If she’d married Theo, everything she was and everything she could be would have been subsumed by him, just as her mother had allowed the essence of herself to be subsumed by her father... If she’d married Theo then.
But back then was not now. The past didn’t live in the present. The Helena of then was not the Helena of now.
Another rumble of laughter filtered through the window, closely followed by more tinkling laughter from two feminine sources.
Theo was on the terrace enjoying his evening with Elli and Natassa. She imagined them drinking cold white wine and eating delicious homemade nibbles, Theo holding court as he always did with his irreverent, often indiscreet, humour. A sudden yearning to be out there with them on this clear, balmy evening rippled through her. It had been a long time since she’d loosened up enough to simply enjoy an evening of good company. Three years. Not since Theo.
For all his faults, no one made her laugh the way he did. An evening with him flew by. A night with him...
She closed her eyes.
Lying in Theo’s arms night after night was the closest to heaven she had ever been.
What would it feel like to lie in his arms after making love properly...?
When more laughter, much louder this time, filtered into her room, Helena closed her window and climbed into bed.
Staring at the ceiling, she put a hand to her racing heart and thought again of the inbuilt inhibitions that had made her such a loner until Theo had torn them down.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘THE SCULPTOR LIVES HERE?’ Helena’s nose wrinkled with incredulity as she soaked in the sprawling beachside villa with its own private jetty at which the captain had moored the yacht. He must be one rich sculptor.
‘No, agapi mou. I live here.’
She faced him. ‘Since when?’
He grinned. ‘Since I bought it.’
A male member of Theo’s household staff appeared from one of the villa’s many rear doors. Theo did like his comforts. Thinking about it, it wasn’t surprising that he’d chosen to spend his evenings and nights in the luxury to which he was accustomed. The lodge he’d had built for her was huge compared to her flat, but compared to this...
It was like comparing a Chihuahua with a Great Dane on steroids.
The gangway lowered. Theo stepped on it and beckoned for her to follow.
Holding her laptop bag securely to her stomach, Helena stepped onto the jetty and did as she was bid. The mid-morning sun already blazed down and she rued, again, her lack of foresight in packing only professional outfits. It didn’t matter when she was in the air-conditioned lodge or on Theo’s air-conditioned yacht, but the moment she stepped outside perspiration broke out on her skin and her brain felt roasted. She hadn’t even had the nous to tie her hair back.
‘My chef’s prepared refreshments for us,’ Theo said casually as they left the soft golden sand of the beach and climbed the steps of the extensive grounds.
‘When did you buy this?’ she asked again.
‘Two and a half years ago.’
‘And your parents’ home?’ When she’d been with Theo, his main residence had been the magnificent townhouse he’d inherited from his parents. It made no sense that he’d bought another property in Agon less than twenty miles from the original one but Theo had always had more money than sense. He collected properties the way other people collected ornaments.
It was still strange though. For all his vast portfolio, Agon was his home. One of the reasons he’d wanted to build on Sidiro’s peninsula had been its close proximity to it.
There was the slightest tightening of his jawline before he answered. ‘I sold it.’
‘Why?’ Not only did it hold all his childhood memories within its walls, but it had also been the perfect location for a man who loved nothing more than to party.
‘It was time for a change.’ Then his mood visibly lifted as he bestowed on her a beaming smile. ‘Come, I’ll show you around.’
‘Have we got time?’ Her curiosity to see the villa was, she assured herself stubbornly, for professional reasons and nothing to do with wanting to see how Theo lived.
‘There is always time,’ he answered enigmatically.
She would not fall into the trap of asking ‘Time for what?’
Her attention was caught again by the man she’d seen emerge from the villa and who now stood at the top of the steps waiting for them. The nearer they got, the sharper into focus he became. It was Dion, the middle-aged butler Theo had inherited from his parents along with their house.
‘Miss Armstrong,’ he said in slow Greek, a twinkle in his eye. ‘It is a pleasure to see you again.’
Touched that he remembered her and that he remembered her Greek was a beat slower than someone raised here, she smiled and resisted the urge to throw her arms around him. Dion had broken protocol and given her a shoulder to cry on when he’d found her packing her bags and sobbing the day she’d known her relationship with Theo was over. He’d quietly and discreetly taken care of her, and she had never forgotten his kindness.
‘It’s lovely to see you again too, Dion. How have you been?’
‘Very well, thank you. You look like you need to escape from the heat.’
‘That obvious, is it?’ she said with a grin as she walked through the door he opened for her.
He smiled back. ‘I got the chef to make a jug of the pink lemonade you always liked. That should help cool you down.’
‘The air conditioning in here has done it already.’ She rubbed her suddenly cold arms as she took in the reception room they walked through. ‘Did someone set it to freezing?’
‘When
