Irresistible Greeks: Passion and Promises

CHAPTER FIVE

THE FAINT DRONE of the aircraft engine was the only sound he could hear and several times Xenon found himself lifting his head from his pile of paperwork, to see if Lexi had fallen asleep. She hadn’t. She was sitting staring at an open magazine on her lap, though he noticed she hadn’t turned a single page.

She still looked pale, he thought. Against her flowery dress her skin seemed almost transparent, giving her a delicate appearance which made her seem almost breakable. But she wasn’t breakable, he reminded himself. Behind her delicate appearance, she was tough. The toughest woman he had ever known.

He looked down at the document but the words were just a blur of black and white. He leaned his head back against the seat. Last night they’d talked more frankly about the baby than they’d ever done before—but he had been left with no answers. Maybe there were no answers. Maybe he just had to learn to accept that it was what it was. A marriage against which the odds had been stacked from the beginning, followed by circumstances which had conspired to prove it was never going to work.

Yet that wasn’t helping him deal with the current situation, was it? It didn’t stop him wanting her so badly that it was all he could do not to reach out and touch her. She’d made it clear that sex wasn’t on her agenda but he wondered how long her resolve would last once they were back to sharing a bedroom.

The engine noise changed and he glanced out of the cabin window. ‘Look, we’re coming in to land,’ he said.

Lexi followed the direction of his gaze and saw the island of Rhodes dazzling like a bright jewel in the dark blue waters of the Aegean. She thought how long it had been since she’d been abroad and done anything as decadent as just lie in the sun. ‘When were you last here?’

‘I came over a couple of months ago for a few days. Work has been...demanding.’

‘So what else is new?’ she demanded wryly. ‘You haven’t stopped since we boarded the plane.’

His blue eyes gleamed. ‘There’s a reason for that. I’ve been trying to clear my diary so that I won’t need to work while we’re here.’

Lexi felt her lips part in surprise. ‘Good heavens,’ she said faintly. ‘Next thing you’ll be telling me that you’re planning to switch off your phone at night.’

‘If that’s a veiled offer to share my bed, then consider it done.’

‘It wasn’t.’

He smiled. ‘Didn’t think so.’

He picked up the documents and put them in his briefcase, vowing not to go near them for the duration of their stay. But it was hard to break the habit of a lifetime—a way of living and working which had become second nature to him.

He’d been barely eighteen when his father had dropped dead and Xenon’s discovery that the business was in a parlous state hadn’t helped the family come to terms with their shock and grief. Suddenly, the world as he had known it was one he no longer recognised.

But he had turned everything around. He had thrown himself in at the deep end and worked every hour to learn about the business, from the bottom up. He had sweated blood to earn the respect of the disillusioned Kanellis workforce. And while most people would have been content simply to get the giant organisation back on its feet, Xenon was not most people. He didn’t want to be known as a man who had saved something, he wanted to be known as a man who had made something. That was why he had bought the newspaper.

The film had been something different. The film had touched something deep inside him. It had connected with his essential Greekness. He had backed it because he had loved it; the money and awards he had earned as a result had not been what had driven him. And Lexi had understood. She had loved that film, too.

‘I’m trying to learn how to delegate,’ he said and saw her turn her head to look at him, that lip-parted look of surprise still on her face. ‘Loukas and Dimitri are keen to share some of the responsibility but it’s hard to let go when I’ve lived this way for so long.’

‘What are you so scared of.’

The smile which greeted this remark was sardonic. ‘You think that I am scared? That Xenon Kanellis is scared of anything?’

‘Well, if you’re not—then why not just go ahead and do it? Free up more time for yourself. Enjoy some of the fruits of your labours.’ Her voice softened. ‘Didn’t you once tell me that you weren’t going to work yourself into an early grave, like your father?’

He stared into her eyes, which looked as silvery-cool as mercury. What would she say if he told her that these days the hours he worked filled an emptiness which nothing else seemed to touch? That sometimes he held onto work with the determination of a man clutching at a lifeline?

But introspection had never been his thing. He had always preferred the practical to the theoretical. He caught hold of her hand and turned it over. ‘Where’s your wedding ring?’

‘At home, somewhere.’

‘Or maybe you threw it away in a bid to forget me—isn’t that what bitter ex-wives do?’

‘Actually, it’s in a box on top of my dressing table, along with all the other jewellery I no longer wear. And I’m not bitter, Xenon.’

