He waved a hand, bristling all over. ‘This...farce. Pretending to have lost your memory.’
Sasha felt confused. ‘But I’m not. Don’t you think I want to know who I am, or what’s going on?’
She shook her head. ‘Why would I do such a thing?’ But just then a pain lanced through the building dull ache in her head. She winced and put a hand to her forehead, feeling light-headed all of a sudden.
Apollo’s voice was sharp. ‘What is it?’
Sasha was about to shake her head again but she stopped for fear of making it worse. ‘It’s just a headache, the doctor said that they might be frequent for a few days. If I do too much.’
The recent outburst hung between them, the atmosphere charged, but after a few moments Apollo stepped back and said tightly, ‘You should rest for a bit. I can have Rhea bring some food up in a couple of hours.’
Sasha remembered the way the woman had flinched earlier. ‘No, I’ll come down. I’m sure I’ll be feeling better.’
Apollo walked out of the closet space, leaving Sasha with the throbbing pain in her head and feeling utterly bewildered. He thought she was lying?
She heard a noise in the main bedroom and went back out to see a young girl she hadn’t met placing her hospital bag on the bed. The girl looked at her but didn’t smile. She backed away, staring at Sasha as if she might jump at her, and said in halting English, ‘Your bag, Kyria Vasilis.’
She left and Sasha stared after her for a long moment. After Apollo’s outburst just now, it was patently evident that their marriage was not a harmonious one, and that people didn’t seem to like her very much.
Her head throbbed even more, and Sasha went over to the bag that had just been delivered and pulled out the box of painkillers she’d been prescribed. She saw a tray on a table with water and glasses, and took two of the tablets.
She explored further, into the bathroom, which was almost as big as the bedroom. A massive bath and walk-in shower. Two sinks. Cream tiles and gold fittings that looked classy, not tacky.
She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and sucked in a breath. She was deathly pale. No wonder Apollo had asked if she was okay. She looked a wreck. Shadows under her eyes. The scratch on her cheek. The yellowing of the bruise on her forehead where she’d bumped her head.
She felt disconnected from herself, which she supposed was only to be expected. But she felt as though didn’t belong here, in this hushed rarefied place. Where people looked at her as if she’d done something to them. Where her husband accused her of lying.
Why would he think she’d do such a thing?
She pushed that to one side for the moment, it was too much to absorb and think about.
‘Sasha...’ She said the word out loud. It still didn’t feel right. ‘Hello, my name is Sasha Vasilis.’ Nothing but a faint echo.
She didn’t need to have bruises and scrapes to know that she was very far out of this man’s league. But a memory flashed into her head at that moment of feeling effervescent. Of him, smiling at her indulgently.
She’d been so happy.
If anything, that memory only made her feel more disorientated. She spied the bath behind her and suddenly wanted to wash away this confusing chain of events. If such a thing was possible.
She ran the bath and stripped off, stepping into the luxuriously scented silky water a few minutes later. It soothed her bruised and injured body, but it couldn’t soothe the turmoil in her belly or clear the pervasive fog in her head.
Apollo stood looking at the woman on the bed. She was in a towelling robe that dwarfed her body, her hair spread around her like a rose-gold halo. One arm was on her chest, the other flung above her head.
One slim pale leg was visible through the gap in the robe and Apollo could see the smattering of freckles across her knee. And it made his blood run hot.
Damn her.
Damn her to hell and back.
He’d met her four months ago and he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since then. First of all because he’d been unable to get her out of his head and then because she had shown him who she really was. A manipulative, conniving, mercenary—
She moved on the bed and made a small sound.
Those pale eyelids flickered open and he was looking down into two bright pools of blue. So blue that the first time he’d seen her huge eyes he’d been instantly reminded of the skies of his childhood, before things had grown much darker.
She blinked and Apollo came out of his trance, suddenly feeling exposed. He took a step back. ‘I knocked on the door but there was no answer.’
Sasha sat up. He caught a scent of something like crushed roses. And clean skin. He gritted his jaw before saying, ‘Dinner is ready. I can have the food delivered to your room.’