‘Work.’
Work. Of course. Still, she felt numbed by the news. He hadn’t even said goodbye. The last time she’d seen him she’d been racing from his bed, about to be sick. ‘When will he be back?’ she asked, trying to sound practical rather than devastated.
Yiannis gave her a sorrowful look. ‘I don’t know, Kyria Santos.’
Kyria Santos. The name jolted her. She was Alex’s wife, and yet she didn’t feel like it. She felt even less important than she had as his housekeeper, having been utterly dismissed and ignored after giving so much of herself to him.
‘I’m sure he’ll be back soon,’ she said, trying to sound matter-of-fact, and feeling she’d failed. But surely he would return in a day or two
? He still needed an heir, presumably. What happened to three times a week?
But the days passed and Alex didn’t return. He didn’t even ring, and when Anna asked her why she didn’t call him, Milly was too ashamed to admit she didn’t have his mobile number, and she was too proud to call his office like some cold-calling supplicant.
She tried to ignore the hurt that needled her at inopportune moments, the memory of his touch that had been so sweet, and then how awfully it had all ended. She wished she knew what was going on in his head, never mind his heart, but she felt as if she had no clue about him at all. He was as much a stranger as ever—even more so, because now she was married to him.
As the days passed Milly did her best to relax into time spent with her sister, whether it was curled up on the sofa watching films, or strolling along the beach, or having a coffee in the village. The time was precious and fleeting, for all too soon three weeks had passed and Anna needed to return home to get ready for school.
‘I’m going to miss you so much,’ Milly said, her voice choking as she watched Anna pack her bag. Yiannis had given her the message from Alex that Anna would return to Rome via his private jet, and Milly tried not to feel stung that he hadn’t deigned to tell her himself.
‘Perhaps I’ll be able to visit for a weekend some time,’ Anna suggested. ‘Or for Christmas...’
But Christmas felt like an age away. ‘I’ll make sure of it,’ Milly said firmly. She intended to use a chunk of her five million euros to give Carlos an incentive to let Anna consider Naxos her home. She was just working up the courage to confront him.
And what about Alex? More and more she felt the need to talk to him, to confront him about the nature of their marriage. It had been over two weeks since their wedding day, and she’d not had one word from him save for the message from Yiannis. It was more than an insult; it was cruel. She hadn’t thought him capable of such unkindness, and the fact that he was unsettled her. What kind of man had she married after all?
‘He’ll come back, Milly,’ Anna said softly, as if she could read her unhappy thoughts. Perhaps she could. ‘I’m sure he will.’
‘Yes, I know he will,’ Milly returned with false cheer. She wasn’t sure of any such thing, but she wasn’t going to let her sister worry. ‘Ring me as soon as you get back, all right? And I want to hear everything about your new school...’
‘Of course.’ Anna threw her arms around her and Milly held on tight. ‘You’ll get bored of me prattling on about it, I’m sure.’
‘Never,’ Milly returned. ‘Never, ever.’
The house felt even emptier after Anna had gone; Yiannis had driven her to the airstrip, with Milly accompanying, waving her off onto Alex’s luxurious jet that she’d never even seen before. Back at the villa, Milly wandered around the empty rooms, battling a swamping sense of loneliness she’d never experienced before, at least not in the villa.
She loved it here. It was the first place she’d really been able to think of as home. And yet now the rooms held memories that taunted her at every turn. The study, where Alex had asked her to marry him. The pool area, where they’d spoken in the dark and she’d seen his scars. The bedroom, where she’d felt both the sweetest, briefest pleasure and the most heart-rending pain.
Where she’d once been cheerfully productive, tidying rooms, weeding the garden, shopping in the village, now she felt adrift, restless and bored. Waiting...and she had no idea how long she would have to wait for, or what would happen when Alex finally returned. If he would return.
* * *
His marriage was a mistake. Two and a half weeks had not shaken that certainty from his core. Every time he closed his eyes, Alex pictured Milly’s terrified face, heard her whimpered words. ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’
What had he been thinking, believing he could marry a woman? That either of them could endure it? He’d left Naxos immediately; he knew Milly would be relieved and he hadn’t been able to bear the thought of seeing the revulsion on her face yet another time.
No, better to stay away. And now it had been over two weeks, and any chance of a pregnancy—although Alex could hardly credit that such an awkward act could result in something so fortuitous—could be dismissed. All he had to do was call Milly and ask her. Assuming she wasn’t pregnant, he would have the marriage annulled. His mistake would be rectified. They could both go on with their lives.
Autumn crisped the air, a few leaves fluttering down outside his office window, when Alex steeled himself to make the call. He listened to the house phone in Naxos ring, wondering if Milly would pick up. What had she been doing these last few weeks? Anna, he knew, had gone back to school. He’d made all the arrangements himself, and even now he allowed himself the barest flicker of pleasure that he might grant Milly some small happiness in that regard.
‘Hello?’ She sounded tired, he noted, and even dispirited.
‘Milly, it’s Alex.’
He heard her suck a breath in sharply. ‘Now you call.’
‘It’s been over two weeks.’
‘So? Is that some deadline?’ She let out a harsh laugh that sounded like despair. ‘Where have you been, Alex?’