She stared at him, eyes glazed.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘If there was any way this could have been different...’
He stroked her hair and Thea’s fever-bright eyes drifted shut. Her breathing slowed in the rhythm of sleep. He pulled over a chair and sat next to the bed.
And as he watched her fitful rest he made a promise to do everything in his power to ensure Alexis’s safety and to punish Tito and Demetri for what they’d done to her.
CHAPTER NINE
THEA WALKED INTO her bedroom and flopped into a chair, escaping the chaos downstairs. A flurry of party planners had transformed the huge lounge and entertainment area into a sumptuous ballroom for the evening. The home’s modern lines had been draped and swathed until they mimicked the art deco opulence of the Queen Mary—the perfect setting for Atlas Shipping’s anniversary celebrations.
She checked her watch. In a few short hours the party would begin—Christo’s crowning achievement, where she’d be expected to glitter and shine. Even now a shaky kind of heat trembled through her. But this wasn’t a hangover from the illness. It was something else altogether.
She’d taken a week to recover fully from what the doctor had assured Christo was a virus, and not an infected tattoo. After three days of being confined to her sickbed she’d risen to find that on the surface everything had returned to normal. Anna fussed about her assiduously. Sergei returned to work, taciturn as ever. The sun still rose, the night still fell, she ate, she slept...but everything was different.
It had changed as the fever racked her body. Christo’s voice had grounded her, soothing as the cool run of a mountain stream. Each time she’d woken in those days, he’d been there, eyes stormy green and intent, dark stubble shading his jaw.
She suspected he hadn’t left her bedside throughout her brief incapacitation. His gentle touches to check her temperature, to reassure, had melted her bones and left her wanting. Now all she craved was the soft lilt of his voice and his masculine touch. Because somehow what she’d shared with him had changed everything.
She walked into her dressing room, pulled out the gown she planned to wear that night and laid it on the bed. The slither of fear snaked through her veins. Christo had warned her that Tito and Demetri were coming. Here, to this home, where she’d finally found some measure of comfort and safety.
This place...they’d taint it. She shivered. Why had Christo invited them when he knew what they’d done to her? He’d promised her there was good reason, just as he’d promised to protect her. If only she could find the means within herself to trust him...
‘Mrs Callas?’
Thea looked up as Anna walked into the room, clutching an armful of boxes. ‘I thought I told you to call me Thea.’
Anna smiled, bouncing on her toes. She seemed so happy—glowing. No more the shy woman Thea had first met. Obviously her relationship with Sergei was going well.
Was that what love could do to a person? Since it wasn’t something she expected for herself, best not to muse on that.
‘These are from Mr Callas,’ Anna said in a breathless kind of way as she placed the packages on the bed.
Thea plucked a card from under the outrageous silver bow on the largest box, opened the envelope and read Christo’s bold script.
Wear these tonight.
She glanced at her choice of dress for the evening, lying on the bed. A floor-length sheath. Black. Restrained and classical. Other women might compete to outdo each other. Not her.
Though curiosity made her fingers itch. What had Christo bought? It wouldn’t hurt to look at what he’d chosen, would it?
She picked up the smallest box, stroking over the soft blue velvet. Jewellery? She eased the lid open and her hand flew to her mouth as the exposed contents glittered under the lights. Earrings. A twinkling confection of rubies and diamonds.
Thea lifted one and the chandelier fall of it trembled in her grasp. She couldn’t help it. Slipped them into her ears and turned to the mirror. The flash of gems dangled low.
Anna gasped. ‘They’re beautiful. Like drops of blood and tears.’
‘Tears?’ Thea’s voice cracked as she said it.
‘Happy tears,’ Anna said. ‘Why wouldn’t a woman be happy with a gift like that?’
Because it was too much.
And yet there was more.
Thea reached for the large box, tugging at the ends of the perfect bow holding it closed. Inside lay a garment of vivid red. She eased it from the folds of white tissue. Now it was her turn to gasp. A halter neck evening dress lined with satiny carmine silk lay inside. The whole of it was beaded, and it sparkled in a way that matched the earrings.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it...’ Anna whispered.
But Thea had observed what Anna hadn’t. The back of the dress plunged. When it was on, it would leave her exposed.
Heart pounding, she flung it onto the bed as if the fabric had burned her. How could Christo demand she wear this? Even with her hair long and free, as she’d planned, her tattoos would be on view.
Heat flushed her cheeks. Did he intend to humiliate her?
Anna’s voice intruded. ‘The last box, Mrs... Thea?’
Strappy sandals to match the dress and earrings. Perfection in gold, adorned with red and clear jewels.
‘Aren’t you going to try them on?’ Anna asked.
‘I don’t know if I should...’
‘You must.’ Anna planted her hands on her hips. ‘What man doesn’t want to show off his beautiful wife?’
Was that it? Surely not.
She glanced back at the dress, discarded on the bed. Like nothing she’d ever owned. Brand-new. Couture. All hers. She fingered the exquisite fabric, soft, yet heavy in her hands.
Anna grabbed the black dress from the bed and went to the walk-in wardrobe.
Thea took a deep breath and began unbuttoning her blouse. She’d do this—then refuse the gift and return to her first choice.
She
