Читать книгу The Mills & Boon Ultimate Christmas Collection - Мишель Смарт, Kate Hardy - Страница 82

CHAPTER TEN

THREE WEEKS LATER, Pixie blinked sleepily into wakefulness and finally sat up to make a grab for the phone ringing while ruefully contemplating the empty space beside her. It was forty-eight hours since Apollo had flown to London on business. Pixie would have accompanied him had the whole household not been in chaos getting ready for the big party the following day. With the housekeeper, Olympia, presenting Pixie with query after query it had slowly dawned on her that she needed to stay on Nexos to take charge.

‘Nonsense,’ Apollo had declared without hesitation. ‘These matters have been managed without a wife’s input for years.’

But during that conversation Pixie had had to race off and be horribly sick, which had driven home hard another drawback. Hours of travel with her current delicate stomach would make her miserable and she was in no hurry to face Apollo with the repugnant downside of pregnancy. She was being ill an awful lot more than she had ever expected because her morning sickness seemed to attack at all times of the day. For that reason she had used the party arrangements as an excuse because she didn’t want Apollo to realise just how sick she was. While in her head she knew she should be sharing her suffering with him because he was an adult, it was a struggle to overcome her reluctance. He would fuss and she hated fuss and didn’t want to be treated like an invalid. In any case they had arranged for Pixie to have her first scan that very afternoon and she planned to ask the visiting gynaecologist then about her seemingly excessive sickness.

Pixie put the phone to her ear.

‘Pixie?’ Holly exclaimed before bursting into a mile-a-minute speech that left Pixie, who was still drowsy, none the wiser.

‘Sorry, I didn’t catch all that,’ she confided.

‘You’ve seen that stupid story already, haven’t you?’ Holly groaned. ‘Your voice sounds weird…you’ve been crying…’

A cold feeling slid down Pixie’s spine while she leant back against the pillows, striving to overcome the nausea beginning to creep over her. It would’ve been easier for her to simply admit that she was pregnant and sick but her best friend would be arriving the next day for the party and she wanted to save her baby news until she saw her in person. ‘What story?’

‘Vito insists it’s untrue…well, with that particular girl.’

‘Can I phone you back, Holly?’ Pixie gasped, cutting off the call and leaping from the bed in wild haste to charge for the bathroom.

Afterwards, she rested her brow down on the welcome coldness of the marble vanity counter and tried to muster the energy to clean her teeth. Oh, dear, she thought limply, it had not occurred to her that pregnancy would be quite so challenging. Certainly Holly had had a few upsets during her pregnancy but nothing similar to what Pixie was encountering.

And what had Holly been referring to? Some story in a newspaper? About Vito? No, why would she be phoning Pixie if it had been about Vito? And why would Holly think she had been crying about something? The chilled feeling of foreboding returned and as Pixie’s brain began to function again she reached for the tablet by the bed and put Apollo’s name in the search engine. The usual flock of references came up. She knew from experience that if she wanted to she could now access images of herself arriving on Nexos looking like a skinny bird in a very big sun hat that covered her face almost completely…

She sat on the edge of the bed while a tabloid page formed under the title ‘Leopards don’t change their spots…’ And with perspiration breaking out on her clammy skin she read about how the newly married Apollo Metraxis had been pictured entering his apartment building with a very beautiful girl and emerging with her still in tow the following morning. For a few moments she thought she would be sick again but she fought the urge fiercely.

So, what she had always expected to happen had happened within only a few months of their wedding. It was no big deal, she told herself squarely and, casting the tablet aside, she went for a shower. Apollo had said he would try to be faithful but the very first time he had had to leave her behind he had found alternative entertainment of the sort he was most accustomed to enjoying. His behaviour sent a powerful message. Clearly, Pixie was no more important or special to him than any other woman he had slept with. How could she ever have thought otherwise?

And Izzy Jerome was a very beautiful girl with long corn-blonde hair and endless legs. She was also famous, a fairly recently discovered model/celebrity. Apollo’s type in every way. Well, she wasn’t about to make a giant scene over Izzy or do anything silly, Pixie warned herself severely. It was time to default to their original marriage setting in which they shared a business arrangement and nothing else. At least she could save face that way, she reasoned in despair, a sudden convulsive sob creeping up on her and squeezing her throat painfully tight.

But she wasn’t going to cry over Apollo, Pixie told herself angrily. He wasn’t worth her tears. He was selfish and shallow and his betrayal had literally been written in the stars because she had always been well aware that leopards didn’t change their spots. The phone was ringing again somewhere in the distance but she ignored it, sitting on the shower seat while the water beat down on her and washed away the shameful tears. A sob escaped her straining lungs and she clenched her teeth in frustration. There was no way she was prepared to greet Apollo with red-rimmed eyes that would tell him just how badly he had hurt her.

And willpower did finally triumph over the tears. She switched off the shower and stepped out to grab a towel but only minutes later found herself throwing up again. Utterly wretched, she curled up on the cold floor for several minutes with Hector nuzzling against her legs. She petted him with a shaking hand. She felt dizzy and sick and dreadful but she wasn’t about to show it. Apollo had done her a favour, she reasoned miserably. Her body was already changing. Her breasts had swelled, her waist had thickened and her tummy was no longer perfectly flat. Apollo would soon have lost interest in her anyway and it was better that it happened sooner rather than later.

After all, she had to learn to be independent again and stand on her own feet. Her baby would need her to be strong and brave. She had to cope and rise above the terrible hurt trying to overwhelm her common sense. He didn’t love her; he had never loved her. The only woman Apollo had ever loved had been the evil stepmother who used him when he was far too young and immature to protect himself and had destroyed his trust and his ability to love. Was it any wonder that he had never had a serious relationship with a woman since then?

Slowly, clumsily, Pixie got herself upright again and began to dry her hair. Apollo would be home in a couple of hours with the gynaecologist he was flying out from London with him and she refused to humiliate herself by behaving like an emotional wreck and letting him appreciate what a fool she had been where he was concerned. Her pride would never recover from such an exposure. And how could she have fallen madly in love with a male programmed from the outset to break her heart? How stupid was that?

