earlier. Less edgy.

‘It was.’

He laughed, a low rumbly sound that carried through the still air. It was the first sign of the old humour she had adored. ‘Don’t hate me, Elizabeth.’

She turned her head a fraction to look at him and immediately wished she hadn’t. Xander was wearing nothing but a pair of low-slung black shorts. She could smell the citrusy scent of his shower gel. She could smell him, and closed her eyes tightly along with her breath.

In their time apart it wasn’t just his shoulders that had filled out, it was all of him. The fit, lithe young man who could have been mistaken for a surfer dude was now a toned, muscular thirty-year-old. The years had hardened him but they’d also added a whole new testosterone-filled dimension.

An ache formed low in her belly, a liquid tightness that turned into a throb...

She turned her attention back to the beach. ‘You could have just told me about Loukas from the start. It didn’t have to be like this.’

‘To guarantee your agreement, it did. I wasn’t prepared to hear you say no and I didn’t have the time to sweet-talk you into it.’

‘I don’t want your sweet talk.’

‘I’ve figured that out for myself,’ he said drily.

‘Then you’re smart enough to figure out that it’s impossible for me not to hate you.’

‘That is regrettable.’ He rested his hands on the balustrade next to hers.

She looked down at them, so close to her own, and experienced another pang. His muscular arms were tanned and covered in sun-bleached fine hair that stopped at the wrists. The long, strong hands...how could she have remembered them in such detail, right down to the silvery scar on the left one? Was there not a single thing she’d forgotten even though she’d spent the last decade determinedly not thinking of him except in the most unguarded of moments?

At least her private thoughts weren’t something his spies could have discovered.

Her body heated with the rise of humiliation at what they would have learned and relayed to Xander. While he was busy enjoying life to the full, bedding as many beautiful women as he could get his greedy hands on, she’d spent the intervening years alone. Not even a brief fling or two to even things out between them and stop her feeling like an English spinster in an old-fashioned novel.

God, she’d never even thought this way before. She’d been happy in her solitary life. She’d had her business. She’d employed some great people who were fun to be around and had some great friends. She had enough money not to worry about starving and was able to splash out on the odd pair of her favourite designer’s shoes whenever the mood took her.

But prying eyes wouldn’t see this. All prying eyes would see was her retiring to bed alone every night.

She took a step back and jutted her chin. ‘The only regrettable thing is that I ever met you in the first place.’

Without wishing him a good night—for she absolutely did not wish him anything other than a sleep full of bad dreams—Elizabeth went back into the villa and locked her bedroom door behind her.