The Santorini Marriage Bargain

Then the tea arrived, and Rhianne rejoined him. After she’d drunk two cups she looked a little perkier. The colour returned to her cheeks, and she even managed a faint smile. It was a lovely smile. It made her whole face lighten and brighten and she looked even more beautiful.

Zarek had had his fill of beautiful women, but Rhianne was—well, she was Rhianne. A good-looking woman with no interest in him whatsoever—which made a change—and a heap of trouble sitting heavily on her slender shoulders.

They drank even more tea, and finally he suggested that he take her home.

The shadows returned to her eyes. ‘I can’t go back there.’ And they filled with tears.

Immediately, without even thinking what he was doing, or that his actions could be misinterpreted, he knelt down and pulled her against him. Rhianne buried her head in his shoulder and stayed there for several long seconds while he inhaled the freshness of her shampoo and felt her hair’s thickness between his fingers as he cradled her head.

Whew! He didn’t like this, not one little bit. He didn’t like the feelings that were beginning to throb within him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was being a good Samaritan here; sensations like this weren’t allowed.

Gently he put her from him. ‘Feeling better?’

She nodded, and he reached out a handkerchief, handing it to her so that she could pat her tear-stained face. ‘Care to tell me what’s troubling you?’

‘It’s private.’

‘And I’m a stranger you’re hardly likely to see again. You know what they say about a trouble shared. You never know, you might feel better. I promise not to tell anyone.’

Rhianne found herself giving an involuntary smile. Actually, she didn’t feel like smiling, so why it happened she didn’t know. Except that this man seemed to understand her needs. It was true, she wouldn’t see him again after today. They were passing strangers—even though he had invited her into his house, and she had shared tea with him and buried her head into his shoulder when she had begun to cry.

But to tell him such personal things!

All of a sudden she wanted to. She was filled to bursting with unhappiness, and sharing it with a stranger wouldn’t be as difficult as telling her mother for instance. Or a friend. They would ask questions. They knew Angus. They knew she had been planning to marry him. This man would listen and console.

‘I don’t know where to begin,’ she said at length.

‘The beginning’s always a good place,’ he responded, but she remained silent for so long that he leaned forward and took her hands into his. ‘Is it a man who has done this to you?’ He asked the question quietly and patiently, not wanting to stir up too much anguish unless she was prepared to confide.

Rhianne nodded, and suddenly tears began to slide down her cheeks, gathering momentum until they were chasing each other in an incessant flow.

Zarek hated to see women cry; it made him uncomfortable; he never knew exactly how to treat them. Though, in all honesty, the women who had cried in front of him had done it for effect. Rhianne was different. She couldn’t stop herself. Some man had hurt her like crazy, and she was beside herself with anguish. No wonder she had walked out in front of his car.

Silently he passed her his handkerchief and watched as she dried her tears. He had a strong urge to gather her in his arms and hold her until her sobs subsided. It was an urge he found hard to resist but somehow he managed it. He could imagine her reaction had he given in. She would hate a complete stranger holding and comforting her. Especially a man. She’d quite possibly slap his face.

She needed her mother. Mothers always knew what to say in these situations. He wondered where she lived, whether he ought to suggest he take her there. Even as he thought this, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath and, without looking at him, staring at the carpet instead, she said shakily, ‘I lost my job this morning. The company has been taken over and half the workforce has been given their cards. I was secretary to the general manager but it made no difference. I was asked to clear my desk and go, just like that.’

‘I see,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s not a practice I condone, but unfortunately it does happen. Where does your boyfriend fit into this?’

Rhianne shuddered, and once more he wanted to comfort her, but again he knew that it would be overstepping the mark.

‘I went home. I was angry and upset. I’d lost a job I love. And what did I find? My boyfriend—the man I was going to marry—making love to my best friend.’ And once more she burst into tears.

CHAPTER TWO

ZAREK couldn’t stop himself. Rhianne’s disclosure had disturbed him, and he took her into his arms and held her close, so close that he felt her heart beating rapidly against his chest, felt the sobs racking her body.

What sort of a man would do such a thing? Not a true and faithful friend. Not a man who loved Rhianne as much as she evidently loved him.

It was none of his business; he’d only just met her and ought not to feel anything, but because he had been instrumental in the accident he felt somehow involved.

‘The man’s a swine,’ he declared fiercely. ‘How could he do this to you? He doesn’t deserve your tears. He should be strung up to the highest tree. What did you say to him when you found him in such a predicament?’

‘I said nothing,’ admitted Rhianne, her mouth twisting into a wry grimace. ‘I ran away. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I felt sick. I just turned around and ran—and why am I telling you this? It’s my problem, not yours. I’m sorry, I should be going.’ She twisted out of his arms, feeling stupid now for having confessed. And he must think she was stupid for running away instead of facing up to Angus. The truth was she had been so deeply and utterly shocked, so overwhelmingly angry, that words could never have justified her feelings.

