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Outside the terminal a car was waiting and Xenon said something in Greek to the driver as they pulled away. They’d been driving for about ten minutes when Lexi realised they were going the wrong way.

‘This isn’t the way to your home.’

‘I know it isn’t. We’re going into Rhodes Town first.’

She’d begun to feel nervous at the thought of seeing his family again and the thought of a delay was only adding to her anxiety levels. ‘What for?’

‘Have patience, Lex. Just sit back and enjoy the scenery, and let me take care of it.’

Lexi glowered. There he was, doing that dominant macho thing again—and she was just letting him get away with it. And yet it was frighteningly easy to sink back into the soft leather seat and drink in the beautiful views which were flashing past the window. Before long they had reached Rhodes Town and, since Xenon’s driver was experienced enough to skilfully negotiate the busy streets, the car was soon sliding to a halt outside a small jeweller’s shop.

Lexi saw the glint of precious metals and diamonds glittering in the window and she frowned. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Simple. You’re missing a wedding ring, so we’re buying you a new one.’

‘No,’ she said desperately. ‘We’re not.’

But the driver was already opening her door and, other than creating a very public scene, what choice did she have other than to step out onto the hot pavement? How could she put into words without sounding stupidly vulnerable that she didn’t want a pretend ring. She didn’t want anything that was going to make an even bigger mockery of her failed marriage.

But Xenon was really in control mode by then, busy speaking in Greek to the shop’s owner who swiftly produced a velvet tray of rings—some plain, some embellished and all of them extremely costly, judging by the price-tags.

Did the man notice her marked lack of enthusiasm and wonder why she wasn’t happy or triumphant to have such an eligible man fussing over her? Did he notice her flinch as Xenon masterminded the whole operation, his gaze flicking over the tray with the eye of the connoisseur as he made suggestions about what kind of ring she’d prefer. But she couldn’t really walk out of there empty-handed and so in the end she chose the simplest of them all—a discreet band in eighteen-carat gold.

‘Try not to lose this one, darling,’ murmured Xenon in English. Picking up the ring, he slid it slowly onto her finger, his blue eyes narrowing behind the lush curtain of his lashes as if he had felt the automatic tensing of her hand.

As Xenon’s payment card was being processed, the shop owner leaned forward to admire the clunky silver bangle which was dangling from Lexi’s wrist.

‘This is beautiful,’ he said.

‘My wife makes jewellery,’ put in Xenon helpfully.

Lexi shot him a furious look, thinking that he was getting carried away. He didn’t need to play the proud husband in front of someone they were never going to see again.

The shopkeeper nodded. ‘You sell anything here on Rhodes?’

‘No. Only in England,’ she said, with a smile.

‘You want to bring me some pieces to look at? I’m always on the lookout for original work. Tourists like to spend money when they are on holiday.’

She opened her mouth to explain that her visit here was temporary, but once again Xenon butted in.

‘We have rather a busy schedule at the moment, don’t we, darling?’

Lexi wanted to drum her fists against his chest and tell him that she was not his darling. She wanted to tear the fake wedding ring from her finger and hurl it down on the counter, but she respected Xenon’s position within the local community, even if he didn’t respect her feelings. She began to wonder how on earth she was going to maintain this crazy façade for more than a minute when he seemed determined to get under her skin at every opportunity.

The walls of the shop felt as if they were closing in on her and, deliberately, she looked at her watch. ‘We really ought to be going,’ she said.

They stepped outside into the sunlight and Lexi was just about to give him a piece of her mind when a flare of white, incandescent light almost blinded her. A man dressed in denim leapt out from the side of the building and began firing off a rapid series of photos, pushing a giant camera in her face.

For a moment they were both too startled to move before Xenon swore at him.

‘What the hell?’ he snarled, making a lunge for the camera.

But although he was fast, the photographer had the element of surprise on his side. He sprinted off and jumped onto the back of a waiting motorbike, which began to weave its way up the street before roaring off into the distance, lost to sight.


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