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‘I spoke to his nurse this morning. He’s stable. I’m planning to go and see him this afternoon—’
‘Can I come with you?’ she said quickly.
‘That’s something we need to discuss. But not on the doorstep. Do you want to come inside, Mia?’ he questioned, pulling the door open a little wider. ‘Or just stand there, looking decorative?’
Decorative?Mia frowned at his choice of word. Was that a good or a bad thing? She wasn’t sure. It made her think of a Christmas tree. She glanced back in the direction of the helicopter pad. ‘My luggage—’
‘Someone will take care of that and bring it to your room.’
‘How comfortable you sound, with all your servants,’ she observed wryly.
‘Hopefully the people who work for me are just as comfortable. I try never to forget I was once a servant myself.’ His mouth twisted into a mocking smile. ‘As people like you were so keen to remind me.’
My, how the tables had turned, Mia thought as she stepped over the threshold and looked around the entrance hall, trying to take in the opulence of her surroundings. Their roles had been completely reversed, she realised. He had a mansion, while she lived in a poky rented room. He was rich and she was poor and it was...well, it was more than a little disconcerting.
She had been gobsmacked as the helicopter had skirted a private beach, then hovered over massive, flower-filled grounds containing a huge blue swimming pool, shaped like a T. Her lips had curved with slight derision when she’d seenthat. They had flown over a modern house—a vast steel and glass construction bathed in different shades of blue as it reflected the sky and sea. And Mia had realised with a sense of disbelief that this was Theo’s property. Or rather, Theo’s estate, with its olive and lemon groves, which were obviously commercially farmed. He owned the lot.
And all because of her.
All because of her.
Her inheritance had provided this for him. The land he had acquired when he’d signed the wedding certificate must have financed it all. No wonder he could afford to look smug. But no way was she going to be bitter, because there was no point. She had turned her back on the old life. She didn’t need vast wealth. She’d seen the unhappiness and discontentedness it could bring and was happier with her modest goals. She certainly wasn’t going to start doing checks and balances, or comparing her lifestyle to that of the towering billionaire in front of her.
She didn’t even want to think about Theo, in those dark trousers which moulded his powerful thighs and a silk shirt the pale, creamy colour of raspberry yoghurt, which hinted distractingly at the rocky torso beneath. So she smiled politely, just as she might have done if she were being shown around a stately home in England, searching for something appropriate to say. ‘Mmm... Very impressive,’ she said. ‘The modern architecture works really well against this landscape.’
His eyes narrowed, as if her cool deliberation had come as something of a surprise. ‘Let me show you the rest.’
She shook her head. ‘No, honestly, that won’t be necessary, Theo. There must be someone else you can ask. I’m sure there are much more important calls on your time than having to act as an unofficial guide to me.’
‘Possibly, but I prefer never to delegate tasks which could be potentially troublesome. And unless your Greek has improved dramatically and as nobody speaks English as fluently as I do,’ he added, his eyes glittering with unholy humour, ‘it seems you’re stuck with me.’
‘Is your swimming pool really shaped like the initial of your name?’ she questioned archly, intending to goad him. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I saw a giant T. The ego has landed! Are there monograms on your towels, or woven into the rugs?’
But he didn’t take the bait, his lazy shrug indicating he was unmoved by her sarcasm. ‘My architect persuaded me it would be a good idea. The vertical part of the T is a lane pool designed for swimming lengths, which I do every morning, and the horizontal bar is the infinity part, which overlooks the sea. It’s a practical design rather than being done for reasons of status,’ he concluded drily before beckoning her. ‘Come.’
Slightly irritated by his imperious command and her mind now stuck in an annoying groove of imagining Theo swimming, Mia was left with little option but to follow him, trying to take it all in as he showed her around the sprawling villa. The huge rooms. The white walls. The bold oil paintings which added bright pops of colour. Butter-soft leather sofas occupied light-filled spaces and there were several glass tables on which stood exquisite pieces of blue china. Yet as she looked around, she found herself thinking this was no place for a child. Was that intentional? She wondered what would happen if—when—he met a woman he might want to make babies with and the thought upset her more than it should have done.
She still didn’t know if there was anyone in his life. Maybe she should ask him for a divorce—wasn’t it time one of them did that? That would be the most diplomatic way of finding out about his personal circumstances and might spur her into taking action to formally end their sexless union. She swallowed. Unless she was intending to continue in this strange marital limbo of theirs for ever.
In an attempt to lose her uncomfortable preoccupation, Mia turned her attention to the gardens, which they had just entered via a vine-covered veranda. The sunlit grounds were very beautiful and, despite her barbed comments, the swimming pool was even more impressive when seen from the ground. The glassy blue water shimmered invitingly as Mia tried to remember the last time she’d swum anywhere which wasn’t an echoey public bath which smelt strongly of chlorine.
‘It looks fabulous,’ she said.
Theo inclined his black head. ‘Use it whenever you want.’
‘Thanks.’
He introduced her to a cook who was doing something complicated with filo pastry in the kitchen and to Sofia, his housekeeper, saying something in Greek too rapid for Mia to understand—she caught the word for lemon, but her grasp of the language had always been superficial and her mother had actively discouraged her from speaking it.
But once they had mounted the wide marble staircase and found themselves alone on the first floor of the enormous villa, Mia turned to him curiously, hating the way her gaze was drawn so irrevocably to the sculpted lines of his lips. Hating even more her sudden burning wish to have those lips kiss her again. She hesitated. ‘What did you tell Sofia?’
He knitted his dark brows together. ‘I said we might drink some lemonpresséon one of the terraces once I’d shown you around.’
‘No, not then,’ she said, more crossly than she had intended. ‘I mean, what have you told her about me?’
Theo felt a beat of irritation, turning away from the question in her blue eyes, and continued to walk along the upper level of the house. He heard her follow, her footsteps light on the silken rug, but his pace didn’t slacken until he reached a suite which had been chosen deliberately because it was the furthest from his own. His mouth hardened. He didn’t want her accusing him of using proximity to his advantage. More importantly, he didn’t want to put any temptation in his way.
Throwing open the door of the airy chamber, he walked inside. ‘This is yours.’
