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“Alex,” Sophie whispered, wishing to turn around but not wanting to risk exposing herself to anyone.
“Sophie, it is our wedding night. Unless there is something drastically wrong, Eric will not interrupt us.”
“But the twins …”
“Are fine.”
“How do you know?” She demanded, her voice rising in intensity.
“Because. Helena would have called me if there was a problem.”
“Then it must be something else. Something important.” She thought of Helena, and a trickle of anxiety ran through her. “Please, Alex. I’ll be quick.”
He compressed his lips, his temper dark.
“Alena, please bring a phone to Mrs Petrides.”
“Yes, sir.”
The housekeeper walked back towards the house, and once she’d disappeared inside, Sophie turned in the water.
“I had no idea we weren’t alone.”
“We are alone.”
“Um, there was just someone here.”
“Alena and Harry are my domestics.”
“And therefore they don’t count?”
“Well,” he smiled despite his contained fury. “Yes, they count. But they are used to being unseen, and to not seeing.”
Sophie wondered at the impact of his words. Strangely, for she knew him to be a renowned womaniser, she hadn’t really thought of him with other woman before then. Now?
“I guess I’m not the first woman you’ve brought here.”
He felt a sense of satisfaction at her obvious hurt. It was beneath him, and yet he’d relished in inflicting the blow. “No.”
She nodded slowly, her eyes not meeting his.
“As I don’t doubt I’m not your first lover,” he said slowly. Pryingly.
“No,” she nodded. “You’re not.”
Hmm. Interestingly, the discomfort was not one-sided. He didn’t like the way his gut clenched at her admission.
“You’re my second.”
Alessandros was very still. Even his eyes didn’t move. She lies. She lies well. She is manipulative.
He didn’t even want to dignify her assertion with a response. Thankfully, Alena appeared before it was required of him.
She held the cordless phone on a tray, and Alex marvelled at the gesture, as he always did. It made him feel a little like James Bond when his domestics did that kind of thing. As though he was truly lord and master with bonafide servants.
He took the phone and handed it to Sophie, but didn’t swim away.
“Eric, hey,” she said, her voice unmistakably upbeat.
