It took a few beats for Helena’s brain to compute.
This was revenge. She didn’t know how Theo’s commissioning her to design a house for him could be a form of revenge but she knew it was.
She’d unwittingly humiliated him. She’d only learned after the fact that he’d stood at the cathedral’s altar for an hour before telling their guests the wedding was off. His colossal ego meant he hadn’t believed she no longer wanted to marry him until he could no longer deny it.
‘I’m not doing it.’
‘Yes, you are.’
‘No.’ She shook her head for emphasis. ‘I’m not. No amount of money is worth the grief working for you would give me.’
His hand went to his chest again and he blinked his eyes in puppy-dog fashion. ‘You keep wounding me, agapi mou. I am offering you the olive branch but you throw it back at me.’
She snorted. ‘Oh, please.’ She emphasised the P. ‘I never wanted an olive branch and even if I did, this isn’t one. This is some Machiavellian scheme you’ve dreamed up. I’m not stupid. You’ve gone to an awful lot of trouble...’
‘Remember those plans we made when we were on Sidiro? When I inherited the peninsula you would design the home for it, the home in which we would raise our children?’
Sidiro was the tiny Greek island she’d spent the most magical month of her life on. She’d spent three years trying to forget its existence. To remember always made her heart feel as if it were being shredded.
‘Well, my sweet temptress,’ he continued, ‘the peninsula is mine.’
There was a piercing in her heart at the realisation that this meant his grandmother had died. Another loss for a man who’d lost both his parents within three months of each other at the tender age of eighteen.
Helena pulled at her hair and tried desperately to get air into her lungs, trying even harder to stop the room spinning around her as another thought struck her.
If he planned to build a house on the peninsula then it must mean he planned to marry. The peninsula meant too much to him for it to be used for anything else.
So that was how he intended to get his revenge. By getting his ex-fiancée to design the home he would share with his future wife.
CHAPTER THREE
THEO’S ENGAGEMENT MUST have been a whirlwind romance the way theirs had been. Only a month ago Helena had seen a photo of him and his newest clothes horse attending one of those glamorous society parties he enjoyed so much, his famous luxury-underwear model lover not wearing much in the way of actual clothes, thus guaranteeing them front-page coverage on most of the tabloids.
She supposed it had been inevitable that he’d fall for one of the many, many women he’d cavorted with these past three years. She hoped the poor woman knew what she was letting herself in for.
As for Helena...
She knew exactly what she’d be letting herself in for if she took the commission.
‘I’m sorry about your grandmother,’ she said in as clear a voice as she could manage.
‘What are you sorry about?’
That stumped her. Theo must have read her mind, for his eyes gleamed. ‘Have no worries there, agapi mou. My grandmother is alive and kicking.’
‘Good.’ Her relief was instant. She’d only met Theo’s grandmother a couple of times but had liked her very much.
‘She’s gifted the peninsula to me.’
‘Good for you but I’m not taking the job.’
‘Do I have to remind you that it’s not just you who will benefit financially?’
Helena pressed her back against the front door, the change in his tone sending needles digging into her skin and making her limbs shaky.
‘Staffords,’ he added casually, referring to the company she worked for. ‘I have seen the accounts. Your company is struggling for commissions.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘It’s struggling for commissions worth anything. Your offices are expensive. There have been whispers about redundancies.’ He tilted his head. ‘I think your job will be safe for now. The other junior architect and the clerical staff though...’ He made a tutting sound. ‘They will be gone by the end of the summer. If things continue as they are, the company will fold by Christmas and you will be out of a job.’
Feeling faint, she pressed herself harder against the door. ‘How do you know all this?’
Every word he’d said was true. Staffords was in serious trouble. If they went under, she would go under too—Helena had debts up to her eyeballs and lived payday to payday.
He winked. ‘Details.’
‘If you wink at me again I’m going to slap you.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Promises, promises. Take the commission and you can slap me whenever you want.’
‘Your face would be swollen by the end of the first day.’
‘Then it will match another part of my anatomy.’
How could he utter such innuendoes when he was going to marry someone else?
But then, Theo had always been a flirt, she remembered bitterly. It had driven her mad the way women threw themselves at him. He’d taken their attention as his due. She’d had no cause to think he’d cheated on her—in the three months they were together he’d never let her out of his sight—but deep down had lived the fear that if she let him out of her sight, he would happily avail himself of one of them. Her fears had played out when, mere weeks after she’d left him, he’d taken up with his first model. The first of many. All identikit. All tall, skinny as rakes, blonde, beautiful and accomplished in the art of draping themselves over him. The total opposite of her: short, buxom, dark haired, with average looks and averse to public displays of affection.
Oblivious to her dark thoughts and not giving her the chance to retort, he continued. ‘Take the commission, and both you and the company that supported you throughout your training will be richly rewarded. The prestige of designing a home for me—and let us be clear, this will be no ordinary
