The Greek's Marriage Bargain

Oh, God.

She made herself coffee and poured Jason a second glass of wine. ‘Do you happen to know where Xenon is?’ she asked casually.

‘Sure. He’s in Hollywood. It’s the tenth anniversary of My Crazy Greek Father coming up and there are loads of celebrations planned.’

Lexi chewed on her thumbnail. Athens would have been simpler and London simpler still. Hollywood seemed like a scary kind of place and one she’d moved on from a long time ago. And could she really risk making a transatlantic flight on the evidence of a single fact which might no longer mean anything?

She felt the twist of pain in her heart.

Could she risk not doing it?

With Jason sleeping soundly in the spare room, she tossed and turned all night, trying to reinforce all the reasons why it was best to leave things as they were. But the morning brought with it nothing but a burning certainty that she couldn’t let matters rest.

‘How long are you staying?’ she asked Jason.

He shrugged. ‘That depends how long you’ll have me. I’m not due back in Athens for a couple of weeks.’

She tossed him a spare set of keys. ‘Stay as long as you like. I have to go away for a few days.’

She could see the look of gratitude on his face and she guessed her offer was yet another mark of his successful rehabilitation. She would never have allowed him the freedom of her house before now.

She hadn’t booked a flight in a long time—actually, when she stopped to think about it, she’d never booked a flight for herself. Her management had always done it when she was in The Lollipops and when she’d been with Xenon, his private jet had always been at her disposal.

It was a fiddly business but she sorted out her ticket and all the entry requirements she needed to get into the US, and three days later her plane passed the giant Lego-like skyscrapers of Los Angeles, before coming in to land.

The palms of her hands were clammy and her stomach was tying itself up in knots. She hadn’t told Jason she was coming here and she certainly hadn’t warned Xenon of her plans. She wanted to see the expression on his face when he saw her again. She was scared that his love for her might have died. She was scared that he might now have considered himself lucky to have escaped from the prospect of a childless marriage.

She knew he always stayed at the hotel on Wilshire Boulevard owned by his friend Zak Constantinides, but, of course, all that could have changed. These days he might have changed his allegiance to one of the newer, trendier places on Sunset Boulevard, which she’d discovered on the Internet. Nevertheless, she’d booked into Zak’s hotel, even if the room rates had made her eyes water.

She waited until she had taken her bags upstairs before she dialled Xenon’s number and her heart started pounding when he picked it up on the third ring.

‘Lex,’ he said, his voice sardonic and not particularly welcoming. ‘This is a surprise.’

‘Yes, I realise that. I want to... I wondered if we could have a talk.’

‘I got the distinct impression we’d said everything there was to say.’

There was no softening in his voice. Not a single hint that he was pleased to hear from her. She sensed that he wasn’t going to make this easy for her. She was going to have to face the fact that it might be too late. Please, God, let it not be too late. ‘Could we?’ she persisted.

‘Go ahead. Talk. I’m not stopping you.’

‘I meant face to face.’

‘You might have a little difficulty with that one. I’m in Hollywood.’

‘So am I.’

A brief silence followed.

‘What did you say?’

‘I’m in Hollywood. Actually, I’m in Zak’s hotel and I’m wondering if you are, too. Jason told me you were over here, so I made a stab at guessing where you’d be staying.’

‘Presidential suite,’ he snapped and cut the connection.

Lexi told herself she should have waited before calling him. She should at least have given herself time to wash the long flight out of her system. As it was, there was barely time to splash cold water on her face and brush her hair into some kind of order before she took the lift up to the penthouse suite.

The door was on the latch and she pushed it open.

‘Xenon?’

‘I’m in here.’

She followed the direction of the voice, her heart clenching at the sound of his forbidding tone. She told herself it was probably too late. Of course it was too late.

He was standing in the sumptuous main reception area—all glowing shades of gold and claret. Tulips the colour of burgundy added to the almost medieval feel of the room and, in complete contrast, Xenon added a note of dark formality. He was wearing a black tuxedo and the exquisite suit made Lexi feel like the hired help in her jeans and T-shirt.