Eligible Greeks: Sizzling Affairs: The Good Greek Wife? / Powerful Greek, Housekeeper Wife / Greek Tycoon, Wayward Wife

‘I don’t want this,’ she managed, tensing her muscles against his hold, pulling herself away from him as far as she could while he still kept her hand prisoner.

She had to get away, to find some space and quiet in which to collect her thoughts and decide how to go forward.

‘Let me go!’

If he reacted against her, if he held her tighter, pulled her close, then she did not know what she would do. The swirl of ambiguous feelings inside her head was like a tornado, throwing her off balance and leaving her unable to think.

‘I said let me go!’

The speed with which he released her added to the sense of shock, making her sway and stumble, almost fall. But it was fear that he would come for her again that had her reeling away, grabbing out at a nearby chair for support.

‘Don’t come near me! I don’t want you near me!’

Oh, you liar, you liar, her conscience reproached her bitterly. You weak, cowardly liar. She wanted nothing so much as his arms around her, his body close to hers, to hold her and comfort her, to warm her and melt away the hard core of ice that seemed to have formed at the centre of her heart.

But Zarek simply folded his arms across his broad chest and regarded her coldly through eyes that seemed to have been formed from burnished steel, polished so hard that they were opaque and closed off against her.

‘Of course not,’ he drawled with bitter cynicism. ‘After all, you never really wanted me back.’

It was only what she’d told him. If you go, don’t expect me to be waiting here when you come back. Bitter pain had made her lash out at the time, knowing she would rather die than have him realise just how much she had loved him when he had seen her only as a willing body to warm his bed—and a brood mare to conceive his child. But it still stung viciously to have her wild, unthinking words turned against her in this way.

‘You’ve sprung this on me—appearing from the dead. I— need some time,’ she managed, trying for appeasement but getting nowhere with it if the cold burn of his gaze was anything to go by. And the way those powerful arms were crossed tight over his chest was like a rigid shield, deflecting any appeal she might direct at him.

‘Then take it.’

‘What?’

With her own defences ready formed for battle, his sudden capitulation was so unexpected that it took all the defiance from her, leaving her limp as a deflated balloon.

‘Take it.’

It was more of a command this time, snapped at her with contempt that was like a slap in the face. It seemed that he had had enough of baiting her, for now at least. That shocking, taunting mood seemed to have evaporated, leaving instead something that sounded disturbingly like a cynical weariness.

‘If you need the time to adjust to the fact that the husband you hoped was dead—’

‘Never hoped!’

She couldn’t let that pass. No matter how terrible things had been between them, she had never once hoped he was no longer still alive. And she was appalled that he might even think so.

‘How could I ever hope that?’

‘Hoped was never coming back…’ Zarek amended without even the tiniest amount of a concession in his tone. ‘Then take that time. I know that I sprung my arrival on you and heaven knows I too need some space.’

It was like a slap in the face, making pain twist in her stomach. She felt as if the room were closing in on her, crushing the breath from her body, making her feel sick with distress. He had been back—what?—barely an hour, and already he wanted space—to escape from her.

‘To accustom myself to being here again. It has been a long time.’

Something in his tone brought Penny up sharp, made her look at him more closely. Only now did she see the evidence of new lines about his nose and mouth, the tiniest flecks of grey in his hair at the temples. Evidence that hinted at the fact that his life hadn’t been totally easy while he had been missing. She had forgotten everything that the counsellors had told them, the advice they had been given at the beginning of all this, when they had believed that Zarek might be found and might be on his way back to them before the end of the year.

Wherever he’s been, they’d said, whatever has happened to him, he will need time and space to adjust. He was held hostage, his life was in danger. It was unlikely that he would be able to just walk into the house and take up his old life where he had left off.

The wave of reaction that swept over her at the thought made her feel sick and ashamed, a terrible sense of guilt pushing her into rash, unguarded words.