‘You should have brought it with you.’ He traced an imaginary ring with the tip of his finger. ‘What if my grandmother notices you aren’t wearing it?’

‘She’ll have to draw her own conclusions.’

‘I disagree. We’ll have to see about finding you another one.’

His words were distracting and so was his touch and Lexi was glad to pull her hand away and scrabble around in her bag for her passport and wallet.

Fast-tracked through customs, Xenon was treated like a homecoming king and greeted fondly by airport workers he’d known since he was a boy. Lexi had forgotten how he could lay on the charm and get people eating out of his hand—especially here in his homeland. He possessed an ability to blend in no matter what the company and could happily drink with socialites and lorry-drivers alike. Hadn’t he once managed to avert a dockers’ strike by the simple expedient of walking into the shipyard and talking to the union chief over a cup of coffee?

Outside the terminal a car was waiting and Xenon said something in Greek to the driver as they pulled away. They’d been driving for about ten minutes when Lexi realised they were going the wrong way.

‘This isn’t the way to your home.’

‘I know it isn’t. We’re going into Rhodes Town first.’

She’d begun to feel nervous at the thought of seeing his family again and the thought of a delay was only adding to her anxiety levels. ‘What for?’

‘Have patience, Lex. Just sit back and enjoy the scenery, and let me take care of it.’

Lexi glowered. There he was, doing that dominant macho thing again—and she was just letting him get away with it. And yet it was frighteningly easy to sink back into the soft leather seat and drink in the beautiful views which were flashing past the window. Before long they had reached Rhodes Town and, since Xenon’s driver was experienced enough to skilfully negotiate the busy streets, the car was soon sliding to a halt outside a small jeweller’s shop.

Lexi saw the glint of precious metals and diamonds glittering in the window and she frowned. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Simple. You’re missing a wedding ring, so we’re buying you a new one.’

‘No,’ she said desperately. ‘We’re not.’

But the driver was already opening her door and, other than creating a very public scene, what choice did she have other than to step out onto the hot pavement? How could she put into words without sounding stupidly vulnerable that she didn’t want a pretend ring. She didn’t want anything that was going to make an even bigger mockery of her failed marriage.

But Xenon was really in control mode by then, busy speaking in Greek to the shop’s owner who swiftly produced a velvet tray of rings—some plain, some embellished and all of them extremely costly, judging by the price-tags.

Did the man notice her marked lack of enthusiasm and wonder why she wasn’t happy or triumphant to have such an eligible man fussing over her? Did he notice her flinch as Xenon masterminded the whole operation, his gaze flicking over the tray with the eye of the connoisseur as he made suggestions about what kind of ring she’d prefer. But she couldn’t really walk out of there empty-handed and so in the end she chose the simplest of them all—a discreet band in eighteen-carat gold.

‘Try not to lose this one, darling,’ murmured Xenon in English. Picking up the ring, he slid it slowly onto her finger, his blue eyes narrowing behind the lush curtain of his lashes as if he had felt the automatic tensing of her hand.

As Xenon’s payment card was being processed, the shop owner leaned forward to admire the clunky silver bangle which was dangling from Lexi’s wrist.

‘This is beautiful,’ he said.

‘My wife makes jewellery,’ put in Xenon helpfully.

Lexi shot him a furious look, thinking that he was getting carried away. He didn’t need to play the proud husband in front of someone they were never going to see again.

The shopkeeper nodded. ‘You sell anything here on Rhodes?’

‘No. Only in England,’ she said, with a smile.

‘You want to bring me some pieces to look at? I’m always on the lookout for original work. Tourists like to spend money when they are on holiday.’

She opened her mouth to explain that her visit here was temporary, but once again Xenon butted in.

‘We have rather a busy schedule at the moment, don’t we, darling?’

Lexi wanted to drum her fists against his chest and tell him that she was not his darling. She wanted to tear the fake wedding ring from her finger and hurl it down on the counter, but she respected Xenon’s position within the local community, even if he didn’t respect her feelings. She began to wonder how on earth she was going to maintain this crazy façade for more than a minute when he seemed determined to get under her skin at every opportunity.

The walls of the shop felt as if they were closing in on her and, deliberately, she looked at her watch. ‘We really ought to be going,’ she said.

