The Greek Tycoon's Pregnant Wife Read online

Page 5


  Olga had been of a like mind. Knowing nothing of Demetri’s visit to Jane’s apartment, she naturally believed that, if Jane was pregnant, Alex Hunter was to blame. The young accountant, who worked for the firm who audited Olga’s books, thankfully knew nothing of her suspicions, and like Olga he’d been totally against this trip.

  ‘It seems funny to me that just weeks after informing you that he wants a divorce, he suggests you go out there to see his father!’ he’d exclaimed when Jane phoned to explain why she wouldn’t be able to see him for a few days. ‘Do you trust him? Are you sure this isn’t just a ploy to get you back?’

  ‘Oh, please!’ At the end of an exhausting day Jane had found it hard to keep her patience. She’d already had a similar discussion with Olga, who wasn’t at all pleased that her assistant was taking a week’s unplanned-for leave. ‘Demetri wants a divorce. I’ve told you that. But—well, his father is very ill. He says he wants to see me.’

  ‘He says.’ Alex had pounced on the word. ‘So you’ve only his say-so that Leonides Souvakis is ill?’

  ‘Demetri wouldn’t lie about something like that,’ Jane had replied firmly, wondering why she felt so sure about it when Demetri had lied to her before. ‘Besides which, he’s already got a girlfriend. A Greek girl. He intends to marry her as soon as he’s free.’

  ‘I see.’

  Alex had been somewhat mollified by her answer, but Jane had wondered if Olga might not be right in thinking he had more than a platonic friendship in mind. A friend wouldn’t have interrogated her, wouldn’t have behaved as if he had some right to question her movements. And when he’d asked how long she planned to stay in Greece, she’d been deliberately vague.

  Now, stepping onto Greek soil again, she wondered if she had been wise in coming here. How was she going to feel, seeing Demetri again and knowing she was carrying his baby? For whatever he’d said, she was fairly sure she would see him. It would be totally out of character for him to neglect his parents just because he thought she’d prefer him to stay away.

  Jane only had one bag, a bulky haversack that she could loop over her shoulder, but she was still one of the last to step ashore. There was no sign of Demetri, but she couldn’t help feeling wary. She knew it was twenty minutes’ drive from the small port to the Souvakis estate and she didn’t remember ever seeing a taxi. Or needing one, she reflected, remembering the sleek little sports car Demetri had given her to get about the island.

  She was hovering beside the pile of produce that was being unloaded from the ferry when she saw a woman watching her. She didn’t think she’d seen her before, yet there was something vaguely familiar about her. Of medium height, with strong, exotic features, she was typical of many Greek women Jane had seen in the past. But her clothes and the way she held herself set her apart and Jane felt her heartbeat quicken when she started towards her.

  ‘Are you Jane?’ she asked, her accent making the words difficult to understand. Or perhaps it was the almost scornful way she spoke Jane’s name that made the difference. And the fact that, although they were strangers, she hadn’t used her surname.

  And, because Jane was feeling tired and not altogether friendly, she replied, ‘That’s right. Have you been sent to meet me?’

  The woman surveyed her thoroughly before responding and Jane was instantly conscious that the short-sleeved T-shirt, cropped linen trousers and canvas boots she’d worn to travel in suffered by comparison to a silk vest, a flaring peasant-style skirt and high heels. ‘I have come to meet you,’ the woman corrected her. ‘Kiria Souvakis thought it would be a good idea for us to get to know one another, neh? I am Ariadne Pavlos. Demetri and I are to be married when he is free of his marriage to you.’

  Jane was taken aback, although she had to admit it was typical of Demetri’s mother to pull a stunt like this. Sending Demetri’s—what?—his new girlfriend…his future fiancée? His lover to meet her was a little brutal even for Maria. She wondered if Demetri knew of it. She supposed he had to. Little went on here without his being aware of it.

  ‘How nice,’ she said now, refusing to let Ariadne see that she’d disturbed her. She glanced about her. ‘Do you have a car?’

  ‘Veveha.’ Of course. Ariadne had clearly not expected Jane to take it so calmly. ‘It is over here. If you’ll come?’

