CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
P ORTIA LET HERSELF into the Mayfair house, dropping her keys on a table in the entrance and toeing off her shoes.
That was better. She rolled her shoulders, stiff after a day at work. Lex was right, reducing her hours from next week would make a welcome change.
He’d been as good as his word since that day two months ago when she’d shared her fears for the baby. Nothing had been too much trouble for him. He’d changed his plans so they could stay in London through the pregnancy because the city was familiar to her and she trusted her doctor.
They’d agreed to move to Greece after the baby was born and though she had some trepidation about moving to a new country and learning the language fluently, she knew it was the right thing. In Greece their child would have family, more than just Portia and Lex. She wanted their baby to grow up as part of a large, loving network.
She padded down the black-and-white-tiled hallway to the vast kitchen and family room that looked out onto the garden. Flicking on the kettle, she got out the tea, settling on a stool while the water boiled.
To her surprise Lex hadn’t tried to persuade her to stop work as the weeks passed and her fears of miscarriage abated.
Portia couldn’t fully explain why she clung to her job. It wasn’t as if her modest wage made a difference to their income and she didn’t plan to return to the job after the birth. She still hoped, one day, to pursue her studies.
Maybe it was just a way to keep her mind off those occasional doubts.
She shook her head and got up to make the tea.
Surely it was ungrateful, that niggle of disappointment she still felt as the date for their wedding approached.
Lex’s family was flying out from Greece next week. She had the dress. They had a venue. Marrying Lex was the right thing. Solicitous, he’d even suggested they wait a couple of extra months before marrying so she didn’t feel rushed.
Her husband-to-be was considerate, generous and thoughtful. Their sex life was phenomenal. Any impartial observer would declare her a lucky woman. And she was. The fact that he didn’t love her shouldn’t matter.
She remembered his heartfelt declaration at nineteen, and how easy it had been to tell him she loved him too.
But that man had gone. Despite Lex’s physical passion and solicitude, it was love for their child that motivated him. He’d made it clear that was his priority, agreeing more than once that they’d moved beyond romance.
That had stopped her blurting out her own feelings. She didn’t want his pity.
She firmed her lips and carried the steaming mug across to a comfortable sofa.
Life isn’t a fairytale. Better to have the man you love, his thoughtfulness, generosity and passion, than not have him at all.
Yet despite the glow of pregnancy and Lex’s passionate lovemaking, she felt restless. As if the walls were closing in around her.
Instinct warned her not to go ahead with the wedding. Didn’t she want more for herself? Didn’t she want love?
Annoyed at the direction of her thoughts, Portia sipped her tea, only to spill it at the sound of the doorbell.
Lex! Had he returned early from America? She was on her feet, pulse quickening, when she realised her mistake. He wouldn’t use the bell because he had a key. Besides, he wasn’t due back for two days.
She opened the door to find their neighbour on the doorstep.
‘Mrs Buscot!’ One look told Portia something was wrong. The elderly lady was trembling and pale, one hand at her throat in a gesture of anxiety. ‘Please, won’t you come in?’
‘Thank heaven you’re here. I need your help.’
Lex told himself Portia had probably gone to bed early, yet he couldn’t stifle disappointment that the house was dark. He’d tried phoning and texting to tell her of his changed travel plans but couldn’t raise her.
That had sent unease shooting along his spine. Had something happened to her? To the baby?
He turned on the light and strode through the house, finding only empty rooms.
Maybe she’d gone out for the evening. But he didn’t believe it. He hadn’t missed her tiredness and knew it was only partly due to their lovemaking. Something had interfered with her sleep and lately she preferred to stay home at night.
Just when he thought she’d begun to believe everything would be okay with the baby.
Something was worrying her but she hadn’t confided in him. He tried not to let that bother him, telling himself to be patient, that she’d share with him eventually just as she’d done about the miscarriage.
