Powerful Greek, Unworldly Wife

Leandro waited while the thick dark brew filled the small cup. Then he walked across to the table. ‘Right, let’s talk.’ He put the cup on the table and sprawled in the nearest chair. The edges of his torn dress shirt slid apart, revealing his flat, bronzed abdomen.

Millie kept her eyes fixed straight ahead. ‘What is there to talk about?’

‘This is going to be a tiring conversation for you if you stand all the way through it. And you already look ready to drop.’

She sat, too emotionally wrung out to think for herself. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You look wrecked. You should have told me you were coming. I would have sent my private jet.’

‘I wouldn’t have felt comfortable.’

‘You’re still my wife. You’re entitled to the perks of the job.’

‘I don’t want anything from you.’ Millie sat very upright. ‘Except maybe the stuff you’ve bought for the baby. It’s a waste to buy a second pram and things. Tomorrow I’ll remove Costas from your life. You can get back to your BlackBerry and your—’ She almost said ‘actress’ but thought better of it. ‘And your undisturbed nights.’ From the corner of her eye she saw his fingers close round his coffee cup.

‘I don’t want to talk about Costas.’ He let that hover in the air while he drank his coffee. ‘I want to talk about us.’

Her heart started to thump faster because she could feel him watching her and his scrutiny made her squirm. ‘How is that relevant?’

‘It’s relevant.’

‘How? There is no “us”. There’s nothing to talk about.’ Why would he want to go back over old ground? Millie wasn’t sure she could stand reliving the whole thing again.

‘You made promises, Millie. You stood up in that little village church and made those vows.’ Leandro put his cup down slowly. ‘And then you just walked away. For richer for poorer, in sickness and in health—remember that?’

Her chin lifted. ‘Forsaking all others…’

‘I might have known you’d throw that one at me.’ He inhaled deeply, his eyes holding hers. ‘You asked me how it’s relevant—let me tell you. You’re my wife, Millie. And to a Greek man, marriage is binding. It isn’t something you opt in and out of depending on the mood. It’s forever.’

‘Leandro—’

‘You chose to come back, Millie.’ His mouth tightened and his eyes glinted hard and dangerous. ‘And now you’re going to stay.’

CHAPTER THREE

MILLIE sat in frozen silence, so stunned by his unexpected declaration that she could barely breathe, let alone speak. It took several uncomfortable moments for the full implications of his words to sink into her shocked brain.

Then she sprang to her feet and paced to the far side of the kitchen, so agitated that it was impossible to stay still. ‘You expect me to come back to you? You’re blaming me for walking away?’

‘Yes.’ His tone was hard. ‘I am.’

Millie stared at the row of shiny saucepans on the wall. ‘The fact that you won’t let me take the baby tells me only one thing.’

Leandro gave a humourless laugh. ‘I always insist that my employees are capable of thinking laterally. For some reason I didn’t apply the same standards to my wife. Take a word of advice from me—when you study a picture, there is almost always more going on than first meets the eye.’

‘I can see only one reason why you’d be so protective of this baby.’

‘Then remind me not to set you up in business. Tunnel vision is a guaranteed path to failure.’ He was a tough adversary—intelligent, articulate and able to counter every word spoken with the effortless ease of a practised negotiator. ‘Did you really think I’d let you walk out with him? A baby is a massive responsibility, requiring the ultimate commitment. Given your track record, I’m hardly likely to hand him over.’

‘My track record?’

‘When you met an obstacle in life, you walked away.’

His accusation was so unfair that her breath hitched. ‘You were with my sister. What did you expect? My blessing?’

‘You are my wife. I expected your trust.’ He was on his feet, too. And determined to halt her retreat. ‘Answer me a question.’ His handsome face taut and grim, he closed his hands over her shoulders. ‘After everything we shared—after those vows you made—why were you so quick to believe the worst of me? You stalked out that night and you never contacted me again. You didn’t ask me about it.’

Her eyes level with his bare chest, Millie’s heart was pounding uncomfortably. ‘I saw what I saw.’

‘You saw what your sister wanted you to see.’

‘I know that some of the blame lay with her, but—’

‘Not some of it,’ his tone was harsh, ‘all of it. She set you up, Millie, and you believed all the lies she fed you. And I was so angry that you believed her, I let you go. And that was a mistake, I admit that. One of many I’ve made where you’re concerned. I should have run after you, pinned you to our bed and made you see the truth.’

‘Don’t do this!’ Millie covered her ears with her hands. ‘Why are you doing this now when it’s all too late?’

‘Because this is a conversation we need to have. What about those feelings you claimed you had for me, Millie? Or was it all a damn lie because you wanted the lifestyle?’

She almost laughed at that. The lifestyle had been the problem, but he’d never understand that, would he? ‘I didn’t care about the lifestyle.’

‘Really? For a woman who didn’t care, you certainly spent enough time on your appearance.’

It was such an unexpected interpretation of the facts that for a moment Millie just gaped at him. He had no idea. ‘What you said just now,’ she croaked, ‘about a picture sometimes having another meaning—’

‘Shopping is shopping.’ There was an acid bite to his tone. ‘It’s hard to find another meaning for that. Unless you convinced yourself that it was an act of charity to prop up the world economy single-handed.’

Millie was so shocked and stung by that all she managed by way of response was a little shake of her head. ‘I was trying to be the woman you wanted me to be.’

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

Wasn’t it obvious? She was standing in front of him in her oldest jeans with bubbling hair and no make-up. The shiny surface of his large American fridge reflected her deficiencies back at her. Even in the kitchen there was no escape. ‘I’m not your type. We met and married in less than a month. It was just too quick. We didn’t know each other. It was a mistake.’

‘Which part, exactly, was the mistake?’ He made a rough sound in his throat and stepped towards her, trapping her against the wall with the sheer force of his presence. ‘The part when you lay underneath me, sobbing my name?’

She felt the hard muscle of his thighs against her. ‘Leandro—’

He slid his hand into her hair, tilting her face so that she was forced to look at him. ‘Or the part when you came again and again without any break in between—was that when you thought, This is a mistake?’

‘Don’t do this—please don’t do this.’ Millie pushed at his chest and immediately regretted it because her hands encountered sleek muscle and it took every fibre of her being not to slide her greedy fingers over the deliciously masculine contours of his chest.

‘When you fell asleep with your head on my shoulder, were you dreaming of mistakes?’

He’d conjured up one of her most precious memories and she closed her eyes against the tears and felt them scald the backs of her eyelids. The sex had always been incredible but also a little bit overwhelming because she could never quite let go of the thought that a man like him couldn’t possibly want a girl like her. But in those moments afterwards—those moments when he’d held her and murmured soft words against her hair—that had been her favourite time. The time she’d actually let herself believe that the fairy-tale might be happening.

‘When you told me that you loved me, Millie…’ His voice was hoarse and his fingers tightened in her hair. ‘Were you thinking that it was a mistake? Was it all a lie?’

‘No.’