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Sophie forced her gaze to meet his, and her heart kicked in her chest. He was so beautiful. So breath-takingly stunning. “What are you really asking me?”

Did she suspect that he knew? Or did she know that he suspected? He brushed his foot against hers beneath the table, enjoying the way her eyes widened instantly at the surprise contact.

“My sister was very young when she married Eric. He is ambitious. I wonder sometimes if he is making her happy.”

Eric’s worry that Alex would interfere in his marriage came to the fore of her mind. And yet what could Sophie say? To deny that Helena was miserable didn’t sit comfortably with her. Her breathing was shallow; her lungs seemed to burn with confusion. “Working in someone’s house requires a level of discretion. I’m there, but I’m not there. And I’m certainly not there to judge, nor gossip.”

“Gossip,” he refuted with a sharp laugh. “I am her brother. Eric is my friend.”

“Yes,” she nodded, but her eyes glinted with determination. “And I’m sure they would both appreciate my discretion.”

“You are discreet as a matter of course then?” He asked, thinking of what a necessary quality that would be in conducting an affair with her married employer.

“Of course. It goes with the job.”

Alex felt frustration licking at his heels. He had bet on bedding her, but not on finding her this fascinating. He had also not imagined she might prove so difficult to comprehend.

“You’re very protective of her.”

“Helena?” Alex clarified, pausing while the waiter served their main course. The delicious aroma of curries and accompaniments surrounded them and Sophie inhaled gratefully.

When he began speaking, she’d almost forgotten what she’d asked. “My own parents d

ied when I was eleven. Helena was four.”

“Oh, Alex. I’m so sorry.”

“We had no other family. My parents were very happy, but very poor. Our apartment was tiny and rented. We were evicted the day after the funeral.”

“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry,” she said again, for want of anything else she could possibly say.

He smiled dismissively. “We were put into foster care.” He compressed his lips and wondered why he was telling Sophie this. He had never spoken of that torrid time in his life to another soul. He had kept it out of the press. It was his silent shame and personal pain. Did he want her to feel guilt? To pity the woman she was wounding with her callous cheating? “But the parents were … let us just say they epitomised the worst of the system.” His smile was grim.

“I’m so sorry.” She seemed to be repeating herself, but the thought of two such young siblings going through what he was describing sent a shiver down her spine.

“We ran away. Or rather, I ran away, and dragged Helena after me.”

“What did you do?” She was transfixed.

“We lived rough for several years. There is a big gypsy population in Athens and they were kind to us. I worked for them.”

“But what about school? Didn’t you have school?”

“Not for many years. I didn’t feel comfortable to leave Helena for long. Though we found friends on the street, she was young and always very trusting. I lived in fear of her being taken.” Indeed, his face paled at the recollection of the worry he’d carried for so long.

“So you see, Sophie,” her name was a caress on his chiselled lips, “I have spent my life protecting Helena. It comes naturally to me to enquire as to her well-being.”

Sophie, in that moment, longed to confide her own worries in him. For Helena was not happy. She was not well. And no one was prepared to face the truth of that. The burden of being the only one who truly appreciated her illness was heavy to carry.

Only Eric’s plea kept her silent.

He was married to Helena, and Helena loved him. She’d chosen to make a life with him, and have children with him. Surely Eric’s wishes trumped Alex’s?

She swallowed. “How did you get out of that life?”

He noticed the way she’d deflected his question, but he allowed it to pass. His eyes assumed a faraway look as he reflected on that fateful time. “When I was fifteen, I broke into one of the mansions in the centre of the city.” He shook his head ruefully. “Up until then, I’d stolen wallets from tourists and food from restaurants, but never anything more ambitions. Those houses though …” He shrugged his broad shoulders and laughed, though it had been a desperate, hungry time in his life. “It was to be my first and last house burglary.”

“What happened?” She was, quite literally, on the edge of her seat. The thought of food was forgotten.


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