He took the stairs two at a time, driven by the need to see her, hold her. The whole time he’d been in the States he hadn’t been able to settle—a first when it came to business. The hotel bed had been too empty. He’d missed Portia in his arms, missed talking with her over breakfast, relaxing with her in the evening, and in meetings his attention kept wandering.
He found the bedroom deserted, the bed neatly made.
Lex glanced at his watch, his nape prickling.
She wasn’t expecting you. Maybe she went out to see a late film.
But he didn’t believe it.
The bathroom was empty too, except a door in the vanity unit was open. Lex stared, trying to remember what had stood on the now empty shelf.
Portia’s toiletries bag.
Swiftly he opened every drawer and door. It wasn’t there.
He crossed the bedroom, flicking on the light switch as he entered the dressing room.
A set of Portia’s work clothes lay discarded on the velvet couch. A couple of other garments spilled across them as if hastily dropped. That was unlike Portia. He strode to the vast cupboard that held their luggage. The new pieces he’d bought her were all there but there was a gap beside them where her small case had stood.
Something sliced through his abdomen like a butcher’s knife carving meat. He rocked back on his heels and would have stumbled but for his grab at the door.
There’s a sensible explanation. Portia wouldn’t just walk out on you. She’s not that sort of woman.
Yet panic bubbled inside him.
A nasty little voice in his head reminded him that he’d once walked out on her. Valiantly he tried to ignore it and not jump to conclusions.
He’d known something wasn’t right. Despite Portia’s smiles, the phenomenal sex they shared and her changed attitude to Greece and marriage, lately there’d been an undercurrent of... Something he couldn’t put a name to. He couldn’t shake the idea that something was missing between them.
He spun around, surveying the dressing room. In one corner hung the long bag containing her wedding dress. The box with her bridal shoes was beside it. But there was a gap where her favourite flat shoes normally rested and a few other empty spaces here and there.
He swallowed a knot of fear.
Portia wasn’t answering her phone. She’d taken a bag and some of her clothes and left without a message.
Lex sprinted from the room and down the stairs. Maybe she’d left a note and he’d missed it.
But the search proved fruitless.
Sweat beaded his hairline as fear gripped him. Two horrible options lodged in his brain, curdling his stomach. That she or the baby had taken ill and Portia had gone to the hospital. Or she’d decided not to go through with the wedding. Maybe she’d left him. Both ideas were untenable.
He pulled out his phone to begin ringing hospitals.
Fatigue bowed Portia’s shoulders as she trudged up the steps, her small case in her hand. It had been a long day and she couldn’t wait to put her feet up.
She fumbled with the key in the front door, finally fitting it properly, only to have it jerk open so quickly she teetered on the brink of falling over the threshold.
A huge figure loomed before her, backlit by the hall light. Her heart thudded high in her throat but in an instant relief rushed in. She’d know that sexy, tousled hair anywhere, the silhouette of a powerful, familiar figure.
‘Chrysi mou.’
His arms encircled her, hauling her in against his tall frame, his mouth brushing her hair as he murmured a stream of incoherent words.
Portia dropped her bag and slid her arms around his waist. It felt so good to be in his arms again. This was the homecoming she wanted, not returning to the empty house as she’d envisaged.
‘What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in America.’
Not that she minded. This fervent embrace had her heart skipping and her silly brain reading more into his welcome than it should.
‘I came back early to surprise you. Where have you been ?’
There was a discordant note in his deep voice and she finally registered the tremor running through his big frame.
‘Lex, are you all right? Is something wrong?’
A huff of laughter brushed warm air across her forehead then he turned, one arm still around her back, and drew her inside, grabbing her bag on the way. It was only then that she saw the blaze of light inside. She’d been so tired she hadn’t even noticed from the street.
‘You disappear for at least twenty-four hours and ask if something’s wrong? I’ve been out of my mind with worry.’
The door shut behind them and in the spill of light she saw his face properly for the first time. He looked strung too tight, the planes of his face more pronounced. Lines furrowed his brow and grooved deep beside his mouth. The pulse at his temple hammered.