And even worse she had that wretched party to get through. As if that was not enough Apollo had contrived to destroy Christmas for her as well for the two of them had been invited to celebrate Christmas with Vito and Holly in Tuscany. Of course she would cry off now. She had no plans to take the shine off the festivities by attending as a betrayed and broken-hearted wife, who had nowhere else to go over Christmas. Apollo would probably take Izzy Jerome with him instead. Of course, Izzy might not still be Apollo’s flavour of the month in three weeks’ time, she thought wretchedly. His interest in a woman rarely lasted that long.

Squeezing herself into a stretchy skirt, Pixie blinked back fresh tears. Why was she putting on weight so fast? According to what she had read she was supposed to be gaining weight very gradually, not piling it on as though she had been eating for an entire rugby team!

* * *

In London, Apollo paced beside his private jet while he spoke to Vito. Who could ever have guessed that marriage could be so stressful? His life pre-Pixie now seemed free as the air, a time of immaturity and egotism. Back then nothing had bothered him very much, not the scandals, not the grasping women, not even the horrendous rumours and gossip about his lifestyle. He hadn’t had to explain himself or defend his reputation to anyone because he truthfully hadn’t cared what anyone thought about him. It hadn’t mattered as long as he knew that he had done no wrong. But now he had Pixie and everything had changed out of all recognition. He had a wife who was pregnant and vulnerable and innately distrustful of him.

‘The way the paparazzi follow you around it was bound to happen,’ Vito contended. ‘And now that you’ve achieved your objectives and she’s pregnant…does it really matter?’

Pure rage slivered through Apollo. ‘If it hurts her, it matters,’ he breathed in a raw undertone. ‘Of course, it matters!’

‘You don’t sound quite as detached as you usually do,’ his friend commented.

‘Look, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,’ Apollo concluded, ending the call in sheer frustration.

Obviously, he wasn’t detached. He was in turmoil. He was thinking things he’d never thought. He was feeling things he had never allowed himself to feel and the result was a state of mind dangerously close to panic. He boarded the jet with the fancy gynaecologist and his small team, yet another source of worry to be dealt with. Dr Floros had suggested that he call in a consultant when Pixie’s blood tests had come back with an unexpectedly high count and the result had been forwarded to London. The scan would hopefully reveal whether or not there was any cause for concern. Apollo had persuaded the island doctor not to reveal that fact to Pixie in advance of the scan, lest it upset her, but he knew the older man was planning to share the result with her the following day.

When had his life become so impossibly complicated? An image of Pixie on their wedding day was superimposed over his troubled thoughts. But no, he reasoned, it had started even before then. From the very first day when she’d punched him Pixie had been different. She wasn’t impressed by him, she was never impressed by him…except occasionally in bed, he conceded abstractedly, a shadowy smile briefly relaxing the tense line of his sensual mouth.

Unlike other women, Pixie had only ever treated him as an equal. She judged him by the same rules she applied to everyone else. She didn’t make excuses for him or handle him with kid gloves. She didn’t believe that his vast wealth entitled him to special treatment. In fact she demanded more from him than any woman had ever demanded, only her currency of choice wasn’t cash or gifts. Apollo had learnt the hard way that cash or gifts were easy to give while everything else was a challenge demanding more than he was usually prepared to give.

During the flight random memories drifted through his mind. Pixie, grinning with triumph and punching the air after that insane dive she had made from the top deck of Circe. Pixie staring dreamily out to sea as the sun went down in splendour, saying, ‘You really don’t appreciate how lucky you are to see this every day.’ Pixie wandering round the picturesque narrow village streets on Nexos, admiring colourful flowerboxes, sleeping cats, starlit eyes wide with interest while she drank lemonade in the café overlooking the harbour and watched the fishermen bringing in their catch. She made everything fresh, Apollo acknowledged in growing bewilderment; she made him see things through less jaded eyes.

* * *

Pixie could feel her facial muscles lock as she descended the stairs to welcome the arrivals. She refused to look at Apollo but she was seethingly conscious of him standing back in a stylishly crumpled beige linen suit teamed with a white tee shirt. She showed the doctor, the technician and the nurse into the room where their equipment could be set up and Olympia brought a tray of tea and snacks out to the terrace for them.

‘Pixie…’ Apollo said then, having demonstrated unusual patience for such an impatient man. ‘Could I have a word?’

No, no way, she wanted to scream at him but she couldn’t let herself scream. There would be no discussion about Izzy Jerome or about the promise he had given about trying to stay faithful. What was done was done and there was really nothing more to say. All she had to do now was draw a line under their marriage as such and default to the useful guidelines printed in her pre-nuptial contract.

‘Your office,’ she suggested, stealing an involuntary glance at him.

He hadn’t shaved and he was still gorgeous. Dark stubble shadowed his strong jaw line and outlined his superbly kissable lips. His black hair was messy, his stunning green eyes glittering warily below his black velvet lashes. He was sexy as sin and a pang of wanton lust pierced her pelvis. Guilty colour washed her pallor away. He had cheated on her with a blonde beauty, so how could she still respond to him on a physical level? Self-loathing inflamed her while she picked her passage through the team of caterers fussing over the chairs that were being carried into the ballroom where the party would be held.

The mere prospect of the party made her grit her teeth. All those people would be attending primarily to see her in her role as the wife of Apollo Metraxis, people who would know he was already playing away with another woman, and yet Pixie would have to pretend that nothing was wrong because that was what she had agreed to do when she chose to marry him. Luckily pretending, however, would allow her to retain a certain dignity, she reminded herself doggedly.

Her visceral reaction was to scream, shout and claw at Apollo and from the curious glances he was angling at her she could see that a major scene was what he expected. But Pixie was determined not to lower herself to that level. Whatever else he was, Apollo was the father of her child and, whether she liked it or not, he would remain a feature of her life for many years in the future. She was determined not to embarrass herself in front of him by revealing that she had made the mistake of becoming emotionally involved.

‘I’m relieved that you’re giving us the chance to talk before Mr Rollins gives you the scan,’ Apollo murmured in an unusually quiet voice.

