The Greek Tycoon's Achilles Heel

‘How can you speak so?’ he asked in wonder. ‘As though she was real to you, as if you’d met her and talked to her.’

‘They say that nobody ever comes back across the River Styx,’ she mused, speaking of the river that ran between earth and Hades, as the underworld was often known. ‘But I wonder. If someone has something important enough, a message that they simply must deliver-well, let’s just say that I think some part of her might still be there. But she wants you to talk to her alone. I don’t really belong here.’

He frowned. ‘Do you mean not to come back to this house with me?’

‘I don’t think she wants me to. This is her place. You and I can have somewhere else. Keep this for her, to honour her.’

Her words fell like blessed balm on his soul. He’d been wondering how to solve this conundrum, fearing that the part of his heart that remained loyal to the past might offend her. But she’d understood, as she understood everything about him. He kissed her and walked out into the grounds, offering thanks as he went.

Petra watched him until he disappeared.

The grave lay quiet in the afternoon sun, with only the faintest breeze disturbing the branches of the trees overhead. Lysandros stood there for a long time, listening, but there was only silence.

‘Perhaps she imagined it,’ he whispered at last, ‘or perhaps you really can talk to her and not to me. We never could open our hearts to each other, could we?’

Overhead, the leaves rustled.

‘I tried my best. Do you remember how desperately I talked to you as you prepared to cross the eternal river with our child in your arms? But you never looked back, and I knew I’d failed you yet again. That failure will be with me always.

‘Petra was right to say that I honour you still, and that will last for ever. This place will always be yours and no other woman’s. Nothing can change that.

‘But there has been a change in me-can you forgive that, if nothing else? It seems almost wrong to find happiness with her after so much that we could have had, and lost, but I can’t help myself. She is everything to me, yet I still-honour you.’

He couldn’t have said what he was hoping for, but nothing came-no sign, no message, no absolution. Only the wind became stronger until it was gusting fiercely in the trees, shaking the branches. Autumn was still some way off, yet the leaves were falling, seeming to bring the darkness closer.

Suddenly he couldn’t bear to stay here. Turning, he hurried back to the light.

At the Villa Lukas the air was buzzing with the news that the bride and groom would soon be home from their honeymoon.

‘Such a party there’s going to be!’ Aminta carolled. ‘Everyone is coming-the press, the television cameras-’

‘Any guests?’ teased Petra.

‘All the most important people,’ Aminta said blissfully.

‘No, I mean real guests-friends, people the host would want anyway, even if the press have never heard of them.’

Aminta stared at her, baffled. It was clear that after years of working for a billionaire shipping magnate she barely understood the concept of friendship for its own sake, so Petra laughed and went on her way. After all this time as part of a film star’s retinue, why was she surprised? Perhaps because her time alone with Lysandros had caused a seismic shift in her perceptions.

As soon as she reached her bedroom there was a call from Estelle, full of excitement at the rumours.

‘You and Lysandros were seen together on Corfu, going out in a boat and driving through the streets. Come on, tell!’

‘There’s nothing to tell,’ Petra said primly.

‘Hmm! As good as that, eh? We’ll invite him to our party and take a good look at you two together.’

‘I shall warn him not to come.’

‘You won’t, you know.’ Chuckling, she hung up.

The next call was from Lysandros to say he had to return to Piraeus. ‘So it’ll be several days before we see each other,’ he said with a sigh.

‘Just be back for the big party next week. Then it’s all going to descend on us.’

He laughed. ‘I promise to be there. I don’t know how I’m going to manage being away from you.’

‘Just come back to me,’ she said tenderly.

When the call was over she sat smiling. Looking up, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and laughed.

‘I look like an idiot. I feel like an idiot. So I guess that makes me an idiot. I don’t care. I didn’t know there was this much happiness on earth.’

From the corridor outside came the sound of footsteps. Then the door was flung open and Nikator stood on the threshold. His eyes were bright, his face flushed, his chest heaving, and Petra knew there was going to be trouble.

‘Hello, brother, dear,’ she said brightly, slightly emphasising ‘brother’. But it was useless and she knew it.

‘Don’t say that,’ Nikator hurled at her. ‘Oh, Petra, don’t say that!’

He dropped to his knees beside her, reaching out to clasp her around the waist, and she had to fight not to recoil. Their last meeting had been two weeks ago, just before she’d gone to Corfu. Nikator had implored her to stay, upset when she refused, desperate when she wouldn’t tell him where she was going.

The same exaggerated look was on his face now, making her say soothingly, ‘You don’t want me to call you “dear”? All right, I won’t, especially as I’m angry with you. How dare you let Lysandros think we’d gone to England together?’

He reached up to seize her in a fumbling grip. She tried to free herself but found there was unexpected steel behind the childish movements.

‘I couldn’t help it. I love you so much I’m not responsible for my actions. I wanted to save you from Demetriou-’

‘But I didn’t want to be saved,’ she said, trying to introduce a note of common sense. ‘I love him. Try to understand that. I love him, not you.’

‘That’s because you don’t know what he’s like. You think you do. You believe what he told you about Brigitta, but there was no need for her to die. If he hadn’t bullied her mercilessly she wouldn’t have been alone when-’

He pulled himself up far enough to sit on the bed beside her, his hands gripping her shoulders.

‘He’s fooled you,’ he gasped. ‘He only wants you because you’re mine. He has to take everything that’s mine. It’s been that way all my life.’

‘Nikki-’

‘You don’t know what it’s been like, always being told that the Demetriou family were lucky because they had a worthy son to take over, but my father only had me. Everyone admires him because he brutalises people into submission. But not me. I can’t be brutal.’

‘But you can be sneaky, can’t you? Grow up, little boy!’

‘Don’t call me that,’ he screamed. ‘I’m not a child; I’ll show you.’

She tried to push him off but his grip tightened. He rose to his feet, thrusting her back against the bed and hurling himself on top of her. Next thing, his mouth was over hers and he was trying to thrust his tongue between her lips.

Frantically she twisted her head away, trying to put up a hand to protect her mouth and writhing this way and that to avoid him.

‘Get off me,’ she gasped. ‘Nikki, do you hear? Get off me!’

‘Don’t fight me. Let me love you-let me save you-’

With a last heave she managed to get out from under him, shoving him so hard that he fell to the floor. In a flash she was on her feet, dashing to the door, yanking it open.

‘Clear out and don’t come back!’ she snapped.

But he made another lunge, forcing her to take drastic action with her knee. A yowl broke from him and he clutched himself between the legs, stumbling out into the corridor under the interested eyes of several maids.