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Alex couldn’t hear anything other than the muted hum of Eric’s words; certainly not enough to discern the detail of what he was saying.

“I … can’t really talk about that now,” she said, her eyes lifting to Alex.

“I understand. Just what we usually do. Yeah. Why don’t I call you in the morning? You’ll be fine. Eric? I have to go.” A pause while Eric said something else. “Okay, yes. I know. I know. Me too. Okay. Bye.”

She handed the phone back to Alex and he pressed the red button to disconnect the call. The time it took for him to pass the receiver back to Alena should have been enough to calm him, and yet he still felt a force of emotion in his gut when he turned to face his bride.

“I presume there was no disaster?” His voice, despite the torrent of feeling he was experiencing, was cynically cold.

“No.” She bit down on her lip. Something had changed within his bride. She was worried. Or was she missing Eric? He closed his eyes briefly on a wave of regret.

This plan had seemed simple at first. But if he stopped and thought about it, nothing was simple about marrying a woman he really, really didn’t trust. And deep down, possibly didn’t even like.

Beyond sex, what did they have?

He lifted his hands to her hips and brought her towards him. When he kissed her, it was with the deliberate intention of wiping anything from her mind but him and that moment. Their silky bodies were wet beneath the water.

He discarded her flimsy underwear and took possession of her with a desperate hunger, made all the more desperate by a simmering anger. Against the edge of the pool, he made her his, and he made sure she understood. Eric – whatever he’d meant to her before – was in the past. He, and this odd marriage of theirs, was her future.

* * *

Sophie stretched her arms above her head. A week of marriage to Alessandros Petrides had defied every single one of her expectations.

Her body was relaxed and satisfied, and she seemed to be existing in a permanently exhausted state. Days were merging seamlessly into nights, as they seemed to go from bed, to the pool, then back to bed, occasionally pausing to eat a meal – just enough to sustain them and ensure their energy wouldn’t wane.

Her smile was enigmatic as she let out a low noise of contentment.

Across the room, in the act of dressing fully for the first time since their wedding, Alex stilled. In the reflection of the floor to ceiling mirror, he caught his wife’s image, and a tangle of dark emotions jostled within him.

He had married her to remove an impediment from his sister’s life.

But making love to her had made her something else.

She was now an impediment in his life.

No. He returned to buttoning his shirt, his face scowling darkly. That wasn’t the right word. She was an addiction and a curse.

He knew her intimately. He knew what she liked. What she craved. What made her giggle. What made her groan. He knew that she liked to fall asleep with her head on his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart. He knew that she liked to hum to herself when she showered, and that she was always slightly off key. He knew that she hated wearing make-up and loved not wearing a bra. He knew that she had a libido that matched his, and a curiosity for the sensual world they had been exploring together. He knew that she considered apples and toast to be a complete food pyramid, particularly when topped up with coffee. And he knew that she liked to keep her toenails painted pink.

“Why are you putting on clothes?” She asked, and the hint of betrayal in her tone brought a reluctant smile to his face.

He moved back towards the bed, his manner difficult for Sophie to decipher. “I have to go to Athens today.”

“Athens,” she asked, her big blue eyes wide as they startled to his.

He made a sound of assent, and sat on the edge of the bed. He cupped a hand over her head, stroking her soft, flowing hair.

“For how long?”

“Only the day, or I would have suggested you come with me.” He flicked his shirtsleeve, squa

ring the black diamond cufflinks into place.

“Oh.” She dropped her gaze, wondering at the sense of loneliness and dread that was already crinkling her contentment.

“Another time, agape mou.”

“Sure. Yes. Of course.”

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