The Secret Beneath the Veil

“Mikolas, I’m sorry,” Viveka said in a voice that flaked like dry paint.

She was aware of his head swinging around but couldn’t look at him.

“You know I only had Trina’s interest at heart when I came to Greece, but it was inconsiderate to you. I didn’t appreciate the situation I was putting you in with Grigor—”

“That’s enough, Viveka.”

She jolted, stung by the graveled tone. It made the blood congeal in her veins and she hunched deeper into her seat, turning her gaze to the window.

“That was my fault.” Self-recrimination gave his voice a bitter edge. “We signed papers for the merger today. I made sure he knew why I was squeezing him out. He tried to cheat me.”

It was her turn to swing a surprised look at him. He looked like he was barely holding himself in check.

“I wouldn’t have discovered it until after I was married to Trina, but your interference gave me a chance to review everything. I wound up getting a lot of concessions beyond our original deal. Things were quite ugly by the end. He was already blaming you so I told him I’d started an investigation. I should have expected something like this. I owe you the apology.”

She didn’t know what to say.

“You helped me by stopping the wedding. Thank you. I hope to hell the investigation puts him in jail,” he added tightly.

He was staring at her intently, nostrils flared.

Her mouth trembled. She felt awkward and shy and tried to cover it with a lame attempt at levity. “Between Grigor and Hildy, I’ve spent most of my life being told I was an albatross of one kind or another. It’s refreshing to hear I’ve had a positive effect for once. I thought for sure you were going to yell at me...” Her voice broke.

She sniffed and tried to catch a tear with a trembling hand before it ruined her makeup.

He swore and before she realized what he was doing, he had her in his lap.

“Did he hurt you? Let me see your arm where he grabbed you,” he demanded, his touch incredibly gentle as he lightly explored.

“Don’t be sweet to me right now, Mikolas. I’ll fall apart.”

“You prefer the goon from the lobby?” he growled, making a semihysterical laugh bubble up.

“You’re not a goon,” she protested, but obeyed the hard arms that closed around her and cuddled into him, numb fingers stealing under the edge of his jacket to warm against his steady heartbeat.

He ran soothing hands over her and let out a breath, tension easing from both of them in small increments.

She was still feeling shaky when they reached the Makricosta Olympus.

“I hate these things,” he muttered as he escorted her to the brightly decorated ballroom. “We should have stayed in.”

Too late to leave. People were noting their entrance.

“Do you mind if I...?” she asked as she spotted the ladies’ room off to the right. She could only imagine how she looked.

A muscle pulsed in his jaw, like he didn’t want her out of his sight, but after one dismayed heartbeat he said, “I’ll be at the bar.”

Reeling under an onslaught of gratitude and confusion and yearning, she hurried to the powder room and moved directly to the mirror to check her makeup. She felt like a disaster, but had only a couple of smudges to dab away.

“Synchórisi,” the woman next to her said, gaze down as she fiddled with the straps on her shimmery black dress. Releasing a distinctly British curse she said, “My Greek is nonexistent. Is there any chance you speak English?”

Viveka straightened from the mirror, taking a breath to gather her composure. “I do.”

“Oh, you’re upset.” The woman was a delicate blonde and her smile turned concerned. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“No, I’m fine,” she dismissed with a wobbly smile. The woman was doing her a favor, not letting her dwell on all the mixed emotions coursing through her. “Not the bad kind of crying.”

“Oh, did he do something nice?” she asked with a pleased grin. “Because husbands really ought to, now and again.”

“He’s not my husband, but...” Viveka thought of Mikolas saving her and thanking her for the wedding debacle. Her heart wobbled again and she had to swallow back a fresh rush of emotion. “He did.”