Leo dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘She adores me,’ he said confidingly to his cousin.
Anna rolled her eyes. ‘Definitely more fool me.’ But the smile was still on her face as she said it.
Markos could say nothing, only stare.
Leo nodded at his new wife.
‘Takes a lot to silence my little cousin, but looks like I’ve succeeded.’ He turned his attention back to Markos. ‘You can come and kiss the bride—but only on the cheek. I get the rest of her! She’s too fantastic to waste on anyone but me.’
Anna raised her brows mock-wearily. ‘He can’t help himself,’ she explained to Markos.
‘You’re married,’ Markos said again, as if he needed to repeat it to believe it.
Leo strolled over to the drinks cabinet in the office, pulled it open as if it belonged to him, and extracted a bottle of champagne from the fridge.
‘Signed, sealed and delivered,’ he agreed, deftly opening the bottle. He poured out three foaming glassfuls and handed them around. Markos took his numbly. His cousin settled himself down in one of the pair of large wing chairs and pulled his wife down on his knee. She draped an arm around his neck and started to sip her champagne.
Leo lifted his glass.
‘To marriage,’ he said, and drank. ‘Don’t stand there looking like you’re chewing a lemon—drink up!’ He took another mouthful and cast a benevolent eye on Markos.
‘I’ve come with a message, little cousin. Remember at the Levantsky launch? Me warning you about Vanessa adoring you? Well, I’ve wised up. An adoring woman is the best thing a man can have. I should know—I’ve got one of my own, and she thinks the sun shines out of my—ouch!’ He winced exaggeratedly as Anna punched his shoulder warningly.
Markos watched the byplay expressionlessly. He felt as if a train were running over him.
‘Vanessa’s left me.’
The words were out before he could stop them.
It was like a freeze frame. Leo’s champagne flute stalled in mid-lift. Anna stilled on his knee, her hand still playfully fisted.
‘She’s left you?’ It was Leo’s turn to echo his cousin dumbly.
Anna got to her feet.
‘Vanessa left you?’ she said. ‘But she was completely nuts on you.’
‘She walked out three days ago.’
Leo’s face was sober. ‘What happened? Why did she go?’
Markos looked away. ‘I have no idea.’ He drew in a sharp breath and deposited his unwanted champagne glass on his desk with a click. ‘She had no reason to,’ he went on. His voice sounded strange in his own ears, harsh, but very remote. ‘She had everything she wanted with me. Everything. She was the best mistress I ever had—’
There was another sharp inhalation of breath. But not from him.
‘Mistress?’ Anna’s voice cut like a knife.
‘Uh-oh,’ said Leo.
Markos stiffened at the open aggression in Anna’s voice. He glanced coolly at her. Anna’s face was darkening.
‘You regarded Vanessa as your mistress?’ she demanded.
Leo began to say, ‘I should explain—’ in Greek. His wife twisted her head.
‘Don’t let him off the hook! God, he’s the one with the English mother! He’s got no excuse for talking like that!’ She turned her wrath back on Markos, her eyes snapping with anger.
‘You know, I always thought Vanessa was a fool to be so besotted with you—because obviously you weren’t about to make all her dreams come true, were you? I always knew it was going to be tears before bedtime for her. But I didn’t realise what a total louse you were! You actually have the gall to stand there and insult her like this—calling her your mistress!’