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Thea stilled. She knew too well the pain of losing a beloved parent before their time. The emptiness that followed. No matter what was happening here, she wouldn’t dance around his father’s waiting grave.
‘That’s why he wasn’t at our wedding? I wondered...’ she said, though it didn’t explain why his mother hadn’t been there either. ‘I’m sorry.’
Christo waved the words away. ‘Don’t be. He has time.’
A chill spread through her. The man was like a glacier. Frozen, immovable. A shudder racked her body. If he didn’t care about his dying father, he’d never care about what she wanted. She clenched her fists even tighter. The sharp slice of her fingernails branded her palms, yet the trembling in her limbs wouldn’t stop.
‘I’m not a cruel man. Although I had some fine teachers.’
His voice was gentle. Were those words supposed to be something like reassurance? Because she knew about cruelty too. Her father and Demetri were masters. She’d lived with it all her life and she saw its hallmarks in Christo. The arrogance, the superiority. The assurance that there was no other way but his.
‘If you’re not cruel, we can divorce.’
Her voice sounded distant, even to her own ears. The room folded in, its walls seeming too close. Her vision faded around the edges as her pulse sped to an inhuman speed.
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Not here, not now.
She breathed through the moment until everything came back into focus.
‘My father hasn’t long to live. Twelve months at most. So his doctors say.’ He looked down at his hands, now clasped in front of him. ‘I don’t have time to divorce and remarry. When he dies, I’ll grant what you want.’
‘Why me?’
She wanted to know why she’d been chosen as a piece in this game. Her father hadn’t told her, other than giving her a list of information he required about Atlas Shipping.
‘You were available.’
‘And you say you’re not a cruel man? If that’s all it needed, no doubt there were any number of women who would have thrown themselves at your feet if you’d asked.’
‘I need you, Thea.’
His words were rich and silky and they wound around her like treacherous ribbons, tying her to the spot. She should get up...shout, rage. But she couldn’t. Her skin prickled uncomfortably. She unzipped her jacket as perspiration slicked the back of her neck.
Christo went on. ‘You’re clearly a businesswoman, so I don’t expect you to agree to this undertaking for free. Your funds will be increased and returned.’
Freedom. At a price.
She could leave now—assuming Christo let her, and that was in some doubt—but she had little doubt that if she walked out tonight, she’d go with nothing.
The curl of fear gripped her again. She’d witnessed her mother being turned against by family and friends because of her choice to escape Tito Lambros. The man she’d never loved. Even as a child Thea had recognised her mother’s deprivations. Maria had always looked so thin and starved...of everything.
She’d never forgotten her mother’s words of advice. Don’t do what I did. Ensure your future above all things.
And if she left, where would she go? Elena’s father and Thea’s father were friends. She’d be returned to Christo and then...
No. There was only Alexis. Surely he’d done what he’d promised? Taken his money and left Greece?
The fear that he might not have began to throttle her. Dark visions chasing her and biting at her heels.
‘You’re thinking too hard, Thea.’
Christo’s voice dripped calm patience. He was trying to seduce her into a deal with the devil. She was trapped. Exchanging one silk-lined prison for another.
‘How can I trust you?’ she asked.
He relaxed in the chair, a slight smile tilting his lips. He saw victory in his sights—she was sure of it. She wanted to keep him talking so she could think.