‘You’re going nowhere,’ he declared, folding his arms across his chest, his eyes suddenly fierce. ‘You’re in serious shock, and I don’t blame you. What you need to do is devise a plan of action.’

‘Action?’ queried Rhianne. ‘What I’d like to do is march back there and strangle them both with my bare hands.’

‘That is good.’

Rhianne dragged her brows together. ‘Good? How can wanting to kill someone be good?’

‘I mean anger is good. You need to get it out of your system. You need to release it and let it go. Take your anger out on me if you like. Then, when you are calmer, go back and confront these two people who have turned your life upside down.’

‘That’s easier said than done.’ Rhianne’s eyes flared a vivid blue, locking with Zarek’s steady brown ones, seeing there an understanding that she would never have expected from a stranger. It was hard to believe that she was here in this grand apartment with a man she had met under exceptional circumstances, talking about her private life. She dropped on to her chair.

‘May I be permitted to say that your friend cannot be much of a friend if she steals your future husband from you,’ he pointed out, sitting again himself, but on the edge of his seat this time, his elbows resting on his knees, his body leaning towards her. ‘Was this the first time, do you think? Or are you perhaps wondering how long it has been going on?’

Rhianne’s thoughts hadn’t even got this far. All she’d been able to think about was the fact that she’d caught them making love on the living room floor, such mad passionate love that for a few seconds they had not even been aware of her presence, not until she had cried out in anguish.

Then Angus had jumped to his feet, his face a picture of guilt and regret. ‘This isn’t what you think,’ he had said, snatching up his shirt and holding it in front of him.

Rhianne hadn’t deigned to answer. How could it be anything different when she had seen it with her own eyes? She hadn’t even looked at her flatmate, aware only that Annie had held a shocked hand over her mouth. She had spun on her heel instead and raced from the building, feeling sick with anger and disgust, knowing that the vivid picture of their naked bodies locked together would haunt her for a long time to come.

‘I don’t know and I don’t really care,’ declared Rhianne vehemently. ‘All I know is that I don’t want to see either of them again.’ She was still finding it hard to believe that they had both let her down. Her best friend and the man she was going to marry. She put her hand to her mouth and raced for the bathroom again.

Rhianne waited until she had composed herself before rejoining Zarek. In her absence he had ordered a carafe of iced water and, as he filled two glasses, the sound of ice cubes clinking together sounded loud in the room. Rhianne concentrated on the sound, allowing it to take over, to shut out all other thoughts.

Taking her elbow, Zarek led her outside to an enormous terrace with magnificent views over the Thames and the far reaches of London. It was filled with potted palms and flowering shrubs, populated at this moment by brightly coloured butterflies. A haven of peace in the middle of an insane world, thought Rhianne as Zarek urged her in to a padded chair before sitting down himself.

‘Are you feeling better?’ He was worried about her; she looked desperately pale, still beautiful but with no colour in her skin. It gave her a kind of ethereal beauty, and this woman who had erupted so suddenly into his life intrigued him.

She was such a strikingly good-looking woman that it was difficult to believe that her boyfriend would turn to someone else. If she were his, he would never want to let her out of his sight. Already he felt a strong urge to hold her and kiss her, reassure her that everything would be all right, at the same time taking pleasure in the feel of those full breasts pressing against his chest, her hips against his hips, thighs against thighs.

The thought caused a tightening of his muscles. The worst part was that he wanted to take her to bed, to make her forget everything that had happened. And yet it was this very thing, this act of greedy self-indulgence, that had sent her running.

Disgusted by his thoughts, Zarek busied himself refilling Rhianne’s glass. She hadn’t answered his question, so he asked her again, ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Like hell, if you must know,’ she declared fiercely, her hands clenching and unclenching on the arms of her chair. ‘We’ve known each other for two years; we’re in the middle of arranging our marriage. And now he does this. I hate him. And I hate my friend for being a part of it. I never want to see either of them again.’

‘But don’t you live with her?’ he asked carefully.

‘Not any more.’ Her eyes flashed angrily and beautifully. ‘I’m going to fetch my stuff and move out.’

‘Where will you go?’ Zarek suddenly realised that he didn’t want to let her out of his life. He wanted to help her. It was ridiculous when he didn’t know the first thing about her, but fate had brought them together, and he wanted to find out more: what made her tick, what she did for a living, about her family, her mother, her father, brothers and sisters—everything, in fact. ‘There’s room here.’

He tacked those last words on and then wished he hadn’t when Rhianne’s eyes opened wide with horror. ‘Move in with you—a complete stranger? The man who nearly killed me. Are you insane?’