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‘There had been a light rain during the evening. Normally the crew are quite good at making sure everything was taken care of. But with their hands full with the party and taking care of the guests, the patch of rain left on the deck hadn’t been cleaned up yet. You...stumbled a little as you turned away from the railing and you hit your head. We’re not sure whether a strong wave rocked the yacht but the next moment, you went overboard. Anyway, I called the police, they reviewed the security footage and started a search.’
She took in a long breath, the memory of those first few weeks, the frantic search for one of the world’s most powerful and influential men, and the sometimes thinly veiled suspicion aimed her way, all rushing to the fore once more. ‘The authorities didn’t have high hopes, even at the start. The current was quite fast and because we weren’t close to any land mass, they...didn’t think you’d survived...’
‘And yet you continued to search for me? Even when everyone else thought I had perished? Why?’ His piercing gaze drilled into her. As if seeking his own, deeper meaning for her actions. As if itmatteredthat she’d gone against everyone’s belief that he’d perished.
Although she shrugged it was heavy with her own emotions. Yes, it would’ve been easier to accept that he was gone and got on with her life. But regardless of how they’d come together, she hadn’t despised Zeph enough to readily accept that he’d died. And the searing abruptness of his disappearance had staggered her. Despite the video evidence, some immoveable stone of belief deep inside had rejected the idea that the formidable man whose name she reluctantly bore was gone.
‘Your iron will terrifies most people. It just...didn’t seem possible that you’d died just because you’d gone off the side of a boat. And if anyone could defy the impossible, it was you.’ Because the statement sounded much too emotionally weighted, she hurried to add, ‘Plus you were a very strong swimmer.’ Watching him use the pool at their Athens apartment every morning had shown her that.
Imogen didn’t realise she was wringing her hands until warm fingers crossed over hers. Startled she looked down.
‘I didn’t mean to distress you,’ he rasped, then raised her hands to his lips. ‘Your belief is why I’m here today,glikia mou. I will never forget that.’
She attempted an offhand shrug, which jerked a little, betraying her true, intensely ruffled feelings. ‘It wasn’t an easy situation. I can tell you that. Especially when unsavoury rumours started.’ Her small attempt at humour came away a little starched, filled with tension.
His eyes narrowed. ‘You were blamed for it?’
‘The circumstances of our marriage lent themselves to the perfect tale of a gold-digger doing away with her husband so she could inherit his billions. Nobody knew who I was before you sent out a press release about our marriage. I was the daughter of a man you had some dealings with that nobody in Greece had even heard of. The media had a field day. Without the security footage, I would’ve probably been in serious trouble.’
Displeasure flashed over his face, and Imogen felt something kick inside her at the thought that he didn’t immediately concur with what the authorities had heavily hinted at. That she was responsible for her husband’s disappearance.
‘Anyway, we searched for you for weeks. I hired a security firm that specialised in such matters three months later when it seemed the police were not getting anywhere. We’ve been scouring the globe for you ever since.’
Another smile ghosted over his lips, but it was the thumb trailing back and forth over her knuckles that made her emotions skitter all over the place. That made her own fingers itch to curl around his, draw his warmth into her. Because in that moment it struck Imogen that she didn’t remember the last time anyone had touched her like this in a simple gesture of human warmth.
She barely remembered the mother who’d passed away when she was still a toddler, and the parade of nannies her father had employed hadn’t felt inclined to coddle the child whose father had stated loudly that he wished her to be something she wasn’t.
‘Your tenacity paid off in the end. You have my thanks again.’
She breathed through the bite of guilt that scythed through the warmth.
As for the foreboding that tingled over her nape a second later, she had no remedy for it. But she would do what she had done since she was a child. She would battle whatever came and she would overcome it.
The sound of an approaching boat put paid to the difficult conversation and the unsettling sensations.
Imogen breathed a sigh of relief, then lost all her cool again when Zeph’s touch lingered for several long seconds before transferring to the small of her back to guide her towards their approaching guest.
It was mildly amusing to see the small, rotund jeweller do a double take when he spotted Zeph.
‘Mr Diamandis,’ he exclaimed. ‘I had no idea! No idea at all. Well, this is wonderful indeed,’ he added, his gaze swinging wildly between Imogen and Zeph.
‘Thank you, but I trust you will keep this news to yourself?’ Zeph insisted.
The man’s head bobbed several times. ‘Of course, of course!’
His gaze swung between them for another few seconds before, reminded of the purpose of his visit, he extended the large briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. ‘Is this a special occasion...? What am I saying? Of course it is! Would madam like to take a look at the selection?’
Zeph nudged Imogen towards the table where the jeweller had started to set out his collection but he answered, ‘This is for me. I require a wedding ring.’
The shorter man’s eyes widened, then a touch of regret darted over his face as he glanced up. ‘Had I known you were...’ He shook his head and cleared his throat. ‘I’ve brought a selection but I can make sure you see the fuller collection. Maybe I can arrange for that to be brought to you tomorrow?’
Zeph shook his head. ‘Show me what you have.’
The jeweller nodded enthusiastically and pulled out a black velvet tray studded with dozens of wedding rings. Zeph studied the array for a minute before midnight-blue eyes shifted to her. ‘Imogen? Which do you prefer?’
Her startled eyes flew to his. ‘Me? You want me to choose?’
His gaze dropped to her left hand. ‘Did I choose yours?’
