For a few moments the women hugged but didn’t speak and Lexi was glad because the lump in her throat would have made speech impossible. Because it had been Phyllida who had been with her in London the night Lexi had started to bleed. Phyllida who had rung for the doctor and accompanied Lexi to hospital when the pain had got so bad and nobody could get hold of Xenon.
Lexi felt the memories come flooding back. There had been no one else she had trusted enough to ask at the time. Her first miscarriage had been so early—at eight weeks it had been more like a very heavy though heartbreaking period. But the second time had been different.
All her hopes and dreams had been focused on the life growing inside her and when that first low cramping pain had caught her by surprise, she had been so scared. She hadn’t been able to believe it was happening all over again—especially because she’d passed the ‘danger’ period of twelve weeks. But it had been happening and there wasn’t a thing she could do to stop it. It had been the Greek housekeeper who had kept a silent vigil throughout the day and into the next day, until at long last Xenon had arrived back from his trip to the Far East. He had walked into her private room at the hospital and Lexi had seen the empty look in his eyes when she told him that the baby had died. And she had known that nothing was ever going to be the same again.
She drew back from the housekeeper’s embrace and took a moment to compose herself. ‘Oh, Phyllida,’ she said. ‘I can’t tell you how good it is to see you again.’
‘Kyrios Alexi.’ Clearly emotional herself, Phyllida touched Lexi’s hair. ‘You have changed.’
‘No longer the crazy redhead? I know. While you look exactly the same. You look fantastic.’
‘No. I am too fat.’ Phyllida laughed as she patted her ample stomach. ‘Not like you.’
Xenon glanced across at the main house. ‘Is my mother around?’ he asked.
‘She went to visit your sister. She said that you should settle in and she will see you at dinner.’
Xenon’s voice dropped. ‘And my grandmother?’
Phyllida shook her head, her face growing grave. ‘She is weak, but she is comfortable,’ she said. ‘The nurse is with her now and she is looking forward to seeing her grandson again. Now. Shall I make fresh lemonade for you and Kyrios Alexi after your long journey?’
‘Efharisto,’ said Xenon, his hand moving to brush the base of Lexi’s spine. ‘Come on, Lex. Let’s go and unpack.’
It was the briefest of touches but it started a whisper of reaction flaring over her skin and Lexi could feel her heart pounding as she followed him towards the furthest of the three villas, with its prime position overlooking the bay.
Their cases had been deposited inside the house and left on the ghostly surface of the marble floor—standing side by side as if in silent mockery. The white walls and dark wooden furniture were just as she remembered and Phyllida must have put that vase of white roses on one of the low tables.
The door of the villa closed behind them and Lexi was left with a feeling of panic. She thought of the bedroom next door and unwanted memories came crowding back. The smell of sex and the rumpled sheets. The closeness of Xenon’s hard body.
She licked her tongue over impossibly dry lips before she spoke.
‘Xenon, this is crazy. There’s no way we can stay here.’
‘Why not?’
‘You know very well why not. You’re not a stupid man, although at times you can be a very stubborn one.’ She steeled herself against the soft light of battle on his face. Don’t make me spell it out, her eyes pleaded silently. But his blue gaze remained obdurate and she glared at him. ‘There’s only one bed,’ she said.
‘And? Isn’t the whole point that we’re here as a married couple—and married couples share beds? What did you think would happen, Lex? That I would stay in the main house, knowing that you were closeted in here all on your own?’
‘You could do what any other man would do under the circumstances—and offer to sleep on the sofa!’
He shot a disparaging look at the piece of furniture she was indicating. ‘On that? Come on—that was never designed to be slept on. A Greek husband sleeps in the marital bed.’ His blue eyes gleamed with a mixture of mockery and promise. ‘With his wife.’
Lexi hated the way her body responded to the unashamedly sexual look which accompanied his macho boast. It was easy to tell herself she shouldn’t want him but much harder to ignore the way he was making her feel. When his gaze raked over her like that, she could feel the answering clamour of her body. The ache of her breasts and the insistent heat coiling low inside her. Because she still desired him as intensely as she had ever done—and she didn’t have a clue how to deal with it.