Was he ashamed? No, Apollo didn’t do shame or fidelity when it came to sex, she reasoned painfully. He was probably genuinely grateful that she wasn’t making a big scene.

Pixie stationed herself by the window that looked across the sloping gardens and over the top of the trees and out to sea. She steeled her spine. ‘I want us to separate—’

‘No,’ Apollo interrupted immediately.

‘It’s in the pre-nup agreement,’ Pixie reminded him. ‘Once I’m pregnant I can if I wish ask to live separately and I would like to return to the UK as soon as it can be arranged.’

Apollo was powerfully knocked off balance by that announcement. Yes, that was in the agreement because before he married her he had assumed that he would want his freedom back as soon as possible. Had ever a man been so bloody stupid and blind? he railed at himself in furious frustration. ‘That is exactly what I don’t want.’

Pixie rested icy grey eyes on his lean bronzed face. ‘I don’t care what you want.’

‘You’re not even giving me a chance to explain?’

‘No, that kind of discussion would challenge my ability to be civil to you,’ Pixie admitted hoarsely, because inside herself where it didn’t show she was breaking apart. She hated him and yet she still wanted to be near him. She loathed him for betraying her and yet her weak, wanton body still hummed in direct response to the insanely hot attraction he exuded. The very thought of not seeing Apollo again for months on end threatened to rip her into tiny pieces but she knew the difference between right and wrong and she knew what she had to do to restore the boundaries she needed to feel safe.

And she could never ever feel safe with an unfaithful man. It didn’t matter that it had only happened once, what mattered was that she had made the mistake of thinking of their marriage as a real marriage and now she was being destroyed because she loved him. But he hadn’t asked her for her love or her possessiveness and he had even warned her that fidelity would be a struggle for him. How far in those circumstances could she blame him for what he had done? She had fallen for him and that was her mistake, not his.

‘This is crazy…’ Apollo breathed with sudden rawness, big brown hands settling over her slight shoulders. ‘You won’t even look at me!’

‘I’m being polite.’

‘That isn’t you… I don’t know you like this!’ Apollo growled in frustration. ‘Shout at me, kick me…whatever!’

‘Why would I do that?’ Pixie forced a frozen little smile to her lips. ‘We’ve enjoyed a successful business arrangement. My brother is safe and learning how to live without gambling and I’m carrying a baby I want very much. Now you can return to the freewheeling life you prefer.’

Even though his temper was cruelly challenged by that speech, his big hands withdrew from her tense shoulders and dropped away to slowly ball into fists by his sides because he genuinely didn’t want to argue with her and upset her. ‘Mr Rollins should be ready for you now,’ he pronounced with savage quietness.

Pixie chewed at her full lower lip, blaming him for the fact that the scan she had been eager to have had now been horribly overshadowed by his betrayal and her heartbreak. But maybe seeing the shape of her baby on a screen would restore her and cure the agony clawing up inside her. It hurt so much not to have Apollo any more. It hurt not to be able to allow herself to touch him. But a kick, never mind a kiss, would have released the pent-up rage and hurt she was holding back.

She wanted to tell him that she had gone down to the animal rehabilitation centre on the outskirts of the village while he was away and had met the staff and occupants as well as spotting a little dog very similar to Hector. She had wanted to share that with Apollo but then she wanted to share everything with Apollo, had in fact got used to treating him like her best friend, and in the wake of his infidelity that was a really terrifying revelation. What had happened to her pride? But now she could feel the new distance forming inside her and she clung to that barrier in desperation.

Having set up the equipment, the nurse and the technician were ready to give Pixie her scan. She got up on the mobile examination table, rested her head back on the pillow and pushed down her skirt to expose her tummy while the consultant talked smoothly about what she could expect to see. He referred to her blood test, which surprised her. Clearly he had consulted the island doctor for that result and she wondered why.

The gel the technician put on her stomach was cool and she shivered, eyes flying wide when Apollo moved forward and closed a hand over her knotted fingers. The amazing racing sound of the baby’s heartbeat filled the silence and she smiled in sheer wonder. The wand moved and then the heartbeat surged again.

‘Two babies, Mrs Metraxis.’

‘Two?’ she echoed in astonishment.

‘Twins. I suspected a multiple pregnancy when I saw the results of your first blood test…’

Shocked, Pixie locked her eyes to the screen while the consultant outlined the shadowy forms of her children. Children, not one child as she had simply assumed. It was an enormous change to get her head around. She wondered if that explained the heavy nausea she was enduring and the physical changes that were already altering her body.

Apollo studied the screen in horror. Two of them? Two babies struggling to make space in Pixie’s tiny body? How could that be? That had to make everything more dangerous.

Pixie yanked her hand from Apollo’s because he was crushing her fingers. She glanced up at him, reading the raw tension etched in his hard features. He wasn’t pleased. But then why would he be? He had only needed one child and two would presumably be more hassle and expense. The nurse wiped off the gel and helped her back to her feet. She took a seat for yet another blood test and shut her eyes tight sooner than see the needle while Apollo took up position behind her and rested his hands down heavily on her shoulders.

She told the consultant about her frequent nausea. He explained that that could occur in a twin pregnancy and that it should settle down by the end of her first trimester, but that if it began to impact on her health she would need support. He mentioned that the twins each had their own placenta, which lessened the chance of complications. The information he gave her was very practical and Pixie was happy to thank him and leave while Apollo demonstrated a dismaying eagerness to stay behind and talk to the medical team.

Apollo’s blood had run cold throughout his entire body when the word ‘complications’ struck him like blow. He felt sick. Mr Rollins informed him unasked that sex was still perfectly fine. Ironically, Apollo had never felt less horny and he was suddenly feeling very guilty. If anything went wrong it would be his fault. He had planned this pregnancy, done everything possible to make it happen and now that he had he was discovering that he had hitched a ride on a rocket that he could no longer control. Not since his troubled childhood had he been made to feel so helpless. By the time the medical team departed on the helicopter to head back to the airport, Apollo was in a seriously sombre mood.

