Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Of course getting Alex to open up wasn’t that easy. He clearly hadn’t talked about his past before. Olympia’s questions about his childhood and the fallout of the divorce, as well as the fact that her mother was going to be their child’s grandmother, were met with long pauses and deep scowls and he had trouble articulating how he felt about it all. But at least he was trying. And if he resorted to sex whenever she tried to get him to dig deep and expand on his feelings, then that was all right with her, for now. Things were on the right track. They had plenty of time to finesse the conversation.
Now, this Thursday morning, they were travelling by boat to Alex’s private island in the Saronic Gulf. He might have agreed to the party, but he’d also told her that he was damned if he was going to have God knew how many Stanhopes invading his home and traipsing across his garden, so it would not be happening there.
As they docked alongside the jetty an hour after departing Piraeus, Olympia looked round and thought that she had no objection whatsoever to his establishing some sort of control over the proceedings. Who would complain about holding a party in such an idyllic spot?
The tiny, isolated landmass was ringed by a beach of golden sand. The water surrounding it shimmered and sparkled in the setting sun, a mesmerising combination of jade, turquoise and azure. Nestled in a forest of trees—at the top of a series of terraces that rose up from the beach—was the house. It was stepped into the lush hillside and had clearly been designed to take full advantage of the views. With its three storeys of clean lines and crisp angles that were held together by acres of sparkling glass, it was a beautiful, very contemporary retreat.
‘This is a great venue for the party,’ she said, popping on her sunglasses, shading her eyes from the sun’s intense reflection, as she disembarked with his help. ‘What a house. Modern yet somehow it blends in with the landscape. It’s remarkably lovely. Did you build it?’
‘I did.’ He lifted their luggage out of the boat with barely any effort at all, dumping it on the jetty. ‘Or rather, I had it built. Five years ago.’
‘Do you entertain here a lot?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘One, I don’t have the time. And two, when I do, I come here to escape the noise of the city. I come here for the peace.’
Alex alighted and picked up their cases, while Olympia ogled the bunch and flex of his muscles and went weak at the knees.
‘I can see the appeal of that,’ she said, giving herself a quick shake before they then set off towards land. ‘I always adored being surrounded by people. I was hardly ever on my own, but I suspect that was just so I didn’t have to think. A distraction from my inner turmoil, if you will.’
‘How’s your inner turmoil these days?’
‘Lessening by the minute. Enough now for me to be able to appreciate peace. How’s yours?’
‘I don’t have any.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Quite sure. You’ve therapied it out of me.’
Hmm. She didn’t think she had just yet. Still waters ran deep, but she’d get to the bottom of them eventually—for the baby’s sake, naturally.
‘Well, our guests are going to love this,’ she said as the jetty ended and the steps up to the house began. ‘Mine will, at least. I’m thinking we can hire a private ferry for the occasion. They could be greeted by fire eaters and raspberry and passion fruit martinis. That should get things going with a bang.’
‘I’ll have to take your word for it.’
‘Do you really not like parties?’
‘Not ones filled with Stanhopes.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. Someone once told me I’m tough and determined.’
‘So I recall.’
‘The parties I used to throw were wild,’ she said, recalling with a faint wince some of the craziest. ‘Once, in Rome, three hundred of us danced the night away in a room with a ceiling painted by Leonardo da Vinci, until one guy started swinging on a chandelier and we got thrown out. I didn’t even know half of them. I’ve been much more ruthless with my guestlist for this party. For a start, I’ve culled everyone who tried to convince me I didn’t need to go rehab. I can’t have people like that in my life anymore.’
‘No,’ he said shortly. ‘You can’t.’
At his depth of feeling on the subject, she bristled. ‘There’s no need to be quite so judgemental.’
‘I’m not. I simply meant that if anyone so much as dared to try and set you back I’d give them cause to regret it.’
Oh. Right. A curl of warmth unfurled inside her and she inwardly sighed with what felt a lot like envy. ‘Our baby is lucky indeed to have such a caring and attentive father.’
For a moment he didn’t say anything, just frowned up at the house. ‘Are you sure a party is a good idea?’
‘It’ll be fine,’ she reassured him, ignoring the strange ache in her chest and pulling herself together. ‘My issues were minor ones and I’ve been totally sober for months. And don’t forget, I’m pregnant. I have an added incentive to steer clear of the booze. But you’re sweet to be concerned.’