  The car was painfully familiar. Ariadne was driving the dark red sports car Demetri had bought for her. Maria’s doing again, Jane guessed, though Ariadne had to have gone along with it. She couldn’t decide whether Demetri’s mother was calculating or merely apprehensive.

  Thankfully, the heat of the day was abating. It was late afternoon, and the island was bathed in a warm golden light. Summer came early to the Aegean, and, although much of the island was composed of rock and scrubland, here on the coastal plain flowers bloomed in ripe profusion.

  Dumping her haversack into the back of the small car, Jane slid into the passenger seat beside Ariadne. ‘Endaxi,’ the other woman declared tersely. OK. ‘Pameh!’ Let’s go.

  If she thought Jane might not understand her, she was mistaken. Despite the fact that she’d only lived on Kalithi for a little over two years, Jane had managed to acquire a reasonable grasp of the language. She’d had to, to run her small gallery. And Demetri had liked her to speak to him in his own language, particularly when they were making love…

  The memory was disturbing, particularly as she was sitting beside the girl who would soon be Demetri’s wife. Unable to prevent herself, she ran a nervous hand over the slight swell of her stomach. Common sense told her she would have to tell Demetri about the baby. But the last thing she needed was for him to think she wanted him back.

  ‘You are staying how long?’

  Ariadne’s question interrupted the uneasy direction of her thoughts, which was probably just as well, she told herself severely. She wasn’t here because Demetri had invited her. It was his father who wanted to see her.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she answered now, although she’d already booked her return flight for the end of the week. Her eyes drifted over the headland and the rugged cliffs that descended to the blue-green waters that lapped the shoreline. It was all so beautiful. She’d forgotten exactly how beautiful it was. ‘How is Leo? Demetri said he was feeling a little better.’

  Ariadne took her eyes off the winding road to glance at her. ‘Kirieh Souvakis is—well,’ she replied after a moment, ‘a little—confused, isos. We have been very worried about him.’

  ‘I’m sure.’ Jane tried to feel sympathetic towards her. But she had the feeling Ariadne was more concerned about her being here than she was about Demetri’s father. There was a certain lack of emotion in her words.

  ‘Veveha, he is most anxious to see Demetri happy at last,’ Ariadne continued, apparently unaware of speaking out of turn. Or, more likely, she didn’t care what Jane thought of her. ‘It is not good for a man to be without a wife and family.’

  Jane’s lips compressed. ‘Demetri has a wife,’ she couldn’t resist saying, and Ariadne gave her another knowing look.

  ‘Not for much longer, sostos?’ she murmured silkily. ‘Demetri tells me you are not going to make any trouble about the divorce.’

  ‘Does he?’ Jane was tempted to say he should have thought of that before he’d gone to bed with her, but it wasn’t in her nature to be deliberately cruel. ‘No, well, he’s probably right.’

  ‘Probably?’ Ariadne latched on to the word.

  Jane turned her head towards the ocean again. ‘Where is Demetri? Back at the house?’

  There was a petulant silence and then Ariadne said, with evident reluctance, ‘He’s away. On business. He won’t be back until the end of the week.’

  Jane felt a pain twist inside her. But it wasn’t a physical thing, merely an acknowledgement that, despite the fact that Demetri was doing as he’d said, she was devastated by the news. So, it looked as if she wasn’t going to see him, after all. That should make her decision easier.

  Or not.

/>   ‘You were expecting to see him, were you not?’

  Ariadne couldn’t leave it alone, and Jane had to bite her tongue on the bitter response she could have given. ‘You couldn’t be more wrong,’ she said, silencing the voice inside her that told quite a different story. ‘Oh, we’re almost there.’

  It was all too painfully familiar. The wooden gates at the foot of the drive, the winding track, edged with trees that provided a perfect screen for the house. And then the villa itself, white-painted and expansive, black shutters open, orange tiles reflecting the late-afternoon sun.

  Jane caught her breath. She couldn’t help it, but she quickly disguised it beneath a sudden clearing of her throat. Just because she was assailed by memories was no reason to feel nostalgic. She’d left the island of her own accord, almost destroyed by her husband’s deceit.