‘I’m sorry—I should have thought—do you need anything—want anything? Have you eaten? A sandwich? Some coffee perhaps?’

She sounded like the most inexperienced and gauche hostess greeting a complete stranger for the very first time. And obviously Zarek thought so too from the way that his beautiful mouth twisted and his dark eyes gleamed with something dangerous and cruel. One long, tanned hand lifted in a flicking gesture of dismissal.

‘No—nothing. If I need anything, I can find it for myself— or get one of the staff to see to it. I do still have the staff in the house, I take it?’

‘Of course you do.’

Flinging the answer back at him, she emphasised the you so as to make sure he realised that she had heard and noted that arrogant ‘I’, which made it plain that he was back here in his role as owner of the villa, MD of Odysseus Shipping, lord of all he surveyed.

And her husband.

And what of her then? As his wife did she still have a place in this house? And for how long? While Zarek had been missing she had had a role to play, but now that he was back…

Did he even still want her as his wife?

‘Then you have nothing to worry about.’

And with that she was dismissed. As if she needed the message rammed home he turned his back on her, walking across the room to stare out of the window, one hand pushed deep into his trouser pocket, the other lifting once again to press against the scar above his eye.

In the doorway, Penny paused, half turned back to him.

‘Zarek…’

But his only response was an impatient gesture of his dark head, repulsing without hesitation the tentative approach.

‘Go!’ he said and it was a command she would be a fool to ignore. ‘Just go.’

Well, what had she expected? Penny asked herself as reluctantly she turned away again and made herself move away, letting the door fall shut behind her.

Zarek Michaelis. Your absent husband. Home at last.

The mocking words he had tossed at her sounded in her head as she walked down the long, sunlit hall, heading for the stairs.

He was home, but it was obvious that nothing had changed. And because of that the wonderful joy and delight she should have been able to find in his return were totally missing. Zarek was back in body perhaps, but in his mind, and most of all in his heart, he was as lost to her as ever.

Perhaps more so. Because at least the Zarek who had gone away had put on a good pretence of being her husband when they were together. He had made it plain that in one sense at least—the sexual one—he wanted her.

He had wanted her in his arms, in his bed. He had barely been able to keep his hands off her and at least that way she had been able to get close to him. Able to keep him with her.

But that had been before the dreadful row they had had; now it seemed that even that had waned, taking with it the only chance she had of holding him.

‘Don’t,’ he had said when she’d touched him. And he’d kept his eyes closed to reinforce the rejection in his words.

Zarek had only ever wanted her sexually, never loving her. He had hidden it in the past, but it seemed that he was no longer taking the trouble to hide anything any more. His cold dismissal of her just now proved that. Even that wanting seemed to have died in the time he had been away.

She had got him back from the dead and finally lost him for ever all in the same moment, it seemed.

Chapter Five

THE sound of Argus scratching at the door and whining to be let out was what woke Penny from the deep, dark sleep into which she had tumbled, how long later she had no idea. Night had fallen while she had dozed and the room was now in almost complete darkness, with only the glimmer of the moon coming through the cloud-hazed sky to throw any light onto things.

‘Argus—no!’

The words came automatically, the result of so many other mornings being woken like this, and feeling afraid that Hermione would hear and be outraged both at being woken so early and the damage she would declare the dog was doing to the door.

‘Stop that! Give me a minute and I’ll…’

The words faded as she came more fully awake, sitting up on the bed and looking around her, her thoughts blurring as the truth of reality hit home.

It wasn’t morning, she realised, it was evening. Late evening on the day that her life as she knew it had been turned upside down.

Late evening on the day that Zarek had come back from the dead.

‘Zarek!’

Just the thought of him had her almost leaping from the big double bed, whirling round to stare at the side of it where, during the days of their marriage, Zarek had always slept. This was after all his bedroom, so wouldn’t it be logical that he would come in here if he wanted to sleep? She had been so deeply unconscious that he could have come into the room, into the bed, and she wouldn’t have noticed. She couldn’t begin to decide if the shiver that ran down her spine at the thought was one of excitement or dread. How would she have felt if she had woken to find her husband lying beside her in their marriage bed?