At that descriptor, his eyebrows shot up. ‘Sweet?’ he echoed, clearly appalled.
‘Well, perhaps not sweet,’ she demurred, thinking of the companies he’d told her he’d taken down and the people who’d crossed him that he’d buried. Back when he’d seethed with hatred and resentment for anyone with her surname, he’d apparently even toyed with the idea of ruining the Stanhope Kallis shipping and banking empire—until he’d realised that its three hundred year history and power that spanned the globe made it frustratingly untouchable. ‘I didn’t mean to offend. But your concern is misplaced. It’s good for my recovery to be in situations that in the past may have caused me grief. I can’t avoid social occasions for ever. Nor can you if you’re going to be married to me. It’ll be fun.’
He emitted a strangled sound that suggested he’d rather chew his own toenails, and she couldn’t prevent a small grin. ‘So who are you planning to invite?’
‘The sort who’ll appreciate fire eaters and martinis but wouldn’t swing from the chandeliers even if I had any. Assuming they’re available with only three days’ notice.’
‘I’ve arranged parties with far less than that. Even if people aren’t free, they generally become so. My reputation does have some uses. Any potential gatecrashers I need to be worried about?’
‘Such as?’
‘Business rivals?’
‘No.’
‘Spurned girlfriends with a grudge?’
‘No girlfriends at all.’
What? Seriously? ‘How is that possible?’ she asked, unable to keep the incredulity from her voice as they reached the top of the steps, circumnavigating the enormous, very inviting infinity pool. ‘I mean, you’re handsome and successful, not to mention principled and insightful. You have a protective streak a mile wide, you take your responsibilities seriously and you fight for what’s yours. How you have you stayed single all this time?’
‘Just lucky I guess.’
At the dry cynicism she could hear in his voice, Olympia frowned. ‘Is that really how you view commitment?’
‘Up until the afternoon you appeared in my office and forced me to reconsider, yes. I generally work ten hours a day, six, sometimes seven days a week. I’m responsible for eight offices around the world and a thousand staff. My company doesn’t run itself. It requires my full attention and always has.’
‘It sounds as though I’m not the only one in need of distraction.’
‘You couldn’t be more wrong,’ he countered smoothly. ‘There is nothing I need distracting from.’
‘Not even loneliness?’
‘I don’t have time for loneliness. Ask your brother about the pressures of running a global business and the workload. His company is ten times the size of mine.’
‘He’s also married with a child. He seems to manage.’
‘And so will I when the time comes. What was your view of commitment before all this?’
‘Oh, I’ve always been far too much of a handful for anyone to take on for any length of time. I’m only good for one night, two at the most.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he said as he opened the front door and stood aside to let her in. ‘I’m taking you on. Potentially for years.’
‘Only because of the baby,’ she observed, because it felt necessary to think and say it repeatedly. ‘That’s who you’re really taking on, not me. There’s a difference.’
Alex dropped the bags on the pale limestone floor and stared at her for one long moment. His dark eyes glittered as they roamed over her, and quite suddenly Olympia didn’t want to talk any more. She didn’t want to think about everything that had happened since Friday and why she was here. All she wanted was him.
Her pulse was racing and her mouth was dry, and it seemed too long since there’d been nothing between them but heat and desire.
‘This conversation is over, isn’t it?’ she asked, her voice thick with the need that she could see reflected in his gaze.
‘Yes.’
‘Will you show me around?’
‘We’ll start with the bedroom,’ he said, then grabbed her hand and led her up the stairs.
* * *
Alex didn’t get round to giving Olympia a tour of the rest of the house until later that afternoon, when she told him that her body needed a break and the sex bubble he’d deliberately created to avoid having to think about their conversation on the jetty popped.
How had she managed to stir up so much trouble for him in such a short space of time? he wondered darkly as he left her by the pool and went inside to make the call he could scarcely believe he was about to make. Caring and attentive weren’t words he’d ever use to describe himself. And as for friends, commitment, inner turmoil and work as a distraction, well, he didn’t tend to dwell on any of that if he could help it. What was the point?
He’d always accepted that he was better off without friends, and the investment of time and energy they’d require with no quantifiable return. Thanks to the breakdown of his parents’ marriage he’d spent his entire adult life avoiding commitment like the plague. He’d never been one for navel-gazing. His job required all his attention. And the last thing he wanted to think about was how comprehensively his peace was going to be shattered on Saturday night at eight.
