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He’d been adamant that Sophie didn’t remind him of Fotini and in that, at least, she believed him. The dawning horror on his face at her words had been unmistakable.
He’d said the marriage wasn’t a love match, but in the next breath had told her no one could replace his wife.
There was more to this, surely. Something he hadn’t explained.
But what right did she have to pursue it any further? Her heart squeezed tight in her chest as she faced the fact that she had no rights at all where Costas Palamidis was concerned.
But Costas was a hard man to ignore and those persistent daydreams, of her held close in his arms, kept intruding no matter how hard she fought them.
He was a devoted father, spending much of the day with Eleni. As far as Sophie could tell he stayed on the estate, dealing with urgent business by phone and email. Which meant she had to work hard to avoid him.
With every cool glance and formal smile he sent her way he made it clear that he didn’t want or need her sympathy or her company. That she was here for one thing only, the precious bone marrow which, if all went well, she’d be able to give his daughter.
Sophie blinked back the ready tears that were inevitably close these days. It was as if she’d somehow lost an outer protective layer that had muted her emotions during the traumatic weeks of her mother’s illness.
Now, without its shield, she felt vulnerable, scraped raw by the strong currents of pain and need that tugged her this way and that.
Her time with Eleni was special, as was the tenuous, but real relationship that was building between them. Eleni was a little darling, full of pluck and with a cheeky sense of humour that Sophie envied.
As each day passed, she had to fight harder against her feelings for Costas. Back in Sydney it had been anger she’d felt for him, and a touch of fear too, if she was honest. Then had come a reluctant fellow feeling, when she realised what pain he hid behind his iron-hard exterior.
And through it all a potent awareness unlike anything she’d experienced before.
Now there was more. A growing tenderness as she watched him battle his inner demons and focus all his energies on his daughter. The sight of the pair of them together, one so big and tough and capable, and the other so fragile, yet so feisty, never failed to wring her heart.
Her every sense went on alert when he came near. The deep rasp of his voice sent a thrill through her. And, despite his rejection, she knew she’d do anything she could to smooth away the worry lines on his brow and the stiff, unyielding set of his shoulders hat told her of the grief he carried. For his daughter. And for his wife.
Sophie sighed and took the path up to the house.
She didn’t understand all that he felt for Fotini but of course he still grieved for her.
What a fool Sophie was. Wanting to help him through the pain that only time could heal.
As if she had some secret remedy for grief!
Her own sense of loss was a tangible thing, a deep, still well of pain that woke her early each morning. Yet here in the Palamidis home there was peace too, a sense of purpose that helped her day by day.
She shook her head. This situation was fraught with emotions and needs she barely understood. All she knew for sure was that she’d stay as long as she was needed.
Darkness was closing in as she entered the house but it would be a while yet before dinner. She didn’t meet anyone as she crossed the ground floor and headed for the stairs. Evening settled like a blanket on the house, deepening its shadows, as she emerged into her corridor on the first floor.
Something made her pause, a muffled sound she couldn’t identify. It came from the other wing, where Costas and Eleni had their rooms. Sophie hesitated a moment, then swung round. If Eleni had gone to bed perhaps she was having a bad dream.
There was no repeat of the noise, just silence as she slowed her steps and stopped outside Eleni’s room.
Sure enough, there she was, tucked up with a teddy bear in a canopied bed with gossamer hangings that was every little girl’s dream. A night-light glowed already in one corner and a tumble of toys on the huge window-seat was testament to a late play hour.
Sophie stood in the doorway, one hand on the jamb, as she watched Eleni’s chest rise and fall. Her mouth wore a tiny smile and she’d hooked her plush bear up under one arm so it nestled beneath her chin.
Something caught in Sophie’s throat as she stood there. A fierce, protective surge of emotion held her still.
That was why it took a few moments to realise she wasn’t alone. The barest of movements caught her eye and she turned her head to see Costas hunched in a chair behind the door.
His elbows were on his splayed knees and his head was in his hands.
He made no sound. Didn’t move. And in the soft light she could almost have sworn that he didn’t even breathe, so still was he. But not at peace.
There was despair in every line of his large frame. In the fingers tunnelled through his shining dark hair, in the slump of his broad shoulders. And in the droop of his neck.
