The Maid's Best Kept Secret (The Marchetti Dynasty 1)

She bit her lip and pulled something out of her back pocket. An envelope.

Nikos looked at it suspiciously. ‘What is it?’

She pushed it towards him. ‘A present.’

Nikos shook his head. He wanted to push it back. ‘You don’t have to give me anything.’

No one had ever given him anything.

‘Please.’

Nikos took it reluctantly and opened it. It was a card with a nice bucolic scene.

Maggie said, ‘It reminded me of the garden at Kildare House.’

Nikos opened it. Inside there was some kind of a printout. He picked it out and read it and his chest felt tight again. It was a voucher for a personal tour of the Colosseum.

Maggie said quickly, ‘We can do it the next time we’re in Rome—or, you know, whenever...’

Nikos saw a message on the card.

Happy Birthday, Nikos

Maggie and Daniel

XX

He put the card and the voucher down. He felt light-headed after revealing more than he’d ever revealed to anyone.

‘You’re sweet, Maggie. Too sweet for me.’

I can’t have sweet things.

She shook her head. ‘I’m not too sweet—I’m just not as hardened and cynical as everyone else you know. I’m normal, Nikos. Most people out there are like me.’

No, she was more than that. Most people weren’t as sweet as her. She was unique, and Nikos knew that he had no right to any of Maggie’s sweetness. And yet he’d gorged himself on her.

He felt toxic.

‘Go back and enjoy the cake with Marianne. Thank you, but it’s not for me.’

Maggie felt a chill go down her back. Nikos was more remote than she’d ever seen him. He’d retreated to some place she knew she couldn’t reach.

She moved towards him and he stepped back. A sharp pain lanced her gut.

‘We’ll be having dinner soon, if you want to join us.’

Your family.

Nikos shook his head abruptly. ‘I don’t need dinner. I have calls to make before our trip to France.’

The villa that Nikos had hired in the south of France was jaw-droppingly impressive, hugging the edge of a steep hill with views over the Mediterranean. A thoroughly modern structure, it was white and steel and sleek and impossibly sexy.

Maggie hated it.

And she was tired after a sleepless night with Daniel.

She and Marianne had decided that at almost four months he was starting to teethe—which had to be the reason for his tetchy humour and the fact that he would only take milk from her breast. He wasn’t interested in a bottle.