They stepped outside into the sunlight and Lexi was just about to give him a piece of her mind when a flare of white, incandescent light almost blinded her. A man dressed in denim leapt out from the side of the building and began firing off a rapid series of photos, pushing a giant camera in her face.

For a moment they were both too startled to move before Xenon swore at him.

‘What the hell?’ he snarled, making a lunge for the camera.

But although he was fast, the photographer had the element of surprise on his side. He sprinted off and jumped onto the back of a waiting motorbike, which began to weave its way up the street before roaring off into the distance, lost to sight.

‘I’m going after him!’ Xenon snarled, but Lexi clamped a restraining hand on his bunched arm.

‘How? Not by foot, you won’t—and you’ll never catch him in this enormous car!’ But she was shaking. Shaking like a leaf. She hadn’t been ambushed like that in a long time and she had forgotten how exposed it could make you feel. She could see several tourists stopping now and, inevitably, some of them were getting their phones out. ‘Now look what’s happening,’ she moaned.

‘Get in the car,’ said Xenon, pushing her into the back seat before sliding in beside her.

Once they’d pulled away he took out his mobile phone, punched out a number and began speaking in a flurry of Greek for several furious minutes. The call finished, he turned to her. ‘Perhaps I should have anticipated that might happen. I’m sorry.’

‘Well, it’s a bit late to be sorry,’ she said crossly, trying not to melt beneath the genuine contrition in his blue eyes. ‘That was a gift of a photo. Why, I could even write the headlines for them: Greek Billionaire And Ex-Wife Ring The Changes.’

‘That’s very good, Lex. Did you ever think about a career in copywriting?’

‘Don’t you dare try and make a joke about it. Didn’t you stop to think that someone might have seen us going into a jewellery shop and rung the press?’

‘Oddly enough, the press aren’t my first priority. I don’t spend my damned life tiptoeing around them.’

‘Well, maybe you should. Now they’ll think there’s a story when there isn’t. A divorcing couple buying a brand-new wedding ring! Why don’t we find somewhere where I can buy a white dress and a bunch of flowers and we can maybe pose for some more photos?’

‘Stop worrying.’ His voice was soothing. ‘I’ve sorted it.’

‘How?’

‘Just leave it to me.’

To Lexi’s surprise, the journey passed quickly and suddenly the magnificent Kanellis estate was coming into view—a glorious citadel overlooking the medieval town of Lindos. But despite the beauty which surrounded her, Lexi felt her body tense as the car drove through the electronic gates before coming to a halt in the main courtyard.

Because she still had to face Marina, didn’t she? And hadn’t that always been a stumbling block?

Xenon’s mother hadn’t been her biggest fan. She clearly disapproved of a flashy English pop-star with a troubled background. It didn’t matter what Lexi did—or what she tried to do—she was never able to do it right. Toning down her image and trying to blend into an aristocratic Greek background was never going to work. She’d never broken through that initial barrier of hostility and it seemed that her mother-in-law could never get past the fact that she thought her beloved son had married beneath him.

But that was no longer relevant, Lexi told herself. I’m doing this for Jason. And I am no longer that woman who is so easily intimidated.

‘Here we are,’ said Xenon. He caught her gaze and held it. ‘Ready?’

She drew in a breath. ‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

The driver opened the door for her and she stepped out into the sunny central courtyard where she was immediately enveloped in warm, fragrant air.

Looking down she could see the crystal waters of St Nicolas Bay and the hills which framed it like a picture. She could smell pine and lemons and hear the magnified hum of the cicadas. It was so typically and beautifully Greek that for a moment Lexi just stood there, drinking in the moment.

The land had been owned by the family for centuries and the tiered estate was vast and sprawling. All three of its bougainvillea-covered properties were entirely separate—each with their own private gardens. Pots of tumbling flowers provided splashes of colour—and the infinity pool seemed to connect with the sea and sky in layers of different, dazzling blues. Lexi had often wondered what it must have been like to have grown up in a place as beautiful as this. A place which was as different from the scruffy social housing where she’d spent her formative years as night was to day.

Suddenly she saw a familiar figure emerging from the main house, the sun illuminating the new threads of grey which were streaking her dark hair.

Her workaday dress was covered with an apron and Lexi’s heart clenched in her chest as the woman grew closer. ‘Phyllida!’ she croaked—and then all the breath was knocked out of her lungs as she was caught in a fierce embrace by Xenon’s London housekeeper.

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.