Pixie settled down happily with a pot of tea on the shaded terrace with Hector at her feet. Two babies, my goodness, weren’t they going to be a handful? She was in shock but, after hearing her babies’ heartbeats, she was excited and pleased as well. She sipped her tea and wondered if the twins would be identical or non-identical and whether they would be boys or girls or even one of each. It was a huge relief to have something other than Apollo to think about.

Apollo strode out onto the terrace and surveyed her. ‘I can’t let you leave me,’ he intoned grimly. ‘I have to be part of this. They are my children too. I need to be sure you’re healthy and looking after yourself.’

‘What about what I need?’ Pixie countered, eyes narrowing as she looked back at him because he was standing in sunlight, tall and bronzed and muscular as a god in stature and so beautiful he didn’t seem quite real to her.

‘You need my support.’

‘No, I don’t. I’ve been independent all my life,’ Pixie traded without hesitation.

Apollo leant back against the low wall separating the terrace from the garden and tossed a squeaky toy at Hector, who bounded after it with glee. ‘I don’t want you to be independent.’

‘Tough. We made a business arrangement,’ Pixie reminded him. ‘Getting pregnant is my get-out-of-jail-free card and I’m playing it.’

‘You’re being unreasonable.’

‘I love the island. I like my life here but this is your house, your island and I don’t want to live in your house on your island,’ Pixie explained without apology.

Apollo breathed in slow and deep and practised a patience that he was in no way accustomed to practising. ‘We’ll discuss it after the party tomorrow.’

Her life had fallen apart, Pixie thought, suddenly losing the high of finding out that she was carrying two babies. She was about to become a single mum, which most poignantly was something she had once sworn she would never be. But that was life, she told herself, knocking you back on your heels and changing things without warning. And she would be a liar if she argued that she couldn’t have foreseen the breakdown of their marriage. After all, that breakdown had been foreseen in the pre-nuptial agreement she had signed and all the conditions for that breakdown laid out in advance. She had read the terms and she had even read the small print. She knew that she had rights and that Apollo couldn’t ignore them.

Apollo crossed the tiles towards her and studied her with gorgeous glittering green eyes. ‘I don’t want this marriage to end. I don’t want a divorce,’ he declared. ‘I don’t want you to leave Nexos either.’

After a noisy pummelling session with his squeaky toy, Hector sneaked across the floor and hovered uneasily near Apollo’s feet before he gingerly dropped the toy there. Muttering something shaken in Greek, Apollo stilled and then he bent, scooped it up and threw it and Hector went careening after it. ‘He brought the toy to me. He finally brought it to me!’ he exclaimed in amazement.

‘I never said my dog had good taste,’ Pixie remarked, in no mood to be captivated.

* * *

The following morning, the day of the party, Pixie was following her usual routine of being horrendously sick when Apollo joined her in the bathroom. ‘Go away!’ she shrieked furiously.

‘No, this is my business,’ Apollo declared, crouching down to loop her hair out of the way and support her.

‘I hate you!’ Pixie snapped with pure venom because it was the last straw that he should witness her in such a state when all her defences were down, and there were many more such tart exchanges before her stomach settled again.

Having cleaned her up with unblemished cool, Apollo carried her back to bed. ‘Do you want me to cancel the party?’

‘You can’t. Half our guests are already on their way,’ she groaned. ‘I’ll be fine once Holly gets here.’

‘I haven’t had sex with anyone but you since we got married,’ Apollo announced just when she was least expecting any reference to that burning issue.

‘Don’t believe you,’ Pixie gasped, turning over on her side to avoid looking at him. ‘Nobody would believe you. I’m not stupid. It’s what you do, it’s who you are…you probably can’t even help it.’

‘It’s not who I am!’ Apollo bit out hotly from between clenched white teeth, his eyes emerald bright and accusing. ‘The least you can do is give me the chance to explain.’

Pixie closed her eyes tight and played dead. His sudden anger had unnerved her. She didn’t fear him but right then she didn’t feel equal to the challenge of such an emotive confrontation. In fact suddenly all she wanted was Holly’s reassuringly soothing presence. Tears stung her eyes behind the lowered lids.

‘Izzy is Jeremy Slater’s kid sister. Vito and I went to school with Jeremy. Although you haven’t met him yet, he’s a close friend. Izzy was at a dinner I attended. I’ve met her before and she asked me for a lift because she was visiting someone with an apartment in the same building as my London penthouse. I thought nothing of it,’ Apollo admitted grittily. ‘I wasn’t particularly surprised either when the paparazzi jumped out to photograph us when we arrived because Izzy’s every move is currently prime fodder for the tabloid newspapers.’

‘So, according to you, you simply gave her a lift,’ Pixie recited. ‘How does that explain her still being with you the next morning?’

‘She spent the night with whoever she was visiting. She phoned me first thing and asked me if I could drop her off on my way into the office. She was waiting for me in the lobby and we left the building together.’

‘When you were caught on camera again. Why didn’t your bodyguards intervene?’

‘Because I suspected that Izzy was using me to raise her own profile and, not having thought through the situation, I saw no harm in it and waved them back,’ Apollo ground out angrily.

His explanation covered the facts but his generosity towards Izzy Jerome’s craving for publicity when he himself loathed paparazzi attention infuriated her. Since when had Apollo not ‘thought through’ a situation? He must’ve realised how the press would present those photos, one taken the night before, the next early the next morning.

‘I’m sorry,’ she pronounced flatly. ‘I don’t believe you.’

The door thudded closed on his exit and only then did her tension ease a little yet she had never felt so empty. She had not realised that she could love anyone as much as she loved Apollo and she had not realised that losing someone could hurt so much that it hurt to breathe. And it was a lesson she truly wished she had not had to learn. She had lain awake a long time the night before. Apollo had presumably slept in another room and ironically his absence had distressed her as much as his presence would have done. It was as though she were being ripped slowly apart, divided between wanting him and not wanting him.

Vito and Holly arrived mid-afternoon. As soon as Pixie heard Holly’s bright voice echoing up from the hall she called down to her friend from the upper landing. Apollo and Vito looked up. Pixie reddened and waved to excuse herself for not having gone downstairs to welcome their guests.

‘I’m pregnant,’ she told Holly baldly. ‘And, yes, it was planned.’

