Once at the refrigerator, she grabbed some bread, cheese and milk—ate in the comforting darkness because she didn’t care what she put into her stomach so long as that crippling inertia didn’t steal over her again.
The apartment lay silent. Sergei and Anna were sensibly asleep. Christo was still out. It was better that she didn’t see him. Her emotions regarding the man were a tangle she couldn’t sort through. Simpler to avoid it. Anyhow, they’d be returning to Greece soon. Back to the numbing routine of Christo working long hours and her futile efforts to find Alexis.
She needed someone with different skills. Perhaps Sergei would help? Anna had told her he’d been in the Special Forces in his home country. But how to convince a man as immovable as a hunk of concrete to assist her?
Thea was contemplating any number of ways to approach Sergei on the way back to her room. No option stood out. But as she padded down the hallway noises stopped her. A rustle, a smothered giggle...
She moved towards the sound, beckoned by the soft, golden glow coming from the direction of Christo’s study. The door was slightly ajar. She heard whispers. Male and female. The clatter of pens falling. She walked faster. Heart pounding. Drawn towards the light with a sense of dread.
She’s heard enough to recognise that murmured intimacies were being exchanged. They didn’t have a real marriage, but surely Christo wouldn’t bring someone back here? After he’d touched her? So clearly displayed his desire? Though she knew men lied about fidelity all the time. Men like her father. And where else would Christo go if he didn’t want to be caught and their marriage exposed as a fraud?
She didn’t understand why the thought seized her with a sense of humiliation as she approached the door.
She heard a breathy sigh, a male groan—‘Agapi mou...’—and her humiliation exploded in a screaming hot conflagration which roared through her. She couldn’t see anything through the crack of the door, but to hell with Christo bringing someone to the apartment after demanding that theirs must appear like a real marriage in all respects. How dared he? After kissing her? Making her feel?
She flung the door back. Stormed in. Wild. Not caring what she’d find.
Wide eyes. Gasps of shock. The scramble of two people caught out. Anna was on Christo’s desk, her hair a tumbled mess, her skirt hitched high on her thighs. And Sergei was standing there. Stripped to the waist.
‘Mrs Callas—I can explain,’ Sergei said as Anna clutched at her open blouse.
Thea held up her hand to stop him. What she’d interrupted had only just started. Relief washed over her like a warm shower—to be quickly replaced by a calculated resolve.
Sergei didn’t attempt more excuses, only glanced down at Anna, cupped her jaw in what seemed like a moment of reassurance. But that look... Tight with concern and brimming with something else. Softness, intent... She recognised it instantly. Love.
In that moment Thea was assailed by two thoughts. The first was a terrifying craving for Christo to look at her with the same expression Sergei had given Anna. The second was the realisation that she now had the means to make her bodyguard do anything she desired.
‘No need for explanations,’ she said, her voice firm and hard. ‘We won’t mention this again. But I want you to find Alexis Anastos for me. And, Sergei...? You will not tell Mr Callas.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘IF HE’S STILL in Greece he remains well hidden, even though his bank accounts are frozen.’
Thea stiffened at the sound of Sergei’s voice as he approached her where she sat on the private terrace under an ancient olive tree. She put down her coffee. The dappled morning light shifted over an uneaten breakfast. Despite Sergei’s efforts since they’d returned to Athens, Alexis hadn’t been found. Reason told her to remain calm. But the clawing fear that he was out there alone, without money or help, tore in her abdomen.
‘Thank you,’ she said, as Sergei positioned himself at the end of the table. ‘Do you think he might have left the country?’
‘Anything’s possible.’
She read between his words. Crossing borders illegally cost money. And right now Alexis had nothing. That meant he needed her help.
‘Keep looking.’
Sergei cleared his throat. ‘I’m not comfortable about this.’
She picked up her coffee and took a long sip, peering at him over the rim of the cup. They’d had this discussion many times before Sergei had finally agreed to help her.
‘I wasn’t comfortable about finding you half-naked in my husband’s office. Let’s both bear it as best we can—for Anna’s sake.’
His expression didn’t change. He stood inhumanly still, legs apart, hands behind his back, staring blankly over her head. ‘Of course.’
‘Remember—I’ll keep your secrets if you keep mine.’
Thea loathed this. Loathed the things she’d said to garner his cooperation. It was clear he’d do anything to protect the woman he loved, so that was whose job she’d threatened. He didn’t need to know she’d never tell Christo. In fact Anna was turning into more of a friend than an employee. But Thea was trying to protect someone she loved too. And she’d go to any lengths—just like Sergei would.
‘Excellent.’ She slid a piece of paper towards him. ‘Now that’s settled, today I want to go here.’
That simple act, making her request, led to the slow unknotting of the muscles in her neck. Sergei couldn’t object, and here was a way to relieve some of the tension winding her so tight she felt her bones were bound to splinter.
Sergei picked up the note, looked at it, at her and then back at the note. A muscle ticked in his cheek. ‘Mr Callas was specific in his instructions when he engaged me, and—’
‘Again, there’s no need for Christo to know.’ Anger bubbled inside her, hot and