She Can't Say No to the Greek Tycoon

Eventually she opened the door and walked in. The bathroom was empty.

Again she felt that heavy, plunging sensation in her stomach.

Not foreboding. Just a need for food. She’d have it as soon as Costas returned. He’d probably gone onto the balcony for some fresh air.

Sophie crossed to the bedroom window and opened the curtain enough to see the large balcony. It was empty too. She repressed a frown. He’d gone downstairs to get some food for them. That was all.

She swung away and turned towards the bed. And stopped.

On the floor beside where she’d lain was a neat pile of clothes.

Slowly she paced towards it, recognising a T-shirt and a pair of jeans that had just been washed—they’d only been put in her wardrobe yesterday. Undies, bra, even a pair of flat-heeled sandals and her hairbrush.

Suddenly Sophie found herself sitting in a club chair near the bed. These weren’t the clothes she’d worn yesterday. Costas had dressed, gone to her room and found something for her to wear then left the bundle by the bed. All without bothering to wake her.

What sort of message was that?

Blankly she stared, trying to work out what had happened. Trying so hard not to jump to conclusions. She wasn’t well-acquainted with the rules for dealing with the morning after.

But then she hadn’t thought of this as a morning after. She’d been so sure it was a new beginning. Not an ending.

She sucked in a breath, holding her palm against her ribs where a stitch caught her. A dull ache started up somewhere deep inside.

Eventually she moved. Took her time showering, dressing, brushing out her knotted hair. All the while waiting for the sound of a door slamming open, the quick, decisive stride she’d come to know so well. The deep, sensuous voice that had urged her to ecstasy.

Costas’ room remained stubbornly empty. As was hers. As was the whole upper floor.

He’s gone to the hospital, she told herself. That must be it.

Anxiety bloomed in the pit of her stomach. Had Eleni taken a turn for the worse? Was there a crisis?

She shook her head, striving to control her breathing. No. If it was serious Costas would have told her, or left word. She knew he would have.

So why hadn’t he woken her? Told her he had to leave? Or even scribbled a note? Why leave her to wake alone and wondering?

She frowned as she stared at her watch. It wasn’t breakfast she’d missed. It was lunch too. She’d been so exhausted she’d slept more solidly than she had in weeks.

Which meant Costas had probably been gone for hours.

By the time she descended to the ground floor Sophie felt unseasonably chilled, as if the cold had gone bone-deep despite the bright sunshine outside.

No one in the dining room, or the sitting room, or—

‘Kalimera, the spinis.’

Sophie swung round to see the housekeeper emerge from the servants’ quarters.

‘Kalimera sas,’ she responded, her smile shaky.

‘You have slept well, yes? Would you like some food?’

‘I’ll wait, thanks,’ she said. ‘Kyrie Palamidis and I had some things to discuss. I’ll wait and eat with him.’

The housekeeper tilted her head, her expression puzzled.

‘But the kyrios left the house hours ago,’ she explained. ‘He visited the hospital first. Then he rang to say he’d decided to take some business meetings. He won’t be back until this evening. You take a seat and I’ll bring you a nice meal, in just a few minutes.’ She smiled and nodded and turned back the way she’d come.

Which was just as well. Otherwise she’d have known something was terribly wrong when Sophie stumbled blindly to a hard-backed chair and collapsed onto it.