Besides, he’d already come to terms with the ins and outs of throwing this party. He’d have to meet her family at some point, and at least this way he could ensure it happened on his turf, in a place where the air was fresh and he could breathe. He could knock on the head the catchup that Leo had been so keen on, and stamp out the niggle of guilt that he still felt over going behind Olympia’s back and calling him up in the first place. In the absence of friends and family he’d invite his clients, both current and prospective, and the useful acquaintances he’d made over the years. He would treat the event as a business opportunity. An occasion to strengthen his connections and therefore his company. Her mother was on the other side of the world, so that was one nightmare he wouldn’t have to face just yet, and with any luck, if Olympia was busy organising a party, she wouldn’t have time to keep trying to probe into his feelings about the past.
Much to his amazement, sharing with her the details of his life that he’d never shared with anyone before wasn’t as traumatic as he’d feared. It was only when she tilted her head and asked him questions such as ‘what were some things you liked about that situation?’ or ‘how do you think you could have handled that differently?’ that he froze up. He wasn’t used to talking about his emotions, and with her it felt insanely risky to do so.
Luckily, she didn’t seem to mind when he distracted her with sex, but he sensed he couldn’t put her off for ever. Alarmingly, he increasingly didn’t want to. The unfathomable urge to correct her every time she insisted that he was only interested in her because of the baby was growing too.
She wasn’t the only loose cannon in this situation, he thought as he brought up the number of Georgiou’s, Athens’ most exclusive, most discreet jewellers and wondered whether he could actually be losing his mind. She’d upended his life. She tied him in knots. And the truly unsettling thing was that he was beginning to wonder whether part of him actually liked it.
* * *
Olympia was on the phone to the event planner the next morning when she heard the rapid whoop-whoop sound of an approaching helicopter. Shading her eyes, she looked up to see it pass by overhead—a small metallic dot in a vast expanse of blue—and then turned her attention back to the conversation.
With money no object, arrangements for the party were progressing apace. The DJ, the florist and the pyrotechnician were all booked and on their way. Zander’s wife, Mia, a caterer with a flair for the original, was insisting on doing the food despite being on maternity leave, and the world’s number one mixologist was being flown in from New York.
Yesterday, when Alex had left her by the pool muttering something about a call, she’d turned her attention to how she might use the party to further her career. When he’d returned, whipping off his T-shirt and stretching beside her on the double sun lounger, she’d wasted no time in outlining his role in her plans.
‘I’m looking forward to you meeting Zander,’ she’d said, resisting the urge to climb on top of him and assuage the desire that seemed to be getting hotter instead of cooler. ‘You can extol my virtues and persuade him to give me the job I really want.’
‘What job is that?’ he’d said with an oddly inscrutable look in her direction.
‘I want to do what you do. I want to manage funds and investments on behalf of other people.’
‘Why?’
‘I had a lot of time on my hands in the three months I spent in the Arizona desert. I filled it by reading anything I could get hold of, and much of that was material that focused on business. I have no idea why that was the favoured subject matter, but as a result I developed a wholly unexpected interest in finance. I studied market trends and fluctuations. I even identified the sector I found most fascinating—hotels and real estate, weirdly—and devoured as much analysis on it as I could.’
‘Identifying the sector one finds the most fascinating and then devouring it seems like a very good idea,’ he’d murmured, running his gaze over her bikini-clad body and letting it linger on the parts she knew he liked best.
Olympia had ignored the sizzle of heat that encouraged her to plaster her mouth to his and forced herself to concentrate. ‘I have no idea why the idea of making money out of nothing appeals so much, but I came across a programme that allows simulated trading and discovered I have a talent for it. I’ve been working on gaining the necessary regulatory qualifications and am desperate to put what I’ve learned into practice. But Zander doesn’t think that either I or our clients are quite ready for that. He’s insisting I complete a full year drumming up new business before I can move on. A casual word in his ear, telling him how capable I am, repeating all those things you said about me on Tuesday night, wouldn’t go amiss. I was also hoping you might share with me everything you know, so that when the time comes I can hit the ground running.’
‘You must be mad if you think I’d enable a rival like that.’
‘I’m flattered you’d see me as a rival.’