She’d seen Lex annoyed, thrilled by the news of their child, lost to a world of sexual pleasure, or warmly smiling, but never like this. Instantly she knew what he’d feared.
She grabbed his upper arms, holding his gaze. ‘It’s okay, Lex. Nothing’s happened to the baby. It’s perfectly fine.’
He sucked in a deep breath that made his chest rise. He nodded then exhaled. Yet instead of looking relieved, his features remained tense, like a man on the edge.
That didn’t make sense. She was here now and he knew the baby was okay.
‘Why did you go away, Portia? And why didn’t you tell me?’
‘It’s a long story.’ And it had been a trying twenty-four hours. She felt completely done in. ‘I had no idea you were worried about me. But right now I need the bathroom and a cup of tea in that order. I’ll tell you all about it in the kitchen.’
Instead of stepping back, his grip on her remained firm, almost as if he didn’t want to release her. ‘I’ll carry your case upstairs while you freshen up. Then I’ll make tea and some supper for you while you talk.’
He kept his arm around her all the way up the stairs into the bedroom. Was it fanciful to think him reluctant to let her go? Of course it was. He’d had a fright, thinking something had happened to the baby, that was all.
Yet she was aware of him watching her every step of the way as she walked into the bathroom. Her skin prickled, heating under that intense stare.
It felt like the very air sparked with electricity. Like when an enormous thunderstorm was about to break.
Portia longed to take a shower or a long soak in the bath but didn’t have the heart to keep Lex waiting.
As soon as she entered the kitchen he swung around. Was that relief on his features? She was so tired she was probably seeing things. She’d already assured him about the baby so there was nothing left for him to worry about.
Her bones seemed to melt as she sank onto a stool beside the gleaming counter. ‘I didn’t expect you back here yet. Was there some problem with your meetings? I thought—’
‘Why did you leave, Portia? And why didn’t you answer my calls?’
Lex put a steaming mug of tea in front of her but didn’t move away. He stood with one hip propped against the counter, ankles crossed. But his tightly folded arms belied his casual pose. He looked just as tense as when he’d ripped the front door out of her hand. Like a man on the edge.
Lex looked down into her wary eyes and tried to tell himself he was worrying about nothing. One of the traits that made him an excellent businessman was his ability to remain calm and think quickly under pressure. To adapt and turn problems into solvable opportunities.
That facility deserted him now. For a night and a day he’d been frantic with worry and he couldn’t seem to switch off. Even the news that their baby was all right didn’t diminish his fear.
Portia had returned but not necessarily to him. She hadn’t expected him home. He should still be in the US, except his need to be with her had surpassed all his other priorities.
Was she back for good? Or had she returned temporarily, not expecting to see him?
Gut instinct told him something was wrong. Something she’d tried to hide these past weeks.
She sighed and lifted the mug, cradling it in both hands. ‘I didn’t answer your calls because my phone was dead. I left in a rush and forgot to take my charger so the phone went flat. I didn’t think you’d worry. We’d already spoken yesterday afternoon and I was returning today.’
‘But the couple of times I’ve been away overnight, I always ring in the evening too.’
To check she was okay.
Because she was precious to him.
The terror he’d felt since yesterday, not knowing where she was or how she was, had undone him. And proved beyond all doubt the true depth of his feelings.
It amazed him he hadn’t realised before. But then he’d spent years telling himself he was done with such feelings. What a time to discover the truth!
The immense resources he’d put into the search for her hadn’t turned up any viable clues and he’d been mindless with worry.
Portia surveyed him over the rim of her mug as she sipped. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I have your number on speed dial but I never memorised it. When the phone died I told myself one night wouldn’t matter.’
It had mattered to him. His blood had run cold at the idea she was either sick or had left him.
‘I’m sorry I worried you. But truly the baby is fine.’
He nodded. That had allayed some of his fears, but not all.
