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‘I’m stuffed from all the food on the plane.’ Anna flung herself on one of the squashy sofas in the living area off the kitchen. ‘This place really is amazing. So, long story. Start from the beginning, because I want to hear everything.’
‘I don’t know if I can.’ Milly tried for a light laugh as she poured them both glasses of water, handing one to Anna before pressing her own glass to her hot cheek. Anna looked at her, her eyes narrowing.
‘What are you not telling me?’
‘I haven’t even started yet,’ Milly protested. ‘I haven’t told you anything, Anna, obviously.’
‘You know what I mean.’
Of course she couldn’t fool her sister. Anna was ten years younger, but far too wise for her years, and she and Milly had always had a connection, even when they hadn’t seen each other. It was like an invisible wire, drawing them together, binding them tightly even when they’d been hundreds or thousands of miles apart.
‘You do love him, don’t you?’ Anna asked uncertainly, and now she sounded far too young. Milly looked away. ‘Milly. Why are you
marrying this man if you don’t love him?’
‘He’s a good man, Anna.’ At least she hoped he was. Only a good man would arrange for her sister to visit, surely? It felt like evidence, proof, but hardly enough to build her life on...which was exactly what she was doing. Because she had to.
‘How long have you known him?’
‘Six months.’ Which was more or less true, even if she’d only seen him for the first time a handful of days ago. ‘He’s my employer,’ Milly explained. ‘This villa is where I’ve been living as housekeeper.’
‘That sounds like it could be romantic.’ Anna’s forehead crinkled. ‘Falling for the boss...is it?’
What should she do? Say? Milly hated the thought of lying to her sister, but the truth felt too unpalatable to share. She couldn’t burden Anna with the knowledge that she’d done this for her sake. It wouldn’t be fair. ‘It is, a bit,’ she finally said. ‘At least, it could be. The...the truth is, Anna, we’re marrying as a sort of...business arrangement.’
‘Business?’ Anna sounded horrified. ‘But, Milly—’
‘But amicable too,’ she continued quickly. ‘Alex needs a wife, for, um, work reasons, and so...’ She couldn’t find a way to finish that sentence.
‘So?’ Now Anna looked horrified, as well. ‘But what do you need, Milly? What do you get out of this?’ She leaned forward, her eyes huge and swimming with tears, her expression beseeching. ‘Please, please don’t tell me you did this for my sake. For money. I couldn’t bear it if you did.’
Milly stared at her helplessly and then did the only thing she felt she possibly could. She lied.
* * *
Today was his wedding day. Alex gazed at his reflection, wondering if anyone had heard he was on the island, that he was getting married. Would any of the villagers who had known him and Daphne be waiting at the remote chapel where the wedding was to take place? What would they think of his ravaged face, his presence here?
He’d avoided Naxos since the fire, unable to bear the place where he’d once been so happy, and when he had come here only a few of his staff had seen him. They were tight-lipped and loyal, and so no one from his past here knew what had happened to him. All they knew, he realised with a tightening in his gut, was that their darling Daphne had died. Daphne and Talos. And they would blame him, because it was his fault.
How would they react when they saw him? Would they sneer? Hiss? Spit? He wouldn’t blame them for any of it. Nothing one of the villagers could say could be worse than what he’d said in his own mind. What he lived with every day. Two of the people he’d loved the most had died, and it was his fault entirely. The scars he bore were remarkably little punishment, considering.
And it seemed fitting, and somehow just, to walk among the people who had loved Daphne, to let them see his shame. To feel their hate...even on his wedding day. But perhaps no one would come to the chapel where they were to be married, a short distance from Halki. Perhaps the gossip hadn’t spread of his marriage; perhaps they didn’t care.
Squaring his shoulders, Alex turned away from the mirror.
He’d avoided Milly and Anna since their arrival yesterday, closeting himself in his study and missing meals. His fiancée and her sister would want some alone time, and he had no desire for Anna to flinch from his scars along with his bride-to-be.
Then yesterday evening Milly had slipped into his study and asked him to at least meet her sister before their wedding day. He’d said yes, because he realised it would be better for Anna to see his scars now and not in the church. But when he’d made an appearance on the terrace that evening, the setting sun turning the sea to a shimmering plate of gold, Anna greeted him without a flicker or quiver. Clearly Milly had prepared her for what he looked like, and he didn’t know how to feel about that.
Upon examination, he realised he felt an irritating mixture of gratitude and hurt, which didn’t make any sense. It was the same kind of ferment of emotion he’d experienced when Milly had hugged him and then stepped away so quickly—desire and disgust, hope and disappointment. He couldn’t blame her for her reaction, and yet it still nagged at him, like a paper cut that wouldn’t heal.
After trying to feel numb for so long, it all felt like too much. He didn’t understand why he was responding to everything, why the simplest smile or gesture made him feel scraped raw. It wasn’t supposed to be this way; he wanted, he needed to stay in control. Instead he felt edgy and irritable.
Even now he could remember the soft and pliant warmth of her body pressed against his for a few torturous seconds and his body ached with memory and desire. She’d jumped away from him as if she’d been scalded—or repulsed.
Well, tonight they would be closer still, but he would do his best to make it as brief as possible. That was the least he could do for his bride...perhaps the only thing.
Alex strode outside the villa, the bright summer sun hitting him in the face with a blast of unforgiving heat. Yiannis, acting as his driver, gave him a smile in the rear-view mirror as Alex climbed into the back of the car.
