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‘Where did we marry?’ It suddenly struck Sasha at that moment that, if not for the fact that this man had turned up to claim her after the accident, when apparently she’d been found wandering by the road in a disorientated state a day and night after being reported missing, he could be anyone.
He looked at her for such a long and assessing moment that she could feel heat creeping back into her cheeks but then he plucked a small sleek phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen and handed it to her. ‘We married in Athens in a civil ceremony.’
She looked at the screen of the phone. On it was a link to an official press release announcing their marriage with an accompanying picture. Sasha enlarged it. It was her. But it didn’t feel like her. She wore a knee-length floaty silk sleeveless dress, cut on the bias and slashed almost to the navel. Eye-wateringly high heels. Her hair was teased into big curls and she seemed to be wearing a lot of make-up. Gold jewellery. An enormous-looking diamond ring. She felt a rush of exposure and embarrassment when she looked at the picture. And then she looked down at her bare fingers. ‘Did I have rings?’
‘Yes. The doctors said you must have lost them in the accident.’
She looked at Apollo. ‘I hope they weren’t too valuable.’
He gave her a funny look. ‘Don’t worry, they were insured.’
Sasha looked back at the picture on the phone. She was clutching Apollo’s arm and beaming; however, her new husband looked anything but happy in the picture. The memory she had of him smiling had to be a figment of her imagination. A conjured-up image.
She skimmed the press release.
Apollo Vasilis, Greek construction tycoon, weds his English girlfriend Sasha Miller in a private civil ceremony.
The bare minimum of information. Sasha handed the phone back, feeling even more disorientated. A million questions buzzed in her head but she could feel a headache starting and the doctor had told her not to overdo things.
She looked out the window and saw glimpses of huge houses set in verdant grounds behind tall wrought-iron gates or massive walls. Clearly this was a wealthy area.
Before long the car turned in towards a massive pair of wrought-iron gates. They opened mechanically and a man in little security hut outside waved them in after a few words with the driver.
Sasha stared out the window in awe as lush grounds opened up around them. The driveway led up to a massive courtyard and a two-storey villa-style house with steps leading up to the front door where a woman in a uniform was waiting.
Apollo got out when the car had stopped at the bottom of the steps and before Sasha could figure out where the handle was, the door was being opened and she saw his large hand extending towards her.
She had no choice but to put her hand in his and her skin prickled with a kind of foreboding, as if her body knew it would react in a certain way and she had no idea what to expect.
Yes, you do.
Her hand touched his and an electric jolt went right through her. Reflexively her fingers curled around his. Face flaming at her reaction, she let him help her from the car and as soon as she could, she snatched her hand back.
Her reaction to him on top of the fog in her brain was too much. She resolved not to touch him again if she could help it and then that little voice reminded her that they were married.
She stopped at the bottom of the steps at the thought that they must be sharing a room. A bed. Her heart seemed to triple its rate. Apollo was almost at the top of the steps. He turned around and she saw a look of something almost like impatience cross his face.
‘Sasha?’
She thought furiously as she climbed the steps, taking care in the impractical shoes. Maybe she could suggest they sleep separately until her memory returned? Surely he wouldn’t expect her to share his bed when she felt as if she hardly knew him? No matter what her body might be telling her.
At the top of the steps was the older woman in the uniform. She was a stranger to Sasha. And she didn’t look welcoming. Dark hair pulled back and a matronly bosom. She seemed to be eyeing Sasha warily, as if waiting for her to do something unexpected.
Sasha stepped forward and held out a hand. ‘Hello.’ The woman flinched minutely and then she glanced at Apollo and seemed to get some kind of sign because she looked back at Sasha and took her hand, saying in heavily accented Greek, ‘Welcome home, Kyria Vasilis.’
Sasha felt a light touch on her back that distracted her from the woman’s odd reaction. ‘You don’t remember Rhea?’
She shook her head, ‘I’m so sorry, but no.’
The women let her hand go, eyes widening. Apollo said, ‘I’ll show my wife around the villa. We’ll eat something light in a couple of hours, Rhea. On the smaller terrace.’
The woman nodded and disappeared into the villa. Sasha looked into the massive circular reception area. She felt absolutely sure, at that moment, that she’d never seen these marble floors or set foot in this place before.
Which was wrong. She’d been living here. She obviously couldn’t trust her own instincts.
She stepped over the threshold warily, and followed Apollo as he led her into the first of a dizzying array of rooms leading
off the circular hall. There was a formal reception room, informal reception room. Formal dining room, informal dining room.