He’d imagined Portia finding a new place to live, without him, because she’d decided marriage would be a mistake. She’d given up her old flat and her friends hadn’t heard from her. Had she been scoping out a new home, returning only to tell him she was leaving?
In her unexplained absence, Lex had finally worked out what had made her so edgy lately. Their upcoming wedding. It had to be. Which meant she was working up to jilting him.
Because she didn’t feel the same way about him that he did about her. Despite the sex, despite the friendship, despite the baby, Portia kept a part of herself separate.
Because she didn’t trust him enough or care for him enough. That realisation had gutted him.
But he had to hear her say it.
Then persuade her not to leave him.
‘Where were you, Portia? What were you doing?’
‘You should sit down, Lex. You don’t look good.’
She really didn’t want to tell him what she’d been doing. His heart plummeted.
When he didn’t move, she frowned. ‘I was helping Mrs Buscot.’
The name was familiar but he couldn’t place it. ‘Mrs Buscot?’
‘Our elderly neighbour.’
Finally recognition dawned. The spry, grey-haired woman who’d befriended Portia, or vice versa. Lex had only seen her to wave to. ‘Go on.’
‘She’d had bad news. Her daughter in Cornwall was rushed to hospital after a car accident. She’s got three young children and her husband is on an overseas work trip. Mrs Buscot had to get down there as quickly as possible to see her and take care of the children. But she was so upset she didn’t trust herself to drive yet she needed the car in Cornwall because her daughter’s car was written off.’
Lex drew a steadying breath, his racing pulse easing a little. ‘So you drove her then stayed overnight.’
She nodded. ‘I helped with the children a little today while she went to the hospital again to see her daughter. I caught an afternoon train but there were delays on the line so it took forever to get back.’
He planted his hand on the countertop as relief weakened his knees.
Portia hadn’t been running away. The invisible chains weighting his body fell away.
After long moments his brain started processing the rest of what Portia had said. ‘How’s her daughter? And how’s an elderly lady going to look after three young children?’
‘Her daughter is doing well. She’ll be released in a day or two and her husband will return by the end of the week.’
‘I can arrange home help in the meantime. Three little children might be too much for an old lady who’s probably still in shock.’
‘That’s a lovely idea. I’m sure they’d appreciate it.’ An expression he couldn’t read flitted across Portia’s features. ‘You really are good at thinking of practicalities and getting things organised.’
Lex narrowed his eyes, trying to identify something in her tone that made his nape prickle. Ostensibly it had been a compliment. It felt more like a double-edged blade.
‘You don’t like me being organised?’
‘That would be stupid. It’s a valuable trait.’ Portia sipped her tea. ‘It’s what you do. You see a problem and you fix it.’
He waited but she said nothing else.
‘What is it you’ve seen me fix?’
But he had a good idea.
She lifted one shoulder. ‘Our situation. Our baby.’
‘You think I’ve been fixing our situation ?’ Something lurched in his belly at the idea she thought he was so cold-blooded. She knew how he felt about their child.
But she doesn’t know how you feel about her.
Lex met guarded dark eyes and felt the rush of blood, the adrenaline surge he sometimes experienced, on the cusp of a major breakthrough.
Could that be it?
He’d avoided confronting his feelings for Portia because of the atavistic fear they might undo him once and for all. He’d told her he’d put her behind him years before but the truth was that had been impossible. It was one of the reasons he hadn’t found a permanent partner in the years since they’d separated.
She looked down at her tea. ‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that. I know the baby means everything to you.’ She looked up again, her gaze challenging. ‘I admire you for going to so much trouble to create a family for our child.’
Not just for our child.
The words hovered on his tongue, eager to burst free.
But how will she respond if you tell her?
What does Portia feel for you?
Fear, like a lump of ice, skittered down his spine to lodge in his belly.
Still her eyes met his. He couldn’t bear the doubt he read there, couldn’t bear that he’d hurt her, in the past and it seemed, now.
