‘I’m sorry if I’ve come at a bad time. It wasn’t my intention.’ She tugged at her hand but he kept it in his. ‘I’ll leave now that you have your property.’
Would she indeed? And no doubt she’d head to the nearest Press agency to sell her story.
Not if he had anything to do with it!
‘I’m afraid not,’ he murmured.
‘But I’m not welcome here. That much is obvious.’
He nodded, acknowledging her point. ‘True. But do you really think I’m so stupid as to leave you to your own devices?’
She opened her mouth, no doubt to protest. He cut her off with a single, abrupt gesture.
‘Enough! I want no more of your pretensions to innocence. You will not leave the estate until I have the whole story from you and we come to some…accommodation about our circumstances.’
‘Accommodation?’ She shook her head, the very picture of bewilderment.
Her dramatic skills had improved in the last four years, he realised. When they’d first met he’d found her amazingly transparent in her thoughts and emotions. Now look at her: an accomplished liar.
‘Of course, an accommodation. The situation requires careful…attention.’ His fingers tightened round hers as he smiled.
‘You surely don’t think I’d have celebrated my betrothal quite so publicly tonight if I’d known I still had a wife?’
CHAPTER TWO
TESSA’S lungs emptied on a whoosh of air as she stared up at him, towering over her. She’d known his engagement was a possibility yet still his announcement shocked her, leaving an inexplicable hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Her reaction was nonsensical. He didn’t have a role in her life. His relationships were no business of hers.
And yet he’d called her his wife.
The idea was preposterous. They both knew the truth: she’d never been that.
Tessa flinched at the travesty of a smile he turned on her. It was feral. His expression had a definite predatory edge that made her wish she were anywhere but here.
She could almost imagine him sinking those strong white teeth into the soft skin at the base of her neck. Either that or wrapping his hands around her there to squeeze the breath out of her.
She looked into his face and for a moment knew fear.
Then logic asserted itself. He might be furious, might even want to hurt her, but Stavros Denakis was a civilised man. His previous actions had surely proved that.
She wondered if he had any idea how tightly he grasped her hand.
‘You’re hurting me,’ she said quietly, staring back into his blazing eyes.
He blinked and released her. Instantly blood throbbed back into her hand and she winced.
There was a thud as the heavy ring dropped and she looked down to see it spinning on the table between them. Above it was her outstretched palm, dwarfed by his. Both bore the deep imprint of the ring. Her hand was trembling and she drew it sharply back into her lap, massaging it against the pins and needles that prickled there.
‘My apologies,’ he said in a toneless voice.
But her mind was already racing, processing the information he’d flung at her in such lashing anger.
‘You’re going to be married?’
‘Amusing, isn’t it?’ Yet there was no humour in that flash of a smile he turned on her. ‘I find myself in the unlikely position of possessing both a wife and a fiancée.’
She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment against a sudden swirl of dizziness. What on earth was he talking about? None of this made sense. Not to a brain numbed by shock and far too many wakeful hours.
‘I…don’t know what to say.’
‘Don’t you?’ His deep voice was taunting. ‘You surprise me. I thought you’d have it all worked out. Have you decided on a dollar amount? Or is it euros you prefer?’
‘Euros? I don’t understand what you’re talking about.’ She shook her head and the room spun, the edges of her vision blurring, making her glad she was sitting.
There was definite meaning behind his words. An accusation even. But her mind was too foggy to process it.
She should have stopped to rest in Athens before coming on to find him. Should have taken the time to sleep and eat and recuperate. From South America to the United States—an internal flight there and a lengthy delay due to some engine problem—then the leg to Greece, the chaos of Athens and finding her way by public transport to the port of Piraeus; finally the ferry to this island in the Saronic Gulf…Tessa’s journey had taken forever.
She was exhausted. The shock of discovering him to be alive and the strain of uncertainty had kept her too keyed-up to sleep even through the tedium of flights and airport delays. Now the long hours without rest took their toll.