‘No!’

Shaking her head to drive the tormenting thoughts away, she pushed herself into action, hurrying across the room to open the door and let Argus out. Freed, the dog hurried off down the corridor, claws pattering on the polished wooden floor. The whole upper part of the house was in total darkness and she had to grope her way along before she could find a switch to bring some light to the place.

‘Argus—wait…’

She should have checked the time before she’d left the room. Her watch was still on the bedside cabinet and she felt so disorientated that she had no idea how late in the night exactly. The last thing she wanted was to disturb the household and have Hermione and her sons descend on her, full of complaints.

And Zarek?

Once again her nerves twisted so sharply that she almost missed her footing and went tumbling down the wide, curving staircase. She had no idea where her husband was or what he might have been doing while she had been asleep. And not even knowing how long—hours, or just minutes—she had been away from him, she couldn’t even start to guess.

She had never intended to fall asleep. The only thing she had wanted was some time to herself, in peace and quiet, to try to adjust to what had happened and to bring herself to some sort of acceptance of the way that her life had been turned totally upside down in just a few short minutes. But the way that Zarek had dismissed her, ordering her from the room with that aggressive movement of his head, had shaken her to the core. She had sunk down onto the soft surface of the bed with a sigh, then flung herself back against the pillow and closed her eyes, meaning to force herself to try and think…

But the images that had floated across the screen of her eyelids had made any sort of rational thought impossible. All that she saw was a stream of snapshots of Zarek, the man she had adored, had loved to call her husband, in the days before the terrible realisation that she had never truly been the wife of his heart. Her mind had taken her back to their wedding day, not quite three years before, when she had walked down the aisle towards where he stood by the altar, tall and proud, devastatingly handsome—and totally secure in his own skin.

She hadn’t been able to believe that this man had even noticed the insignificant junior secretary in the import and export business that worked so often with Odysseus Shipping, let alone asked her to marry him. And that he was here, now, prepared to go through with the ceremony. Only the previous night, for the first time since their engagement, he had let slip the cool, courteous mask that he wore when he was with her, and had finally revealed a burningly sensual, fiercely passionate man underneath.

That night had shown her that Zarek did at least want her with a desire that had stunned her. A heated hunger in which the words cold and rational had no place at all. And then she had been happy to give herself to him because she had believed she really was loved. It was only later, when she had come to know the truth, that she had started to withdraw from him.

Remembering it again now, Penny felt her legs tremble beneath her and she had to grab at the banisters for support. She’d fallen asleep on the memories of her wedding night and as a result her dreams had been filled with wild, erotic fantasies that had had her tossing and turning in the throes of burning need.

She hadn’t felt like that since the first lonely time when Zarek had left for the test voyage for his yacht, the Troy, walking out on her in anger, to give her time to think, he had said, to get her head together. And then later, when he had been declared missing, and when she had believed he was never coming home. The yearning hunger, the aching need—the physical need, at least—had slowly subsided over the last year, but it seemed that all Zarek had to do was to walk into a room and once again she was swamped by a tidal wave of need, one that had hit her with its full strength in the moment that she had touched him, and that now had sent disturbing echoes through her dreams.

But Zarek had clearly not felt the same.

‘No,’ he had said. Just a single word. But there had been such total rejection in his tone, and in the coldly burning look that had accompanied it, that she could have been in no doubt that total rejection was what he meant. And rejection was all he felt. Even the burning passion that had once flared between them had gone now, dying as a result of whatever had happened in the years he had been away.

But would it have been any different if the hijack had never taken place? If he’d come back three days later as had been planned. Penny felt as if something cold and nasty had just slid down her spine at the thought. Zarek had married her because he wanted a child, an heir who would ensure that Odysseus Shipping stayed in the family and there was no risk that it would ever come under the control of his stepmother and brothers.