‘I’m not acting just for the baby’s sake, Portia.’ He cleared his throat over jagged shards. ‘I love you. I fell for you all those years ago and despite everything I told myself, I never stopped loving you. It wasn’t just a youthful infatuation. It was something far more profound and still is.’
Portia’s mug slammed onto the countertop. He heard the noise as if from a distance. All his senses focused on the woman before him, her eyes growing wide, her beautiful mouth sagging as if in shock.
‘You don’t have to do this, Lex. We promised honesty, remember?’
He nodded, the movement jerky, and stepped closer, into her space. He lifted an unsteady hand to stroke her cheek, needing the physical contact. His breath expelled in a rush as he touched her warm skin.
‘I remember. And I confess I haven’t been completely honest.’
Portia started back, jerking away from his hand as if scalded.
He was making a mess of this but he’d lost all his finesse. He was left with only the bare truth.
‘I told myself for ages that what we shared was only sexual desire and the remnants of old friendship. That was enough to go on with. And when I learnt about the baby, I told myself the thrill I felt was all about being a father.
‘I was a coward. At first it was unintentional, a way of keeping my emotions in check so I wouldn’t be hurt again. And there was shame too, that I’d left you to cope alone because I didn’t see through your father’s lies. I wondered if I were more like my mother than I realised, sabotaging anything like an intimate relationship.’
He raked a hand through his hair, hating what his actions said about him. ‘I let you down, Portia, and at the most fundamental level I knew I didn’t deserve you.’
‘Oh, Lex.’ Warmth encircled his left wrist and he looked down to see she’d grabbed it. Swiftly he covered her hand with his right hand, holding it in place. ‘We were both so young. You’d faced prejudice all your life. I’m not surprised you fell for that lie.’
‘But you still held it against me when we met again.’
She nodded. ‘It took me a long time to trust again. Especially to trust my feelings—’
‘Give me a chance, Portia. If you want to put off the wedding, or not marry at all, I’ll accept that. I just want to be with you. I love you. I know you’ve been having second thoughts but I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy. To win your trust back.’
To his horror, she blinked, her eyes overbright.
‘Ah, Chrysi mou , please don’t cry. I—’
‘They’re happy tears.’ She sniffed and her chin wobbled. ‘I’ve loved you all this time. I tried not to but never quite succeeded.’
His heart leapt. ‘You love me?’
Her other hand joined his so they gripped each other tight. They both trembled and he saw in her face the dawning wonder and excitement that spilled through him.
She inclined her head. ‘That’s why I’ve worried about the wedding. I know it’s the best thing for the baby, but marrying someone who doesn’t love me back—’
‘But I do. With all my heart I do.’ Lex lifted her hands, pressing kisses to her fingers.
He dropped to his knee, still holding her hands. ‘Portia. Chrysi mou. Will you marry me? Not because of our child, but because my life would be hollow without you. I don’t think I could go on.’ He took a breath so deep his lungs ached. ‘I promise to be upfront about my feelings in future. And if you’ll have me, I promise you my trust, my devotion and my love. Always.’
If he lived to be a hundred he’d never forget her expression. So open and loving he felt like he’d swallowed pure sunlight.
‘Just try and stop me.’ Her sudden laughter was joyous. ‘I promise to trust you and love you too, Lex, and share how I feel. You’re the only man for me. No one has ever made me so happy.’ She tugged at his hands. ‘Now, get up and kiss me before I really do start crying.’
Lex closed her in his arms and finally believed it was real. She loved him and no man in the world could be happier.
Ages later she murmured, ‘What does Chrysi mou mean? I tried to look it up but can’t spell Greek.’
Lex’s hand was supporting the back of her head. He let his fingers comb her beautiful blonde locks.
‘It means my golden one. I’ve always thought of you that way.’ He met her dazzled eyes and smiled. He felt dazzled too by his tremendous good fortune. ‘You light up my life, Portia.’
‘My Lex.’ This time her eyes didn’t fill with tears. ‘We’re going to be so happy together.’