‘Is that why Apollo is looking a little ragged round the edges?’

‘No… I think that was caused by the doctor telling us that we’re having twins.’

‘Twins?’ Holly squealed in excitement. ‘When are you due?’

As the friends shared due dates, because Holly was expecting her second child, they went downstairs by a service staircase and settled down with cool drinks in the orangery with its tall shady plants and softly playing indoor fountain.

‘Vito told me about the will and that you were planning to have a child with Apollo,’ Holly confided then.

Pixie sighed heavily.

‘And you broke the rules, didn’t you?’ Holly whispered, anxiously searching Pixie’s tense little face and shadowed eyes. ‘You went and fell madly in love with his fancy-ass yacht.’

Pixie didn’t trust herself to laugh or speak and she jerked her chin down in confirmation.

Holly groaned out loud.

‘I wanted a child and because I wasn’t very good at…er…dating I thought that Apollo could be my best chance of ever having one,’ Pixie admitted very quietly. ‘I should tell you now…we are separating after the party.’

‘Is it really that cut and dried? I mean, even Vito, who generally assumes the worst of Apollo when women are involved, thinks that there’s no way that Apollo would have slept with Izzy Jerome. She’s Jeremy’s kid sister and sisters are off-limits between friends. And Apollo has uninvited Izzy from your party,’ Holly completed with satisfaction.

‘Izzy Jerome was on the guest list?’ Pixie gasped in dismay.

‘She’s not any more,’ Holly emphasised. ‘I don’t think he is involved with her. She’s very young, you know, still a teenager.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ Pixie lifted her head high and sipped at her drink. ‘The best way forward for us now is for us to go our separate ways. That was planned from the start.’

Holly shook her head. ‘I can’t believe you signed up for that. I thought you hated him.’

Pixie said nothing because there was a sour taste in her mouth. Only days had passed since she had planned to tell her friend how very different Apollo was from his public image but recent events had proved her wrong in all her assumptions. In truth she supposed that she had stupidly idealised Apollo to justify the reality that she had fallen in love with him.

‘Let me see what you’re wearing tonight,’ Holly urged in a welcome change of subject.

Pixie took her up to the bedroom to show her the long scarlet dress in its garment bag. ‘Apollo had it designed and I don’t like it much…it’s a wee bit slutty, don’t you think? I have no idea what he’s wearing.’

Holly skimmed a thoughtful fingertip over the black corset lacing round the bust line. ‘Gangster’s moll?’

‘Well, at least there’s no fairy wings included,’ Pixie commented flatly. ‘But there is a very ornate piece of valuable jewellery which he brought back from London and he evidently expects me to wear it with the costume.’

Pixie opened the worn leather box on the dressing table and listened to Holly ooh and ah over the fabulously flamboyant ruby necklace and drop earrings. She turned her head and glanced back at the red dress again. There was something about it, something eerily familiar but she couldn’t pin down what it was.

Dressing for dinner, she donned the costume. She decided it was fortunate that pregnancy had swelled her boobs because the gathered, dipping neckline positively demanded a glimpse of bosom. She tightened the laces, noting with wry appreciation that she finally had the chest she had long dreamt of having. But like her marriage to Apollo, it was an illusion, she thought morosely, for when she had finally delivered her twins she would probably return to being pretty much flat-chested again.

Apollo strode in and she stopped dead to stare at him. He was tricked out like a pirate in tall black boots and fitted breeches with a white ruffled shirt and a sword. And being Apollo and fantastically handsome, he looked spectacular and electrifyingly sexy.

‘I gather that I’m a pirate’s lady,’ Pixie guessed.

‘A pirate’s treasure,’ Apollo quipped. ‘You’re not wearing the rubies.’

He extracted the necklace from the box and handed her the earrings. ‘This set belonged to my mother. It hasn’t been worn since she died. I had it cleaned and reset for you in London.’

The eye-catching rubies settled coolly against her skin and she slowly attached the earrings, watching them gleam with inner fire as they swung in the lamp light. ‘Thanks,’ she said stiltedly.

A very large dinner party awaited them on the ground floor. With surprising formality Apollo brought his relatives forward one by one to meet Pixie. There were innumerable aunties and uncles and cousins. She marvelled at his calm control under stress and his polished manners. He was essentially behaving like a proud new husband. Nobody could ever have guessed that that dream was already dead and buried. It had been a dream, she reminded herself doggedly, a dream that could never have become reality with Apollo Metraxis in a leading role.

In the ballroom she watched Apollo socialising and frowned. It wasn’t fair that she could barely drag her eyes off his tall, powerful physique; it wasn’t right or decent that she still felt his magnetic pull. And Apollo dressed up like a pirate was pure perfect fantasy. The arrogant tilt of his dark head, the breadth of his shoulders, his narrow waist and lean, tight hips, the long muscular line of his thighs in skin-tight pants. Her mouth ran dry watching him and her weakness filled her with self-loathing.

Apollo, meanwhile, was in a filthy mood. The planning had gone perfectly but the timing had gone seriously askew. He should have known better; he should have known not to waste his time trying to be something he was not. Since when had he been romantic? What did he even know about being romantic? And in any case, she hadn’t even noticed, which said all that needed to be said. He had taken the cover of her battered romantic paperback and had the outfits copied. Even the costume designer had gazed at him as though he were crazy and he felt like an idiot for going for the pirate theme. Even so, he wasn’t going down without a fight.

‘I’m no good at slow dances,’ Pixie protested when Apollo slowly raised her out of her seat and took her away from Holly, whom she had clung to throughout the evening.

‘So, stand on my feet,’ Apollo advised, wrapping her slender body into his arms with the kind of strength she couldn’t fight without making a scene.

Murderously conscious that their guests were watching them, Pixie pressed her face against his chest and breathed in deep. He smelled so good she wanted to bottle him. Her fingers spread across his powerful shoulders and she drifted in a world of inner pain, wavering wildly between hating and craving and loving. She had missed him so much when he was away from her in London and now she had a whole future of missing him ahead of her.

‘I won’t agree to a separation,’ Apollo breathed softly above her head.

