Would everything be awkward? Would he find a reason to fire her? She didn’t want to lose this job. She was making three times as much money as she had been translating business documents back in Paris, and she liked the spacious villa
with its beautiful flower-filled garden, the infinity pool, Yiannis and his wife, Marina, stopping by on occasion, the friendly village of Halki a short distance away.
She liked shopping among the quaint market stalls, a wicker basket looped over her arm as she examined lumps of feta cheese floating in brine, plump, red tomatoes, juicy olives.
She liked the little café with its rickety tables overlooking a dusty square where she sometimes sat and had a coffee after doing her shopping. She liked the quiet, starry evenings, the only sound the distant lapping of the waves. She liked the solitude, and feeling safe. She didn’t want to leave here.
So why had she said no to Alex Santos’ marriage proposal?
With a groan of frustration Milly rose from her bed. She wouldn’t sleep now. She slipped on her thin dressing gown and padded softly downstairs to the living area, opening the French windows as quietly as she could. Alex’s bedroom was in the other wing of the house, one she only visited to clean, but she definitely did not want to disturb him now.
Outside the air was pleasantly cool, scented with bougainvillea and orange blossom. Moonlight glinted off the placid surface of the pool, giving it a ghostly feel. Milly wandered over to a wooden chaise and curled up on it, drawing her knees to her chest as she gazed out at the moonlit gardens. She let out a gusty sigh, tension that had been knotting her shoulders since Alex had said stay easing just a little.
She loved the peaceful solitude of this place—after a lifetime of the party or boarding-school scene, the quiet of her own company was a soothing balm, and the villa felt like a home, the first real one she’d ever had.
Five million euros. She couldn’t stop thinking about it, about what she could do with that money. Pay for Anna’s school fees. Pay for her university, buy her a house, keep her safe for ever. Money might not buy happiness, but it certainly helped...and the thought of finally having financial security, for her and for the one person she loved...well, after a lifetime of chaotic uncertainty, it was tempting indeed.
And so what if she married a man she barely knew? In her life, romantic love had been at best a joke, at worst a lie. She’d seen both her parents fall in and out of it with devastating ease, and her own brush with it had left her feeling more jaded than ever, still cringing in shame.
She didn’t want that kind of relationship. She wouldn’t take that kind of risk. At least Alex was honest about his feelings. That was more than she could say for Philippe.
So why not marry someone for the practical reasons? Alex’s mention of an heir had sent a surprising ache of longing through her. A child of her own...someone to love, who couldn’t be taken away from her. Family. She hadn’t realised she was maternal in that way until Alex had spoken of it, but now, her knees tucked to her chest, she could almost imagine a baby nestled in her arms, the kiss she’d drop on its soft forehead. She’d be such a better mother than her own.
A sound from the house had Milly stilling, and then pressing against the back of the chaise, trying to make herself invisible. From the corner of her eye she saw Alex Santos make his way to the pool; he was wearing nothing but a pair of loose pyjama bottoms and moonlight bathed the sculpted muscles of his chest in lambent silver, making her realise just how impressive they were.
Milly’s gaze rose from his chest to his face and as if he could sense, not just her presence, but her stare, he angled his head away from her, his body going still.
‘Couldn’t sleep?’ His voice was husky, somehow sensual, winding around her in the sultry darkness. Milly’s arms clenched around her knees.
‘How did you know I was here?’
‘You left the doors open, and I have good eyesight.’ He moved closer to her chaise, the fabric of his pyjama bottoms whispering together as he moved, the muscles of his chest rippling as the moonlight caught them. When he was only a few feet away, his body still swathed in darkness and his face angled away, he spoke again. ‘So why can’t you sleep, Milly?’ He lingered on her name. ‘Were you thinking about my offer?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted, because it seemed obvious. ‘How could I not be thinking about it? It’s the only marriage proposal I’ve ever received.’
‘I’m sorry it wasn’t more romantic,’ he returned dryly. ‘But I’m sure there will be others...that is, if you don’t reconsider...?’ He trailed off deliberately, and Milly swallowed hard.
‘I shouldn’t reconsider...’
‘But you are.’
He sounded so certain, and why wouldn’t he be? A handsome, powerful, wealthy man. And she was a plain little nobody. He’d probably expected her to jump at the chance. ‘It’s a lot of money,’ Milly said on a shuddery sigh. ‘And it would make a difference to me...and to someone I love.’
‘Ah. Perhaps the most powerful reason of all.’ Alex settled on the chaise opposite her, his face turned away, his gaze on the pool. ‘And who is this person you love?’
‘My sister. Well, stepsister, but she’s as good as a sister to me. Better. The most important person in the world, the only person...’ Milly’s throat closed up at the thought of Anna and she blinked hard. ‘I’d do anything for her.’
‘Except marry me?’
‘That’s why I’m thinking about it.’
‘It wouldn’t have to be such torture, you know,’ Alex said after a moment. ‘I wouldn’t bother you any more than I had to.’
Bother her? Was that really how he saw their potential relationship? And yet Milly felt reassured that her life wouldn’t have to change too much.
‘Most people want more from their marriage than that,’ she said after a moment, and Alex arched an eyebrow.
‘Most people,’ he acknowledged, ‘but not you, I think.’ He turned so he could look her in the eye, although the darkness still hid much of his face. ‘Am I wrong?’