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‘You never take it off. You even sleep in the thing.’
‘That’s because I have a problem with my personal organisation,’ Kelly said in a small voice. ‘I’m afraid I might lose it.’
‘If you’re trying to hide behind the “I’m untidy” act, forget it. I know you’re untidy, but you wear the ring because you’re still stuck on him, and you’ve been stuck on him for four years. What made you suddenly decide to sell the ring, Kel? What happened? You’ve been acting awfully weird all week.’
Kelly swallowed hard and fiddled with the ring through her shirt. ‘I saw pictures of him with another woman,’ she said thickly. ‘Blonde, stick-thin—you know the type. The sort that makes you want to stop eating, until you realise that even if you stopped eating you still wouldn’t look like that.’ She sniffed, ‘I suddenly realised that keeping the ring was stopping me from moving on with my life. It’s crazy. I’m crazy.’
‘No, not any more. Finally you’re sane.’ Vivien sprang to her feet and flung her hair out of her eyes in a dramatic gesture. ‘You know what this means, don’t you?’
‘I need to pull myself together and forget about him?’
‘It means no more cheap pasta with sauce from a jar. Tonight we’re eating takeaway pizza with extra toppings, and you’re paying. Yay!’ Vivien reached for the phone. ‘Bring on the high life.’
Alekos Zagorakis stepped out of his black Ferrari and stared at the old Victorian building.
Hampton Park First School.
Of course she would have chosen to work with children. What else?
It had been the day he’d read in the press that she was planning on four children that he’d walked out on her.
With a grim smile that was entirely at his own expense, he scanned the building, automatically noticing the things that needed doing. The fence was torn in several places and plastic covered one section of the roof, presumably to prevent a leak. But the surroundings weren’t responsible for the ripple of tension that spread across his shoulders.
A bell rang, and less than a minute later a stream of children poured through the swing doors and into the playground, jostling and elbowing each other. A young woman followed the children out of the door, answering questions, refereeing arguments and gently admonishing when things grew out of hand. She was dressed in a simple black skirt, flat shoes and a nondescript shirt. Alekos didn’t give her a second glance. He was too busy looking for Kelly.
He studied the ancient buildings, deciding that his information must be wrong. Why would Kelly bury herself in a place like this?
He was about to return to his car when he heard a familiar laugh. His eyes followed the sound, and suddenly he found himself taking a closer look at the young teacher in the black skirt and sensible heels.
She bore no resemblance to the carefree teenager he’d met on the beach in Corfu, and he was about to dismiss her again when she tilted her head.
Alekos stared at her hair, fiercely repressed by a clip at the back of her head. If that clip was released and her hair fell forward…He frowned, mentally stripping off the drab garments so that he could see the woman concealed beneath.
Then she smiled, and he sucked in a sharp breath because it was impossible not to recognise that smile. It was wide, warm and generous, freely bestowed and genuine. Dragging his eyes from her mouth, Alekos took a second look at the sensible skirt. He could see now that she had the same long, long legs. Legs designed to make a man lose the thread of his conversation and his focus. Legs that had once been wrapped around his waist.
Shouts of excitement snapped him out of his perusal of her wardrobe. A group of boys had noticed the car, and instantly he regretted not having parked it round the corner out of sight. As they sprinted across the playground to the flimsy fence that separated the school from the outside world, Alekos stared at them as another man might stare at a dangerous animal.
Three little heads stared at him and then the car.
‘Wow—cool car.’
‘Is it a Porsche? My dad says the best car is a Porsche.’
‘When I grow up, I’m going to have one like this.’
Alekos had no idea what to say to them so he stood still, frozen by his own inadequacy as they rattled the fence, small fingers curling between the wire as they stared and admired.
He saw her head turn as she checked anxiously on her charges. Of course, she would notice instantly when one of her flock had wandered from safety. She was that sort of person. A people person. She was messy, scatty, noisy and caring. And she wouldn’t have greeted a group of children with silence.
She saw the car first and Alekos watched as the colour fled her face, the sudden pallor of her skin accentuating the unusual sapphire-blue of her eyes.
Obviously she didn’t know any other men who drove a Ferrari, he thought grimly. The fact that she was shocked to see him increased his anger.
What had she expected, that he’d sit by and watch the ring—the ring he’d put on her finger—sold to the highest bidder?
Across that stretch of nondescript tarmac, that school playground that was no one’s idea of a romantic venue for a reunion, wide blue eyes met fierce black.
The sun came out from beyond a cloud, sending a spotlight of bright gold onto her shining head. It reminded him of the way she’d looked that afternoon on his beach in Corfu. She’d been wearing a miniscule, turquoise bikini and a pretty, unselfconscious smile.
