The rooms were all furnished with sumptuous but elegant furniture. Muted colours in varying but complementary shades in each room. It was modern but felt classic. Huge canvases adorned the walls and antiques nestled among more modern artefacts.
Each room had huge French doors that led out to a terrace that ran the length of the house, overlooking the impressive garden. Even more impressive was the view of Athens in the distance.
Sasha walked out of the formal dining room onto the terrace. They were far above the teeming ancient city, the air heavy with the scent of the flowers that climbed the wall of the terrace in colourful profusion. She tried desperately to conjure up a memory of having looked at this view from here before, but her mind stayed blank. Apollo came and stood beside her on the terrace and her skin prickled. Sasha asked, ‘Is this an old house?’
‘No, I built it on this site.’
Sasha looked at him. ‘You built it?’
His jaw tightened. ‘Not me personally. My construction company.’
Sasha turned to face him. ‘So...you own a construction company?’
He looked at her and nodded. ‘Vasilis Construction.’
Sasha frowned. ‘Is it a family business—do you have family?’
An expression flashed across his face so fast she couldn’t decipher it but it had looked for a second like pain. ‘My family are dead. A long time ago. My father was in construction but he worked for someone else so, no, it’s not a family business.’
‘I’m sorry to hear your family are gone.’ Both their families were dead. ‘What happened?’
For a long moment she thought he wouldn’t answer and then he said, ‘A series of unfortunate events.’
He stepped back. ‘Let me show you the rest of the villa.’
Sasha pushed aside her curiosity about ‘a series of unfortunate events’ and followed the broad shoulders of her husband as he led her back into the hall and up a majestic flight of stairs. Villa seemed like an ineffectual word for what was, clearly, a luxurious mansion.
She wondered what it must have been like to come here with her new husband for the first time. A small voice pointed out that she was getting to relive that experience right now. Except, she wondered, had he been any warmer the first time round?
The villa retained that modern but classic feel throughout. Little touches of period features to give it a sense of timelessness.
In the basement there was a state-of-the-art gym and media room, which could convert into a home cinema. On the same level there was a lap pool and steam and sauna room. Not to mention the extra rooms for massage and treatments that opened out onto a lower-level garden with a couple of sun loungers and a hammock hung between two trees.
Apollo waved a hand towards the gardens, ‘There’s also an outdoor pool and changing area.’
He showed her his study on the first floor. A very masculine room with walls lined with shelves and books. Across the hall he opened another door and said, ‘This is your office.’
She couldn’t contain her surprise. ‘I had an office?’
He put out a hand and she went in, not sure why she suddenly felt reluctant. The room was pretty but overdone. A plush white carpet and a white desk were the simplest things in the room. There was an expensive-looking computer on the desk.
The walls were covered with flowery chintzy wallpaper and there were framed prints of the covers of glossy magazines on the wall. Lots of shelves that were mainly empty. A handful of books.
A pink velvet chair and matching footstool. It looked as if it hadn’t been touched.
‘What did I use this for?’
Apollo was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest, a look of almost disdain on his face. ‘You said you wanted to set up a PR business.’
Sasha looked at him. ‘Is that what I did? PR?’
He shrugged. ‘When we met you were serving drinks at a reception. I don’t think your knowledge of PR extended beyond the service end of the industry.’
There was a tone to his voice that Sasha chose to try and figure out later. She followed him up to the second level where the bedrooms were situated. He led her past several guest rooms to the end of the corridor, opening a door. ‘This is your room.’
She went in and stopped, turning around. ‘My room?’
‘Your room.’