‘I don’t need your agreement. I’ll just leave.’

He went rigid in her arms and missed a step. Pixie was fighting back tears, reminding herself that they were in the middle of a party, that they were the centre of attention as much because she was a new bride as because the bridegroom had been outed as a cheat little more than forty-eight hours previously.

‘I’ll buy you a house in London…but you stay safe here until I have that organised for you.’

‘I don’t need your help.’

‘I’ll call you when I’ve set up the house and you can fly out and give me your opinion.’

Pixie swallowed back a sudden inexplicable sob because, without warning, Apollo had stopped fighting her and had backed off. Instead of feeling relieved, she felt more lost and alone than ever. They really were splitting up. Their marriage was over.

* * *

The three weeks that followed were a walking blur for Pixie. Apollo had left Nexos as soon as the last of their guests had departed. He had not attempted to have another serious conversation with her. Those last words exchanged on the dance floor, with her ridiculous threat to just walk out, lingered with her. Yes, she could walk out, she conceded, but she couldn’t just walk away from her feelings, the painful feelings that accompanied her everywhere no matter where she was or what she was doing. She couldn’t stop thinking about Apollo or fighting off the suspicion that she had condemned him on the basis of his reputation rather than on the evidence.

So preoccupied was she that she barely noticed that her bouts of sickness were fading away. She had to move into maternity clothes rather sooner than she had hoped because most of her fashionable outfits were too fitted to cope with her swollen breasts and vanishing waistline. She purchased new clothes online, loose-cut separates picked for comfort rather than elegance. With Apollo absent she discovered that she didn’t care what she looked like. He phoned every week to civilly enquire after her health, and when he asked her if she could join him in London on a certain date her heart sank, because once he showed her the house he expected her to occupy she assumed that the dust would settle on their official separation. Evidently he had accepted that their relationship, their intimacy, was over now.

And wasn’t that what she had wanted? How could she move forward without putting their marriage behind her? Apollo had denied infidelity but he hadn’t put up much of a fight against her disbelief, had he? But like a sneaky snake in the grass in the back of her mind lurked the dangerous thought that she could, if she wanted, offer him a second chance. She was so ashamed of that indefensible thought that it woke her up at night in a cold sweat. She understood that her brain was struggling to find a solution to her unending grief and sense of deep loss and she knew that the forgiving approach worked for some couples but she knew it would never work for her. Nor would it work for a male like Apollo, who needed strong boundaries and punishing consequences because he wouldn’t respect anything else.

Pixie arrived back in London late afternoon in late December with Hector in tow. A limo met her at the airport and whisked her back to the penthouse apartment. Apollo was flying in from LA and had told her that he would not be arriving until shortly before their scheduled meeting. That was why it was a surprise for Pixie to be curled up on a sofa with her dog in front of the television and suddenly be told by Manfred that she had visitors. As she stood up Hector bolted for cover under a chair.

A tall man with prematurely greying dark hair walked in with an oddly self-conscious air but Pixie’s attention leapt straight off him towards the highly recognisable youthful blonde accompanying him.

‘I’m Jeremy Slater and I apologise for walking in on you like this but my sister has something she has to say to you,’ the man told her stiffly. ‘Izzy…you have the floor…’

The tall, slender blonde fixed strained blue eyes on Pixie and burst into immediate speech. ‘I’m really sorry for what I did. I set Apollo up as cover. I knew he was married but I didn’t think about that. I’m afraid I was only thinking about what suited me.’

Pixie was frowning in bewilderment. ‘You set Apollo up?’ she repeated blankly.

‘I knew that if I was spotted with Apollo, the paps would assume that we were together and that they wouldn’t look any more closely into who I was staying with in that building,’ she spelled out tautly.

‘What my sister isn’t saying,’ Jeremy interposed drily, ‘is that she has been involved with a famous actor, who keeps an apartment in Apollo’s building. As that man is married, both my sister and he wished to keep their relationship out of the public eye.’

‘I didn’t intend to cause anyone any trouble,’ Izzy said pleadingly.

‘But you weren’t too concerned when you did cause that trouble,’ Pixie pointed out, her stomach churning with shock. ‘I can see that I have your brother to thank for this explanation being made.’

‘I couldn’t stand back and let Apollo take the fall for something he didn’t do,’ Jeremy declared cheerfully. ‘He’s been guilty as charged so often and I’m certain that that means that he suffers in the credibility stakes.’

‘Yes,’ Pixie agreed, her face hot with shame because even she hadn’t really listened to Apollo when he’d said he was innocent.

She hadn’t asked the relevant questions and she hadn’t asked if he could prove his story. In fact she hadn’t given him a fair hearing in any way and in retrospect that acknowledgement humbled her. In common with any other bystander she had indeed assumed that he was guilty as charged, but she had had much less excuse than other people because she had lived with Apollo for months and knew that he was something more, something deeper than the heartless womaniser he appeared to be in public.

Jeremy and Izzy departed soon afterwards with Jeremy remarking that he hoped they would soon meet in more sociable circumstances. His sister, however, said nothing, probably guessing that Pixie never wanted to see her again if she could help it.

After that visit, Pixie went to bed but of course she couldn’t sleep. She had never trusted Apollo and had essentially regarded her distrust as a trait that strengthened her. Only now was she seeing the downside of that outlook. Looking for the worst and always expecting the worst from a man was not a healthy approach and it was unfair. Even worse, using distrust as a first line of defence had crucially blinded her to what was actually happening in their marriage. She should have recognised how far Apollo had already drifted from his original blueprint for a marriage that was a business arrangement. Time after time he had done things, said things that defied that blueprint and she had ignored that reality. After all, she had changed—why shouldn’t he have changed too?

* * *

The next morning it was a struggle for Pixie to eat any breakfast. She had forced a separation on Apollo and had voluntarily given him back his freedom. She had well and truly proved to be her own worst enemy. Pride and distrust had driven her into rejecting the man she loved. Could he forgive her for that? Could he forgive her for misjudging him?

Would her misjudgement and their marriage even matter to him now? After all, his inheritance would soon be fully his because by the time their children were born he would have met the exact terms of his father’s will. Nowhere in that will did it state that Apollo had to be still living with his wife.