‘Stop fishing for compliments. I’ve already paid you plenty.’
She’d stretched like a cat and given him her most seductive smile. ‘I’d make it worth your while.’
‘How?’
She’d told him and within seconds he’d leapt off the lounger and dragged her to his study, to share with her some of the finer details of his job. He’d described the speed with which she got to grips with spreads and returns on investments as remarkable. Her ability to correctly apply external events to market movements was apparently uncanny. They hadn’t got round to discussing client management, because by that point she’d been overcome with the need to express her appreciation, and he’d had her flat on her back on his desk a moment later.
Fifteen minutes after she finished her conversation with the event planner, Alex materialised on the terrace where she sat, looming over her like a pillar at the Temple of Apollo, and said, ‘You have a visitor.’
‘The helicopter?’
He nodded and Olympia frowned, sitting up a little straighter in her chair. In approximately thirty-six hours the island would be a hive of activity, but everyone involved in the setting up of the party would be arriving by boat, and she wasn’t expecting anyone else.
‘Who?’ she asked, squinting up at him and hoping to God it wasn’t her mother, who was supposed to be on the other side of the world, but with Selene, one never quite knew.
‘It occurred to me that if you want to put on a show on Saturday night, you’ll need an engagement ring. So I’ve had a selection flown over from Athens from which you can take your pick.’
Before she could react, he turned abruptly and gave a short nod. A man in an immaculately tailored pale grey suit, holding a silver briefcase, stepped into her line of sight. Behind him moved two other taller and bulkier men, both wearing black suits, sunglasses and earpieces. ‘This is Aristotle Georgiou.’
Olympia recognised the name if not the face, and as he and Alex sat down beside her, her heart began to beat unnaturally fast. A ring? From one of the world’s most prestigious jewellers? For her?
‘How very thoughtful,’ she murmured, trying to contain the dangerous thrills that were suddenly shooting through her.
‘Hmm.’
Aristotle Georgiou set the case on the table and unlocked it. When he opened the lid she couldn’t help but gasp. In front of her was the most dazzling array of diamonds, sapphires, rubies and emeralds she’d ever seen. She was no stranger to wealth and extravagance. Her mother’s jewellery collection was allegedly worth billions. But these pieces were something else. Stones the size of coins flashed in the sun with a brilliance that was blinding. The gold and platinum in which they were set had been polished to a shine that gleamed. Each one was an exquisite work of art that for some bizarre reason brought tears to her eyes.
And she would have assumed that it would be easy to choose one because it wasn’t as if the ring meant anything. It was simply for show and she knew that. So in theory all she had to do was close her eyes, pick one out at random and then put it on her finger.
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t move. She could barely even breathe. The only thought now banging around her head was, what if this were for real? What if Alex loved her and she loved him and this—the first piece of jewellery she’d ever been given—mattered?
For one electrifying moment the world tilted on its axis. The terrace beneath her feet disappeared. She’d never wanted anything so badly. To be loved and valued and the centre of someone’s world—the idea of it made her head spin like a top and her heart ache so hard that she was in pain.
But she had to get a grip, she told herself frantically, fighting for control before she mortified herself by blubbing. That wasn’t for her. She must never make the mistake of thinking any of what was happening here was for real. This relationship had been born out of necessity and that was all. Alex didn’t want her . He didn’t love her and she wasn’t the centre of his world. By providing her with a ring, he was merely doing her a favour. It didn’t matter, and she must not forget that.
‘This one will do,’ he said, his voice slicing through the thundering haze in her head as he plucked a ring from the case, evidently fed up with her inability to decide. ‘It suits your colouring and passionate personality.’
‘An emerald-cut red diamond solitaire set in a band of twenty-four-carat gold,’ intoned the jeweller as Alex unceremoniously took her left hand and stuck it on her finger. ‘Simple yet stunning. Very rare. An excellent choice.’
It was, Olympia thought, swallowing hard as she stared down at the ring, turned her hand this way and that, and tried not to like it too much. It fitted her finger perfectly. It sparkled like fire. She couldn’t have chosen better herself.
But she must not overthink his reasons for choosing it, which, although hardly romantic, weren’t random at all. She must not let herself be overtaken by what-ifs. Because if she did, if she wasn’t careful and started to read more into this than there was, she could find herself in a whole heap of trouble.