Penniless and Purchased

‘And you wanted me to marry you because I was rich?’

Her lips pressed together.

Against her persistent silence he continued, inexorable. ‘But why would my wealth attract you? Your father was already wealthy. So why did you want me to marry you?’ His interrogation was remorseless, pitiless.

She would not answer. What use was the truth now, when her lack of faith in him, her lack of trust, had ruined her life?

‘You didn’t want to marry me for money—there was another reason, wasn’t there? Wasn’t there, Sophie? A reason I could see shining from your beautiful eyes every time I looked at you! A reason I could taste in the sweetness of your lips every time I kissed you! A reason that was in every touch, every caress, every trembling cry that came from you as I made you mine that night! A reason that my hurt and anger has blinded me to! But it was there all along! And it was there that night at Belledon, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it, Sophie?’ He paused, his vehemence stilled.

But still she would not speak. Could not speak.

‘You were in love with me,’ he said.

The words hung on the air.

Then, slowly, very slowly, she whispered, her voice as faint as air, ‘Yes.’

Hot, salty tears oozed in her eyes. She turned away blindly, seeking the handle of the door. Her vision blurred as she fumbled for the catch.

Nikos’s arms closed around her.

‘Sophie! Dear God, Sophie—don’t go! Why are you trying to go? Trying to leave?’

His arms were folding her back against him, clasping her to him, close against him, so close…

He turned her around in his arms, the emotion in his eyes pouring over her.

‘If I had known—if I had only known fou

r years ago that you loved me!’ His voice was choked. ‘But I thought you only wanted me for my wealth, because your father’s wealth was threatened! That you only wanted me to save him—!’

He broke off. She was gazing at him, her eyes anguished. ‘But I did want you to save him! I did! What you threw at me was true! I can’t excuse what I did!’

His eyes were still pouring into hers, full and lambent.

‘But I can excuse it, Sophie.’ He drew breath, and she felt his warm palms pressing on her shoulders, steadying her, supporting her, though she felt she must collapse. ‘I can excuse it. You had only just found out that the father you adored was on the brink of ruin! And you thought that I was leaving you. That I didn’t love you as you loved me.’ His face twisted. ‘I should have told you—told you what I felt about you! If I had only told you!’

He took a shuddering breath. But he had never told her, had let her fear that she meant nothing to him, and she had been desperate to discover if her fears were false.

‘It was fear that made you do what you did,’ he said sombrely. ‘I could have assuaged those fears with a single word—and by doing so learned then what it has now taken me four long, bitter years to learn. I would have given the world to know it then! That you’d loved me all along.’ There was pain in his voice, and accusation too—against himself. ‘But instead I lashed out at you—and threw you to the waiting wolves. Oh God.’ His voice wrung her heart. ‘When I think of what you have endured these four years! You were so young when I knew you first! Your father kept you so protected from the world! Oh, it was part of your charm, part of your innocence, but it made you so vulnerable to the harsh realities of life!’

His voice changed, becoming stark. ‘And now I have learnt just what you had to cope with, what you had to endure, the strength and fortitude and courage you had to find, the nightmare you have lived year after year, blow after blow, with everything taken from you—the support of your stricken father, your absolute devotion to him to be where you are now! Oh, Sophie, it twists like a knife in me!’ His face was sombre, gaunt. ‘You were protected and cosseted once, kept so by a doting father. But you’re not that girl any longer—you’ve proved yourself beyond all endurance by your courage, your love, your devotion to your father!’

His voice changed again. ‘And I hope I am not the man I was until so short a time ago. You’ve humbled me, Sophie, by what you have endured. I made assumptions about you that were as false as any lie.’ He took a heavy, razoring breath. ‘I wish with all my heart you had told me straight away, that night I dragged you into the taxi when you’d escaped from that louse Cosmo! But why should you have turned to me for help when I thought so ill of you?’

His hands tightened around her.

‘But I thank God for that taxi-ride! Thank God that I tracked you down. Followed you to Belledon. Because now I know the truth about you! That you felt for me then, four long years ago, what I felt for you.’ His voice caught at her. ‘What I feel now, Sophie, my dearest one.’ His expression softened. ‘As you do too.’

He paused, and now his palms lifted from her shoulders and his fingers cupped her face again, sliding with gentle tenderness into the tendrils of her hair. He was so close to her, so close, and she felt faintness drumming in her, beating up into her tightening lungs.

‘Love,’ he told her.

His eyes were rich, full with emotion, and she felt the faintness beating more and yet more, so that she could scarcely breathe with it.

‘Love always.’ He gazed down into her eyes, his own ablaze with a fire that would never now be quenched. ‘My love, my life—my Sophie. Always my Sophie, from this time on. As I am yours—for all time.’

His kiss was as tender as his gaze, the touch of his lips on hers adoring.