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‘Stefan and Phillippe?’
‘Yes.’ Leo shook his head and held out his empty glass. ‘Get me another drink, Demetri. You and I have things to say to one another, whether your mother likes it or not.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JANE was alone in the gallery when Alex Hunter walked through the door.
For a moment she thought it was Demetri, and her heart leapt. She’d heard nothing from him since her return from Greece six weeks ago, and, although she’d told herself that was to be expected, she couldn’t help wishing it wasn’t so. She’d even tried to ring the villa on Kalithi, to assure herself he hadn’t been hurt, but she’d never been able to get past Angelena.
She was sure Demetri’s mother must have ordered the housekeeper to block her calls and, after a couple of knock backs, Jane had given up. Besides, there’d been no further coverage in the Press, so she could only assume that both Demetri and his brother had returned from the fire unscathed.
She hadn’t seen Alex since her return either, and that had been her decision. But, although she’d told him she didn’t want to see him again, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Lately, he’d accused her of making a fool of him, for letting him think they had a future together, when all she’d really wanted was to make her husband jealous. Which was patently untrue. But Jane had decided that, if that was what he wanted to believe, it might be for the best anyway.
If she’d expected he’d stop calling her, she’d been disappointed, however. Her hopes that their relationship might go back to the way it had been when he’d first come to the gallery to audit Olga’s books seemed doomed to failure. Now he was here. He had no appointment with Olga today, so he couldn’t make that his excuse. In fact, her employer had left over an hour ago, complaining of a headache and saying she was going home to go to bed.
She wished she’d taken Olga’s advice and closed the gallery early. ‘You work too hard for a woman in your condition,’ Olga had said, regarding the distinct swell of Jane’s stomach with a reproving eye. Ever since she’d learned her assistant was pregnant, she’d been wonderfully supportive. Even if, like Jane’s mother, she didn’t approve of her keeping the news of the baby from the father.
Jane had intended to close the gallery, as Olga had suggested. But then the crates that had arrived that morning had caught her eye. The carrier had opened the crates and left them to be catalogued, and Jane had decided to spend another hour with the canvases before closing up.
Now she wished she hadn’t. She wasn’t afraid of Alex, but she would have preferred to meet him in a more public place. If only Olga were still here, she thought, glad she was carrying a clipboard. It enabled her to use it as a shield to hide her condition from him.
The knowledge that she was letting him intimidate her in this way angered her. Which was why, when she spoke, there was a slight edge to her voice. ‘Hello, Alex,’ she said, mentally squaring her shoulders. ‘If you’ve come to see Olga, she’s—’ she crossed her fingers ‘—she’s gone out for a few minutes.’
Alex gave a careless shrug of his shoulders. He was a fairly tall man, but lean, his angular build not doing justice to his navy linen jacket. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t Olga that I wanted to see.’
Jane suppressed a groan. ‘Oh, Alex—’
‘I know. You’ve told me that you don’t want to see me again—’
‘I didn’t say that, exactly,’ murmured Jane, thinking of the gallery. ‘I just don’t think we should go out together any more. I thought we were friends, but obviously you wanted something else.’
‘You did, too, before you went to see your ex-husband,’ said Alex at once and Jane sighed.
‘He’s not my ex-husband yet,’ she corrected him, not really knowing why she bothered. Just because she’d heard no more from Demetri’s solicitors didn’t mean the divorce wasn’t going ahead. ‘And that’s not true, Alex. My relationship with Demetri hasn’t changed.’
Alex regarded her disbelievingly. ‘So why can’t we continue seeing one another? I thought you liked me. I thought we had some good times together.’
‘We did.’ Jane could so do without this. She wrapped her arms about herself over the clipboard. ‘It’s just—well, I don’t think it’s fair to you to go on pretending that we’ll ever be more than friends.’
Alex scowled. ‘It apparently didn’t matter to you before.’