The ground floor of the villa was in total darkness too, still and silent as if everyone had left, abandoning the place. But going where?

And where was Zarek? Would he have actually left, so very soon after arriving home again? A cold hand seemed to squeeze at her heart at the thought that he might just walk out and never come back again. Simply leaving her with the knowledge that he was alive and so was their marriage. But a marriage that it seemed he did not want any more.

‘Zarek?’

Uncertainty made her voice wobble as she called out into the darkness.

‘Anyone there?’

A deep bark startled her, making her jump as Argus suddenly lifted his head and pointed his narrow black nose in the direction of the garden room. Another bark, shorter and sharper this time, before the dog took off at speed towards the scent or the sound that he had detected. Not for Argus the indecision and hesitation that came from not knowing what his reception would be. He was totally sure of his welcome and he bounded through the partly open door, his joy and excitement evident in every movement.

But then Argus had it exactly right, Penny reflected, following the big dog at a much slower pace. Zarek would of course be overjoyed to see him.

‘Argus!’

The delight in Zarek’s deep voice reinforced her belief that he would be more than happy to see his hound and prepared Penny for what she would see as she went into the room herself.

The moon was shining through the big patio doors that were open to the sight of the gleaming waves that swayed and tossed between the cliffs and the horizon, the sound of them breaking against the rocks on the shore. Zarek sat in a wide comfortable armchair just inside the room, his face, his whole body, in shadow.

‘Argus!’ he said again, slapping one hand against his thigh to call the dog to him. A moment later he was cradling the animal’s big black and white head in both his palms, rubbing the rough fur and crooning softly in low-toned Greek. And Argus, instead of bounding round his master in overwhelming joy at his return, as she had expected, simply gave himself up to the bliss of being reunited. His eyes closed and the only thing that moved was his big tail that was wagging furiously.

It was foolish to be jealous of a dog, Penny told herself. But at the same time she couldn’t help envying the hound’s simple pleasure in the moment. And his total confidence that he would be welcome, that Zarek would be as delighted to see him as he was to see his master.

It would all have been so much easier if she could have run straight into her husband’s arms in the moment that he had first walked into the room. But of course Argus had endured none of the distance, the arguments, the stand up fights that had marred the days before Zarek’s departure. He was loved for what he was, not given house room simply because of what Zarek wanted from him. And, besides, he was happy to acknowledge the man as his master and to obey his every command.

Penny couldn’t help feeling that if, like the dog, she had come when called, or at the slap of a hand against a thigh, then things might not be so tense and awkward. Instead they were like two opposing armies, facing a stand-off, waiting for the instruction either to attack or stand down. And she didn’t know which one was most likely.

But how she longed to hear the gentleness in her husband’s voice that he now directed towards the hound, or to feel his hands on her, stroking, caressing as they were moving over the animal’s big head and down his long back.

‘You kept the dog.’ Zarek’s voice broke into her uncomfortable thoughts, making her start slightly, lifting her eyes from the dog’s black and white head to look into her husband’s face. Not that she could see anything of Zarek’s expression. The darkness of the shadows by the wall was too intense, hiding everything.

‘Of course I kept him,’ she managed stiffly. ‘What else did you think I’d do?’

‘He wasn’t your pet. And you were never that much of a dog person.’

‘No. But of course I kept him at the beginning when we still thought that you might come back.’

She wasn’t yet going to admit that at the beginning the dog and his needs had seemed to be the only things that had kept her going. That the reason he slept on her bed was because she hadn’t been able to sleep alone and that most nights she had wept into the dog’s shaggy fur. Zarek might never have loved her but she had loved him and the thought that he was lost or dead had torn at her already wounded heart.

‘Besides, he pined for you so I had to look after him—and after that Argus and I—came to an understanding.’

