She Can't Say No to the Greek Tycoon

Right now patience was a virtue he was struggling to achieve. He said, as evenly as he could, ‘It’s time for lunch. Bring the folder. We’ll look at the plans in detail together.’

Misery engulfing her, Maddie swung her sandalled feet to the ground, gathering the folder of sketches and colour swatches that had earlier so delighted her.

He had sounded so flat. He was going away from her, distancing himself. Deep in the stark reminder of his lost true love?

Telling herself that she was going to have to live with the knowledge that she was second best, pretend she didn’t know that savagely cutting fact for the sake of their long-term future, waiting for the gift she so longed for—the precious gift of his eventual love—she walked to where he was waiting for her.

Maddie jolted awake, naked beneath the thin cotton sheet. The house was silent as evening approached. Dimitri was no doubt still in his study, concentrating on the raft of paperwork that needed his attention—a fact he’d imparted when after lunch she’d pleaded a sudden and very real weariness and come up to their room to rest.

She had slept the whole afternoon away. Was sleep an escape mechanism? she pondered wryly, remembering how she been itching to get away from the lunch table. Away from the atmosphere.

Dimitri had been distant, as if he were lost in thought, and his aunt censorious when she, Maddie, had made the first approach of conciliation after their run-in earlier, determined not to act like a wimp and let herself be walked all over.

Passing the folder over to the old lady, she’d found a smile. ‘These are the designs for the new nursery. What do you think? We’d value your opinion.’

Ignoring the folder—and the tentative peace offering—Alexandra had replied repressively, ‘One doesn’t read at meal-times. Besides, my opinion is unnecessary. My nephew wouldn’t dream of using a designer who did not cater to his impeccable taste.’

Another put-down.

Maddie had left the room, left them to it, the atmosphere brittle.

Swinging her feet to the floor now, she noted that her slight headache had been joined by a dull ache in the small of her back. She ignored both and headed for the en suite bathroom and a quick shower. She would freshen up, find something pretty to wear from the lavish wardrobe Dimitri had provided after that party of unfond memory when she’d first come to Athens as his bride.

She would find Dimitri and sparkle. Coax him out of that distant mood—if he was still in it! She had recently discovered that he liked her chatter. That, according to him, she could charm the birds from the trees with it!

Did Irini babble on about this, that and everything else? Or were their private conversations more serious, more intense, centring on their love for each other? The possibility of their marrying was now never to happen, because Dimitri had gritted his teeth and settled for second best for the sake of the family he was creating, his belated sense of honour making him discard their original plans.

And because the sex was good. More than good. Though he wouldn’t confide that slice of information to Irini!

Furious with herself for her unacceptable bout of morbid introspection, she dragged the door of the hanging cupboard open and pulled out the first garment her hand encountered. A silk shift, the colour of cornflowers. Dimitri had said it matched the colour of her eyes.

Surely he was beginning to love her just a little? Or at the least feel fondness?

It wasn’t too much to hope for, was it? Because it certainly felt that way. As if he meant to play a full and dedicated part in their marriage’s fresh start.

As if he was now putting her needs and happiness first, relegating Irini and his love for her to the past. So, okay, he had gone all quiet and distant on her when what she’d said had forcibly reminded him of the love he had put away from him. That was to be expected. It was early days yet,

and he was to be excused because he had done the right thing, decided to make their marriage work for the sake of their coming child. Talked of their having more children in the years to come.

Promising herself that she had to believe that, she brushed her hair until it fell in soft, silky curls and tendrils around her face, applied the minimum of makeup, and set out to run him to earth.

But he seemed to be missing. The house was silent, the atmosphere heavy, as if a storm were about to break. Maddie felt perspiration on her upper lip, between her breasts. The aggravating dull ache in the small of her back seemed to be getting more intense. She must have slept in a awkward position. Strained a muscle.

When Dimitri turned up she would suggest they eat out tonight—anything to get away, to be alone with him, out of reach of the woman who always made her feel so worthless.

Yet …

Running away from a problem wasn’t her style. Or it had never used to be. Only since coming here as Dimitri’s bride. Irini’s poisonous revelations, the way his aunt lost no opportunity to drum the fact of her nephew’s enormous wealth and high social standing down her throat, contrasting it with her own lowly status, the fact that she wasn’t fit to touch the ground he walked on, had turned her into a cringing wimp!

Time to sort it out! Ignoring a sudden gripping sensation in her pelvis, she headed over the main hall, making for the door that led to Alexandra’s quarters. She was determined to tell the old lady that the put-downs had to stop, to suggest they try to be friends. And if she couldn’t manage that, then politeness and respect would do.

Her legs felt unaccountably heavy, slowing her progress, but through the open main door she glimpsed Dimitri, jeans and T-shirt-clad, approaching along the wide driveway. He must have been for one of the long walks he was so fond of.

About to put a spurt on, let herself into his aunt’s quarters before he reached the house, because for the sake of family peace the conversation she was intent on having had to be completely private, she frowned in annoyance as the telephone on a rosewood hall table shrilled out imperatively.

She couldn’t simply ignore it, she decided frustratedly. But there would be other opportunities to confront the old lady, she told herself as she lifted the receiver and gave her name.

‘Oh—it’s you! I need to speak to Dimitri. Now! Fetch him!’