A limousine collected her at half past nine, wafting her through streets soon to be thronged with Christmas shoppers. Shop windows were bright with decorations and sparkle. Pixie had dressed with care and not in one of her less than flattering maternity outfits. She had put on a green dress. True it was a little tight over her bust but it gave her a shape and her legs were the same as they had always been. In truth, she reflected unhappily as the car drew up outside a smart city town house in a tree-lined Georgian square with a private park, she would never be able to hold a candle to the likes of Izzy Jerome in looks. On board Circe, she had marvelled at Apollo’s insatiable hunger for her and revelled in it. Now, she had to ask herself if she had anything more substantial to offer a male of his sophistication…

Apollo opened the door of the house himself, which shook her because he almost always had staff around to take care of such tasks.

Pixie stepped over the threshold. She glanced up at him, encountering shimmering green eyes below lashes as rich and dark as black lace, and her heartbeat raced, butterflies unleashed to fly free in her stomach. ‘Apollo…’ she acknowledged jerkily.

She came to a halt to stare in wide-eyed amazement at the lavish Christmas tree in the hall and the glorious trails of holly festooning the hall fireplace and the stairs. ‘Oh, my goodness, this house…it’s all decorated for Christmas,’ she muttered inanely. ‘And it’s still furnished.’

‘Relax. The furniture and the decorations are mine. This house was rented out for years. My father owned it but he didn’t use it and it was too large for me to use while I was still single,’ Apollo told her, gently but firmly urging her down into the armchair set by the small crackling fire in the hearth. ‘Sit down and stop stressing.’

Pixie sat but she couldn’t stop stressing. Apollo was exquisitely well-dressed in a formal navy suit, cuff links glinting at the cuffs of a fine white shirt, and she remembered him dressed like a pirate and every skin cell leapt up in sensual recollection. ‘You want me to live in your father’s house? I thought I was supposed to live in a house you bought me?’

Apollo dealt her an impassive appraisal that told her nothing about his mood. ‘I understand that Jeremy called on you with Izzy last night,’ he remarked stiffly.

Pixie flinched and paled, unnerved by that reminder. Of course, it had been foolish of her not to appreciate that his friend would naturally have told him about that visit. ‘Yes, I’m so, so sorry. I misjudged you and refused to listen and there’s no excuse for that, is there?’

‘Perhaps there is,’ Apollo conceded, sharply disconcerting her with that measured response. ‘Maybe if I’d said more sooner, you would have wanted to listen to what I had to say.’

Sick with nerves, Pixie curled her hands tightly together. ‘I’m really sorry,’ she said shakily again. ‘I didn’t give you a chance.’

‘I have a bad reputation with women,’ Apollo allowed reflectively. ‘But in one sense it’s unjustified. I have always ended one relationship before I embark on another. I don’t do crossovers or betrayals. That’s a small point but that’s how I live. I don’t cheat on anyone.’

Her nails dug into her palms because she was so very tense and afraid of saying the wrong thing. She had said she was sorry but she didn’t want to keep on saying sorry and she didn’t want to crawl either. ‘I understand.’

‘We were talking about this house,’ Apollo reminded her, lounging elegantly back against the marble console table behind him.

‘Y-yes,’ she stammered.

‘I want you to live here with me. With twins on the horizon we definitely need a spacious family house.’

Her smooth brow indented as she struggled to understand. ‘Are you saying that you can forgive me for the way I behaved on Nexos?’

‘There are still things that you have to forgive me for,’ Apollo told her tautly. ‘When we first married I pretended that I was still holding your brother’s debt over you because I saw that debt as a guarantee that you would do as you were told.’

Her smooth brow furrowed. ‘You pretended? In what way?’

‘I paid off the debt in its entirety before our marriage. I didn’t want any further dealings with the thug your brother owed that money to,’ he admitted.

Pixie nodded understanding. ‘The carrot and the stick approach again…right? Well, you’re good at faking.’

‘Thank you,’ Apollo murmured wryly. ‘I should’ve been more honest with you though.’

‘We both hugged our secrets back then. It takes time to learn to trust someone.’

‘You’re the first woman I’ve ever trusted,’ Apollo admitted. ‘You know the worst of me. You’ve seen the bad stuff. Give me a chance to show you the good things I can do.’

Pixie unfroze and stared up at him. ‘You are willing to forgive me for misjudging you,’ she suddenly appreciated in wonderment.

His smile slanted into a heart-stopping grin. ‘As I can’t live without you I don’t think I have much choice about that.’

‘You can’t live,’ she began incredulously, ‘without me?’

‘I’ve got remarkably used to having you and Hector around,’ Apollo told her almost flippantly.

‘H-have you?’ Pixie mumbled uncertainly.

‘Even though trying to plant an idea in your head is sometimes like drilling through concrete.’

‘What idea were you trying to plant?’

‘That we could be happy together and stay together and married for ever.’

‘You don’t do for ever,’ Pixie argued, her voice taking on a shrill edge of disbelief.

‘But then I met you and ever since then everything I thought I knew has been proven wrong,’ Apollo admitted gravely. ‘That unnerved me…but there it is. You’ve turned my life upside down and, strangest of all, I’ve discovered that I like it this way.’

Pixie’s mouth had run dry. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

Apollo reached down a lean brown hand towards hers and in a sudden movement she grasped it. He tugged her upright. ‘I want to show you something and ask you a special question.’

Blinking rapidly, her heart hammering inside her chest, Pixie let him urge her upstairs. He pushed open the door on a bedroom but her attention leapt straight to the garment hanging in front of a wardrobe. ‘What’s that?’ she gasped, for it looked remarkably like a white wedding dress.

Apollo dropped fluidly down on one knee while she stared at him as if he had lost his wits, her grey eyes huge and questioning. ‘Pixie…will you marry me?’

‘Wh-what?’ she stuttered shakily.

‘I’m trying to do it right this time. I love you,’ Apollo breathed huskily. ‘Will you marry me?’

‘But we’re already married,’ she whispered in a small voice. ‘You…love…me?’

‘Much more than I ever thought I could love anyone.’

