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‘Time to see the house,’ he announced. His tone was brisk, businesslike.
Dutifully, Sophie followed him back through the long grass, up to the crumbling terrace.
‘This way,’ he said, and walked up to the door, fishing the keys from his trouser pocket, walking more quickly than he needed to. Briskly, he opened the front door of the house. The lock was stiff, but the door opened smoothly enough, even though the movement brought a strand of a cobweb floating down. He stepped inside, nostrils wrinkling at the dusty smell, and gazed around him.
Yes, he was right to have bought this place. On the verge of ruin it might be, but it was a gem of a house! Neglect and deterioration could not disguise the elegance of its proportions, nor the beauty of its interior. The moulding around the ceiling edge, the sweeping rise of the staircase, the dusty chandeliers suspended from the high central rose all testified to that.
‘So, what do you think?’
He half turned. Sophie was in the doorway, looking up and about her. She hadn’t seen the hall from this perspective before, and it was stunning.
‘It’s wonderful,’ she said. The words came out spontaneously as she craned her head, gazing upwards.
Nikos stopped looking at the beautiful proportions of the hall—another set of beautiful proportions were riveting his gaze. Sophie’s slender body was outlined in the sunlight filtering down through the high-set windows above the front door, making a halo around her hair. The exquisite line of her profile, the bow of her slightly parted mouth, the arched line of her throat, the gentle swell of her breasts all made his breath catch. He could not look away. Could not.
How does she do it? How?
Warning bells sounded inside his head, but he ignored them. Ignored, too, the warning words sounding there—be careful, be careful…
Instead he went on gazing, feeling emotion uncoil inside him as if from a long, long sleep of many years.
Then her gaze swept round and down, and back to him—and pulled away, breaking the moment.
‘Can you see this place as a hotel?’ he asked.
Her expression flickered a moment under the impact of his regard, then steadied, darting about a moment to take in the space around her.
‘Not really,’ she said slowly. ‘It’s just a beautiful grand house.’ Her brow furrowed slightly. ‘Who lived here?’ She’d wondered that on her earlier explorations, finding it sad that it was so clearly no longer inhabited.
‘A very elderly widow who’d married the owner and lived here for fifty years with him before he died. Her nephew inherited and wanted to sell.’
‘Fifty years?’ Sophie echoed. So many years of marriage! She felt her heart contract. So beautiful a house to live in, for so long! In her head burned, betrayingly, the thought that had pierced her the day she’d wandered around on her own. We could have lived here, Nikos and me…our own private paradise…
But paradise had not been waiting for her. Neither with Nikos nor without. To purge the traitorous thought, she made herself go on. ‘I’m sure it could be done up to make it work as a hotel,’ she said.
‘It has to be restored very carefully, with scrupulous period detail,’ Nikos replied, his gaze working methodically, assessing all that needed doing. ‘The historical architect who is to be in charge was to have met me here this afternoon. He’s been delayed until tomorrow. I’m staying overnight at a local inn. You’re in the only habitable part of the house.’
Sophie could only stare. ‘Oh,’ was all she could say. Dismay filled her, and more complex emotions too. Disturbing emotions.
He was opening doors now, looking inside the rooms opening off the hallway, pausing as if to make mental notes, but Sophie did not follow him. Only when he headed further into the interior of the hallway, beyond the staircase, did she follow him. A moment later she wished she had stayed where she was. Nikos had opened the double doorway to the music room. The covered bulk of the grand piano was instantly visible. He turned to look back at her.
‘Something of a find for you—though, I take it it’s out of tune?’ There was a timbre to his voice she didn’t want there. He was acknowledging a past where once the presence of such an instrument would have had her trying it out instantly. But no longer.
She spoke tightly. ‘I’ve no idea.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Surely you couldn’t resist playing it?’
‘I don’t play any more.’ Her voice was terse. Her mouth tight-lipped.
A frown creased between his eyes. ‘So much for the dedicated music student,’ he remarked caustically.
Of its own volition Sophie’s throat constricted. Parting with her piano had caused almost more anguish than having to sell the house. But her baby grand had been worth money, and money was all that she had allowed herself to focus on.
Nikos was looking at her, she realised. Frowningly.
‘I thought your music meant everything to you. What made you give it up?’
She could not answer him. Turning away, she stumbled blindly towards the baize door that led to the servants’ quarters. He strode after her, catching her arm to stay her. It burned like a brand and she pulled free. He caught at her again, catching her hand. Then abruptly he frowned, lifting her hand into the light and turning it over, seizing her other hand at the same time before she could stop him.