  Ariadne brought the car to a halt and Jane thrust open her door and got out before the girl could say anything else. She hadn’t asked to come here and she had no intention of mitigating Ariadne’s fears. If she had doubts about Demetri, let her deal with them. Jane just wanted to do what was necessary and leave. Whatever ‘necessary’ was.

  A manservant appeared as Jane was reaching for her haversack, and she was quite willing to hand over the task to him. All the same, now that she was here, she was uncomfortably aware of the absurdity of her position, and she hoped she would be shown to her room and given time to compose herself before meeting Demetri’s parents again.

  ‘Apo etho ineh, kiria,’ the man said after he had hefted her bag onto his shoulder. ‘Parakalo, akolootha meh.’

  Jane glanced round at Ariadne, who was now standing beside the car, and the girl arched an aristocratic brow. ‘He’s waiting to show you to your room,’ she said, and Jane nodded rather irritably.

  ‘I do understand a little Greek,’ she said. Then, curbing her frustration, ‘Thank you for meeting me, Ariadne. I expect I’ll see you later.’

  Ariadne’s lips tightened. ‘Sigoora, thespinis,’ she responded shortly. Certainly. ‘Kiria Souvakis has invited me to stay for a few days. She thought it might be—easier—that way.’

  Easier for whom? wondered Jane ruefully as she followed the man across the paved courtyard and up shallow steps to a dappled terrace. Scarlet fuchsias and blue and white lobelia spilled from stone planters set at intervals along the shaded terrace, the roofline concealed by a tumbling mass of flowering vines.

  Doors stood wide to a marble-floored entrance hall which in turn opened into a magnificent reception area. The airy feel of the place was accentuated by huge ceiling fans that wafted cool air into all the adjoining apartments, the concept of closing doors not much in evidence here.

  The man indicated that Jane should follow him across the shining tiles, past a shimmering fountain whose rim was adorned with frolicking sculptures of the gods that had once ruled these islands. A wide open-tread staircase wound to the upper floor and as she climbed Jane admired the many delicate bowls of lilies that occupied every vacant surface, their vivid colours more exotic than she’d ever seen at home.

  Jane knew, from when she had used to live on the island, that the villa consisted of this two-storied central building with single-storied wings stretching out at either side. When she and Demetri had stayed here, they’d occupied a suite of rooms at the end of one of the ground-floor wings, but evidently she was to be accommodated elsewhere now.

  Looking down on the scene below her, Jane was struck by the feeling of isolation she felt. Only the household staff were about, and, although she’d been hoping to escape to her room without seeing Demetri’s mother, now she felt oddly insulted that none of the family was there to welcome her.

  But that was probably Maria’s intention, she reflected, refusing to let the other woman’s attitude affect her own. Perhaps it was an attempt to show her how out-of-place she had always been here among people to whom luxury was a way of life.

  Even so, the stunning beauty of high-ceilinged rooms opening one from another, of silk-clad walls and sumptuous leathers, of the staff going about on silent feet, was impressive. The Souvakis family was fabulously wealthy, after all. Which had made her relationship with Demetri so unlikely and ultimately so destructive.

  A galleried landing gave access to her apartments. The room the manservant gestured for her to enter was both luxurious and comfortable. An elegant sitting room opened into a large bedroom, with glass doors giving access to a balcony from both apartments.

  While the man carried her haversack inside, Jane moved across to the windows. One of the long windows was slightly ajar and she could hear the faint murmur of the sea. Below, the glassy waters of the swimming pool gleamed in the afternoon sun. But beyond the gardens, tumbling dunes gave way to a white sand shoreline, the blue-green waters of the Aegean sparkling with dazzling light.

  ‘Soo aresi afto, thespinis?’

  The man was asking if she liked the room and Jane turned to smile at him.

  ‘Very much,’ she said, in his own language. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Efkharistisi mou.’ My pleasure. He smiled warmly, and then wished her a pleasant stay before letting himself out of the room.

  Jane followed him to the outer door and, when it was closed behind him, she rested back against it. She felt so tired suddenly, but she knew it was a psychological weariness as much as a physical one. She ran an exploring hand across her stomach again. Dear God, it was going to be harder than she’d imagined. She hadn’t been looking forward to dealing with Demetri’s mother, but she’d never dreamt she might have to contend with his future fiancée as well.