And the power in Pixie’s legs just went and she dropped down on her knees in front of him. ‘You mean it…you’re not just saying it?’

Apollo flipped open the small jewellery box in his hand and extracted a ruby ring. ‘And this is the ruby ring I intended to give you before the fancy dress party but sadly it would have been the wrong time.’

Pixie watched in reverence as he eased the glorious ring onto her wedding finger. ‘Is this an engagement ring?’ she whispered.

With an impatient groan, Apollo leapt back upright and bent to scoop Pixie up and plant her at the foot of the bed. ‘Yes, it is, and we need to start moving quickly. That is if you’re willing to stay married to me?’

‘Yes, I am… I’m kind of…’ Pixie hesitated and then lifted her bemused head high to look up at him ‘…attached to you, so attached I can’t bear having you out of my sight and the last few weeks have been sheer hell,’ she admitted feelingly. ‘I don’t know when it happened because I started out convinced I hated you and somewhere along the way I fell madly in love with you.’

Sheer relief rippled through Apollo’s lean, powerful frame. ‘Thee mou…you made me wait for that, you little witch. Would you like me to help you put on your wedding gown?’

Another wave of bewilderment rocked Pixie. ‘Why would I put on a wedding gown?’

‘Because your very romantic husband wants to take you to a church to renew our vows…and this time, we’ll mean every word and every promise, koukla mou. I wanted to see you in a white dress.’

Pixie felt as though her brain had gone on holiday. She was poleaxed by that information.

Apollo lifted her off the bed and unzipped her dress, pushing it off her shoulders until it slid down her arms and dropped to the rug. ‘I like the lingerie,’ he growled soft and low.

‘We’re going to renew our vows? You’ve actually arranged that?’ she exclaimed as her brain absorbed that incredible concept. ‘Oh, I like that. I like that idea very much…’

‘And then we’re going to fly out to Tuscany to spend Christmas with Vito and Holly.’

All of a sudden, Pixie became a ball of energy. She whirled away from him, a slender vision in white lace underpinnings, and yanked the wedding dress off the wardrobe at speed. ‘I hope it fits.’

‘I told the designer you were pregnant and she made allowances.’

Pixie wrenched off the bag and dived into the wedding gown as if her life depended on it and indeed at that moment it felt as if her life did depend on it. Apollo was making all her dreams come true at once. He was trying to rewrite their history and she adored him for that piece of unashamed sentimentality. He was, after all, offering her the white wedding dress and the church she had once dreamt of. He loved her. Could she truly believe that? The ruby sparkled enticingly on her finger and she heaved a happy sigh. When Apollo began organising church blessings and getting down on bended knee to propose, it was time to take him very seriously indeed, she thought happily.

It was an exquisitely delicate and elegant lace dress and Apollo was fantastic at doing up hooks. Dainty pearlised shoes completed the ensemble and she dug her feet into them with a sigh. ‘You’ve thought of everything.’

‘I had to organise it all in advance even though I was scared you would say no. My first romantic scenario fell very flat,’ Apollo pointed out in his own defence. ‘Your bouquet is downstairs.’

‘What first romantic scenario?’ she prompted with a frown.

‘The one where I had the cover of your bodice-ripping paperback copied for our fancy dress costumes,’ Apollo extended. ‘The one where I dressed up as a stupid pirate and you were supposed to recognise the outfits from the book cover.’

Pixie gasped and her grey eyes widened to their fullest extent. She recalled that sense of familiarity when she had seen the red dress he had had designed for her and she grinned. ‘It was the first romance I ever read. I bought it at a church jumble sale…but when I got older, I didn’t think it was realistic to believe I could ever meet a man as swoonworthy as the hero…and here you are, Apollo Metraxis, and you’re hotter than the fires of hell!’

‘Even so, you didn’t notice,’ he reminded her doggedly.

‘I definitely noticed how sexy you looked,’ she confided, her cheeks turning pink, and her heart literally sang at the image of Apollo going to so much trouble in an effort to be romantic and please her. ‘Breeches and knee boots are a great look on you, so maybe you’ll put that on again for me some day and I faithfully promise to demonstrate my appreciation. That night, I’m afraid I was too locked into the hurt of the Izzy business to notice. I’m sorry.’

‘And I’m sorry you were hurt,’ Apollo confided tenderly as he urged her back down the stairs, grabbed the bridal bouquet out of another room and planted it into her hands. ‘Let’s get to the church, Mrs Metraxis…’

And the little ceremony was glorious and everything Pixie could have dreamt of it being. She could see the love in Apollo’s brilliant green eyes and when he actually paused afterwards on the church steps and posed with his arm round her for the paparazzi, he smiled with even greater brilliance and a level of happiness he had never known before.

‘What time are Vito and Holly expecting us?’ Pixie whispered as they climbed into the waiting car.

‘My social secretary rang them to let them know we wouldn’t be arriving until later,’ Apollo revealed. ‘I don’t want to share you just yet. I want a few hours to privately appreciate my very beautiful, pregnant-with-twins wife.’

‘And how do you feel about the babies?’

‘Over the moon now that we’ll be in London with the best possible medical care on the doorstep,’ Apollo told her, drawing her close, the heat of his big frame sending a little pulse of fiery awareness through her. ‘I was worrying far too much and your consultant reassured me. You’ll be in the best possible hands for the duration of your pregnancy.’

‘Your hands,’ Pixie muttered, pressing his palm against her cheek in a loving gesture. ‘You’ll look after me… I know you will.’

‘You’re my whole world and our children are part of us both. I can’t believe I ever thought I’d be able to walk away and take a back seat in their lives.’

‘Well, you won’t be walking away any place now,’ Pixie said cheerfully, resting shining eyes on him. ‘I love you, Apollo, and there’s no escape.’

‘And you’re the love I didn’t believe existed as well as the most amazing woman I’ve ever met,’ he growled, claiming her parted lips with his in a long, deep, hungry kiss of possession that thrilled her right down to her toes. ‘Where else will I find a woman insane enough to dive off the top of my yacht? And expect me to be pleased? Or threaten me with a miniature Arab Prince as a rival?’