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‘Dimitri—’ How she kept her voice cool, her smile pleasant, she would never know. He looked—what? Guilty? Glittering golden eyes, a faint band of colour across those sculpted cheekbones.

‘You look so much better. Pregnancy suits you!’

‘Does it? That’s nice.’ She wandered further into the room. He’d been working at the huge central table, but the much smaller one beneath one of the open windows had been laid. Plates, a bowl of crisp salad, rolls, cold chicken and a ham.

The way he’d ended what had obviously been a highly personal conversation, judging by his intimate tone, the spattering of endearments she’d recognised in his native tongue, the call ending so abruptly at her approach, made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end.

‘Who were you talking to?’ She was making like a suspicious wife—but who could blame her in the dire circumstances she found herself in? ‘Irini, was it?’ Couldn’t wait to tell her the good news?’

She watched his features harden, the softness in his eyes replaced by an unhidden glint of cold anger. Noted that he didn’t answer her specific question directly. ‘I’ll never understand what you’ve got against her,’ he stated in a cool challenge. ‘Whenever she’s around you show all your prickles, close down, and when she tries to speak to you you answer in monosyllables. It upsets her. She would like to be your friend. And believe me, Maddie, she needs friends.’

So protective of the woman he loved. Her cheeks burning, she could have ripped her tongue out. She would have to watch what she said in future, especially when it concerned that woman!

She could tell him exactly what she held against Irini. Starting with that hateful conversation at that first party, when she’d told her her days as Dimitri’s wife were numbered, and why. But doing so now would put him on his guard, put her plans to leave him in jeopardy. Unfortunately, the time for coming out into the open was past.

So she simply shrugged, essayed a smile, and told him, ‘Sorry, I’ll try harder. She’s just not my cup of tea, and we’ve nothing in common. But, I don’t think we should quarrel about it, do you?’

Dimitri expelled a slow breath. He felt something warm enfold his heart, banish irritation. Did she know how adorable she looked? How the band of freckles across her pretty nose moved him to an unbearable tenderness? An almost painful hunger gripped him in a vice as he met those clear blue fathomless eyes, his heart turning over and swelling within him. Maddie, his wife, was carrying his child. Nothing would put that child at risk.

Nothing! For the sake of his child, for his child’s future happiness and security, with two parents in apparent harmony with each other, he would wipe her rejection of him from his mind. Forget it. Try to make their marriage work. And to do that, to forget what she had done and why, it must never be spoken of. That he was determined on.

He extended his hand towards her. ‘Come and eat.’ He waited, his shoulders relaxing when, after a tension-filled moment, she gave him her hand. A ghost of a frown darkened his brow as, slightly ahead of her, he led her towards the small table beneath the window. It seemed as though she was falling in with his earlier stated wishes. Making a fresh start, burying the past, wiping the word divorce from her vocabulary.

Why? Should it matter? He knew his reasons, knew they were sound. Was the news of her pregnancy her reason? Had it settled her, made her earlier behaviour appear as the nonsense it was? Or had his promise that she would want for nothing, that whatever her heart desired would be hers, been the deciding factor?

The former, he devoutly hoped. Until she’d left him for no good reason that he’d been able to come up with apart from a fat divorce settlement, he would have said she didn’t possess an avaricious bone in her body. And yet how could he know what went on inside that lovely head of hers?

The time was past when he could have done what he’d brought her here to do—insist that she reveal her true motivations behind her desire for a divorce. Such an insistence would be counter-productive in the new regime he’d set up. No arguments about that!

No looking back.

Slate wiped clean.

Fresh start.

Seeing her seated, he helped her to a little of everything on the table, slid the plate in front of her and sat opposite, his own appetite—roused and ravaging after the news that he was to be a father—completely gone. Was it pride that kept him from acknowledging that he wanted her to stay with him, make their marriage work, because he was important to her?

He refused to dwell on that possibility. She had wronged him, shamed him, but he was now prepared to overlook that. And whatever her reasons for her seeming compliance to his wishes it was a step in the right direction—a step towards what he must have: a stable relationship for the sake of their unborn child.

He had endured a cold and loveless childhood following the deaths of his parents when he’d been too young to properly remember them, so he was determined that his child would be surrounded by the permanence of parental love.

And no way would a child of his suffer the trauma of a broken home, a marriage gone wrong, with all the attendant recriminations and back-biting, the divided loyalties that would torment any child shunted between two bitter parents.

Watching her eat a little of the food and push the remainder around her plate, he wondered how far her compliance with his wishes would take her.

As far as the marriage bed?

And did he really want that?

The answer, he knew, to his annoyance, was yes. Despite her past behaviour, the shaming of his honour, he wanted her. Even more than when he’d first encountered her in Cristos’s courtyard.

And that was saying something!

CHAPTER EIGHT

DIMITRI rose from the table as if propelled by a rocket, pushed back his chair and, sounding almost painfully polite, said, ‘You must rest this afternoon, Maddie. I insist. It has been a traumatic morning.’ One dark brow elevated as she stubbornly remained seated. His mouth flattened. ‘Come, I will see you to your room.’

Leaving her barely touched meal, Maddie got to her feet with extreme reluctance. An hour or two of solitude, the opportunity to at least try to relax and consider her situation calmly, had its glaringly obvious advantages. But, perversely, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her meekly fall in with all his orders. He had managed to demean her until she felt lower than the ground she walked on. Was she to have no pride left whatsoever?

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