  She knew she ought to unpack her few belongings, but it was too much trouble right now. Leaving the door, she kicked off her boots and, walking into the bedroom, dropped down on the bed. It was a huge bed, at least six feet across and half that again in length. But it was soft and springy and very comfortable and, flopping back against the silk coverlet, she closed her eyes.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE sound of someone tapping at the door awakened her.

  Jane opened her eyes and for a few moments she hadn’t the first idea where she was. But then the sight of billowing sheers at the windows reminded her of her arrival. The windows had been slightly ajar, she remembered, and the sultry murmur of the sea was in her ears.

  She sat up abruptly, and then grabbed the edge of the mattress as the room spun around her. Nausea gripped her, but happily it was short-lived. She’d just got up too quickly, that was all, she assured herself. She’d obviously been deeply asleep.

  ‘Thespinis! Boro na bo?’

  Whoever it was was calling her now, and Jane slid reluctantly off the bed and went to the door. She hoped it wasn’t Maria. She didn’t feel up to coping with her mother-in-law in crumpled trousers and a damp T-shirt. She must have been sweating while she slept and now she felt hot and sticky and totally unprepared for company.

  To her relief, when she opened the door, she found one of the maids waiting outside. She was carrying a tray containing a jug of iced fruit juice and a glass, and Jane realised she was very thirsty indeed.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, taking the tray, but, although she expected the girl to go, she evidently had something more to add.

  ‘Kirieh Souvakis asks if you will join the family for an aperitif before supper, thespinis?’ she requested in her own language. ‘Would seven-thirty be all right?’

  Jane, who had already placed the tray on the nearby table and was presently pouring herself a glass of the chilled juice, turned to blink rapidly. Then, after taking a gulp of the delicious liquid, she glanced at her watch. It was almost seven o’clock and she stared at the watch disbelievingly. She must have slept for over two hours. How rude they must think her. She hadn’t even bothered to pay her respects to Demetri’s father.

  ‘Um—yes. That’s fine,’ she said, and then, realising the girl couldn’t understand her, she amended it to, ‘Neh. Ineh mia khara. Efkharisto.’

  ‘I will tell Kirieh Sou
vakis, thespinis,’ she said, once more speaking in her own language, and Jane gave her a grateful smile before closing the door.

  But once the door was closed, Jane didn’t waste any more time savouring the fruit juice. Carrying the glass into the bathroom with her—which wasn’t a recommended option, but she was still thirsty—she turned on the shower. Then, despite the urge to explore all the many bottles and jars that occupied the glass shelf above the basin, she stripped off her shirt, trousers and underwear and stepped beneath the cooling spray.

  Half an hour later, she viewed her appearance in the long mirrors of the armoire. The emerald-green slip dress had thankfully taken little harm from being packed in the haversack and her high-heeled strappy sandals were a gift she’d brought herself back from her trip to Thailand.

  Her legs were bare, as, too, was her complexion. Her skin was still lightly tinged with colour from her previous trip to the sun. Just mascara and eyeliner and a smear of amber lipstick was necessary, she decided. It wasn’t as if anyone was going to care what she looked like. Except, perhaps, Demetri’s father.

  Her hair was still damp, but, combed and looped behind her ears, it didn’t look out of place. The dampness gave it an unexpected streak of darker colour.

  Well, she was ready, she thought, deciding against carrying a bag. Opening the outer door, she stepped out onto the landing, taking a determined gulp of air before walking towards the stairs.

  It was nearly dark and the area below was lit with dozens of bulbs in ceiling sconces. Shining uplighters, standing in alcoves, shadowed delicate sculptures in gold. Even the fountain fell into a floodlit basin, bathing the hall in a magical light. Still, this was what you could do when money was no object, she mused, admiring it all with her connoisseur’s eye, but not with any feeling of envy.

  A maid was standing at the foot of the stairs, waiting to escort her to her hosts. She was young and her eyes moved surreptitiously over Jane’s appearance, making her wonder, not for the first time, whether it was possible for anyone to suspect her secret. But no. The girl was just curious. And who could blame her?

 

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