‘Thank you for that.’

Zarek’s strong fingers were still buried in the rough fur, Argus’ head on his knee, the dog looking up into his master’s face with such blind devotion that she felt tears sting at her eyes. Once she had felt like that, hungry for Zarek’s attention, desperate for any casual word that fell from his lips, any caress he offered her. But that had been before she had realised that she was only ever second best and that the man she loved didn’t feel the same way about her.

‘It’s very dark in here,’ she said abruptly, needing to break the mood.

Swinging away, she searched for the light switch, found it. Her fingers were on it when Zarek spoke sharply from behind her.

‘Don’t!’ It was a command not a request but a moment later he softened it slightly by adding, ‘I always loved the sight of the moonlight on the waves. I missed it.’

This was her cue to ask where he’d been while he’d missed the sea, but even as she opened her mouth to do so her nerves failed her. She was manoeuvring in the dark, both physically and mentally, and she was having to grope her way slowly through the shadows, trying to find some sort of a path that would help her.

‘Whatever you want.’

She moved to a chair opposite him. At least this way the light from the moon gave her some hope of being able to read the expressions on his face.

‘What time is it?’

‘Around eight.’

Zarek didn’t even trouble to glance at his watch. It seemed that the hour was a matter of total indifference to him. He couldn’t care less if it was night or day.

‘So late?’

How had she come to sleep so long? Was it the exhaustion after the stress of the day? Or the rush of relief at knowing that Zarek was home. That he was safe. She still couldn’t quite absorb the fact for all that she was sitting looking at him with the sound of his voice in her ears, the scent of his skin reaching her nostrils. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch, to reassure herself that he was real. To feel the warmth of his flesh under her hands. But the fear of how he might react held her back.

She didn’t feel she could take another of those cold-eyed rejections. Not now with what seemed like several layers of her skin flayed away, leaving her nerves raw and exposed.

‘Where is everyone?’ she asked to distract herself.

Normally at this time the staff were busy preparing the evening meal. The family would meet for drinks before dinner. But of course there was no way that this was any sort of an ordinary day.

‘Gone.’

‘Gone where?’

Zarek’s shrug dismissed the question as unimportant.

‘Home—or wherever they spend their evenings.’

‘Everyone?’

This time his only response was a curt nod.

‘Even Jason—and Hermione?’ Penny found it hard to believe that Hermione would relinquish her place in the family home after she had been so determined to move in.

‘Even Jason—and especially Hermione.’ Zarek didn’t give either of the names any particular emphasis but all the same it seemed to Penny that they had a dark underlining to his tone.

‘How did you persuade Hermione to leave?’

She hadn’t been able to achieve that herself in almost two years, even when she had asked Zarek’s stepmother point blank to go. Since then Hermione had been a constant, nagging presence, critical of everything she did.

‘If she wanted to keep the generous allowance she receives from Odysseus Shipping then there was no argument.’ The cynicism that twisted Zarek’s mouth sounded darkly in his voice. ‘She was very easily persuaded.’

‘So there’s no one here?’

Was that slight shake in her voice apprehension, relief, or even a strange sort of anticipation? Penny couldn’t begin to decide for herself and, from the faint frown that she saw draw Zarek’s dark brows together so briefly, neither could he.

‘No one but us—and Argus.’

Zarek moved at last, getting to his feet to open the big glass doors to the garden so that the dog could go outside. Once again Penny felt an affinity with the hound as he padded reluctantly forward, obviously needing to get outside, but wanting to be sure that Zarek would not disappear again if he turned his back. Did she look at him like that? she wondered. Could the sense of disbelief, the fear that it might all be an illusion after all, show in her eyes when she watched him?

‘But why?’

‘I thought we had a lot of catching up to do. We need to talk. And that we would do it better if we were on our own.’

‘Oh.’

It was all she could manage, and the gulp as she swallowed down the word gave away more than she was at all comfortable with.