Chapter Nine
The next morning when Hope woke up, the sun was high in the sky. It was warm. She could feel the breeze on her bare skin. Smell and hear the sea. And the birds. And Axel’s deep voice, somewhere on the floor below.
Hope turned over in the bed and pulled the sheet up to cover her body. She blushed when she thought of being naked in the pool and how the only reason they hadn’t made love there was because Axel had had to go inside for protection and so he’d just carried her up to the bedroom.
Then they hadn’t had to worry about actually cooking from scratch because Candice had left a delicious stew in the fridge.
And after eating and drinking wine they’d gone back to the bedroom and made love again. Hope’s body felt heavy with a deep sense of satisfaction.
And then she realised that Axel’s voice had stopped.
She got up from the bed, wrapping the sheet around her, and went to the window that looked out over the front of the villa and to the beach and sea.
Just in time to see Axel in snug swim trunks that left very little to the imagination, striding down the path, onto the beach and into the sea, plunging under the foaming waves and striking out with strong arms.
Her insides clenched when she thought of him patiently teaching her how to swim. Well, how to float. It was so far removed from the man she’d first met—who’d appeared so cool and aloof and remote. Controlled.
She could see Axel coming back towards shore and she scrambled back, dropping the towel, jumping into the shower and dressing in shorts and a midriff-skimming loose top before he found her ogling him like a lovestruck groupie.
* * *
‘What are we looking for?’ Axel asked Hope as they walked among the colourful market stalls in the nearby town.
‘Anything that catches your fancy, really. Fruit, vegetables. I can do a mean seafood stir-fry.’
Axel carried a bag over one arm and dutifully followed Hope, who kept stopping when she spotted something. She dazzled the stallholders, language proving to be little barrier against her innate friendly charm.
He was as mesmerised by her as the stallholders. She was wearing a plain sundress with wide straps. Buttons down the front. A pale blue colour that made her eyes pop. Sandals on her feet. Toenails painted a pretty pink.
Axel was aware that he was acting so far out of character that he almost didn’t recognise himself any more. Since when had he gone swimming in the sea and then lain down on the sand to dry off? Letting the sun sink right through to his bones? Not since he’d been a child, if even then.
Since when had he worn a uniform of shorts and polo shirts?
And since when had he become so desperate for one woman that he couldn’t get enough of her? Surely, by now Hope should be losing her appeal? But if anything, he wanted her more than ever.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he took it out. A text from Michalis.
The photographer is tailing you now.
Axel’s first reaction should have been one of satisfaction. This was, after all, the object of this mission, to be seen with a woman who looked like a solid partner and not just a hook-up in advance of his important meeting with Baros.
But his actual reaction was one of exposure and irritation that he’d invited a stranger into this idyll. Hope turned around at that moment and looked up at him, smiling. She was holding up a melon. ‘Isn’t this amazing? It’s so fresh. We can have it with Parma ham.’
She saw his face and her smile slipped. Axel felt as if he’d betrayed Hope. He cursed himself. The sun was getting to him.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, I just heard from my staff that there’s a photographer tailing us.’
Hope’s sunniness diminished further. ‘Of course, I forgot. You did warn me to expect it.’
He had. But now it was like a cloud crossing the sun. Hope put the melon back and continued looking at the stalls.
They came out the other end into a pretty square and she turned to him again and she was smiling but Axel could see that it was forced.
The fact that he knew which smiles were genuine and which were fake sent danger signals to his brain but then she came up to him and reached up, pressing a kiss against his mouth. The heat was instant in his blood.
Axel put an arm around her and when she broke away, he said, ‘Thank you.’
‘Just doing my job.’
He held her to him. ‘It’s no longer a job if you’re not being paid.’
Her blonde hair was gleaming in the sun. Axel wondered what it would be like longer. But then he noticed that she’d tensed.
‘You are paying me… You’re giving me stuff and you’re teaching me about sex and how to swim.’
Axel had a violent surge of rejection at the thought of her using what they’d done together with another man. And also…that this was still a job. And that she might not even be here if he offered her a choice now.
‘Are you here because you want to be, Hope? Considering that the original parameters have changed somewhat.’
She blinked and her cheeks went a little pink. ‘Yes… I want to be here for this…whatever this is for as long as it lasts.’
Something inside Axel eased. He said, ‘It’s not a relationship.’
She shook her head. ‘No, it’s not a relationship. I believe we’re in a situationship.’
Axel huffed a laugh. ‘A what?’
‘It’s the lingo. I watch a lot of reality TV—my finger is on the pulse.’ She was smiling again but he sensed a brittleness underneath.
Axel was very aware that, somewhere close by, someone was snapping away at them and his skin crawled a little.
He took Hope’s hand and said, ‘Let’s go back and get that melon.’ While he waited for Hope to choose the best one, he texted Michalis back.
Tell the photographer that if he hasn’t got his shots, tough, he had his chance.
A couple of seconds later he got a response and a couple of images of him and Hope kissing and talking intently. Axel’s stomach churned. Michalis said: Got them. Cute. Talk later.
Before they got back to the car to return to the villa, they were walking down a side street, and Axel really hoped that the photographer had been called off when something caught his eye. It was an art gallery with a massive canvas in the window.
It was huge and full of vibrant colours, reds and oranges and dark purples.
Beside him Hope said, ‘I wouldn’t have thought this was your style. None of your places have art like this.’
No. And Axel felt acutely exposed now that Hope had noticed this. He took her hand and kept walking, saying, ‘It’s not at all.’
But actually, it was, and Axel had no intention of explaining to Hope, who was far too insightful as it was, something he couldn’t explain to himself—the fact that he’d always felt an instinctive need to avoid bright colours and displays of a more personal expression.
* * *
After that trip to the market the other day and the somewhat brutal and timely reminder of exactly why they were in this paradise—to generate paparazzi clicks for their situationship—Hope was careful not to let herself read too much into anything or to delve deep into her own emotions.
That day, she’d wanted to tell him she’d be with him for free. She pretty much had, but not so explicitly. She’d managed to make it sound as if it were still transactional.
She was dazzled by Axel. Of course, she was.
Who wouldn’t be? He was pretty mesmerising.
She was on a fantastical holiday with a gorgeous man with whom she shared insane chemistry and that was it.
She would be required to attend a couple more events with him and then she would be sent packing so that he could advance to his next level of success and pursue a strategic marriage with someone suitable from his world.
She was sure that once she was out of his orbit, the world would return to its natural state again and this would all just be a distant and slightly unbelievable dream.
Hope wouldn’t go back to working on his private jet, or any private jet.
She knew that now. Most likely she’d end up back in the economy-flight business.
But that was OK. Or—she felt a spurt of excitement—maybe she could acually pursue advancing another career and check out what it would take to get into interior design. She could go back and do her A levels…
‘What are you thinking about?’ Axel’s voice came from beside her where they were lying on the sand under the shade of some trees. They were on a tiny secret beach that they’d found while exploring the island in an open-top four-wheel-drive.
Candice had made them a picnic basket earlier and sent them off. They’d just eaten a delicious spread of breads and dips and salad and fruit. Sparkling wine.
Hope turned her head and regarded Axel. His profile was noble. Another reminder of his lineage, dating back to the gods of Greece, and her decidedly less noble lineage.
‘Nothing much,’ she lied. She came up on one elbow. ‘What are you thinking about?’
Axel didn’t open his eyes. He said, ‘Whether or not Sasha and Lucas will make it.’
Hope laughed and flicked some sand at him. ‘Liar.’
He opened his eyes now. ‘I’m deadly serious. If Lucas finds out she was kissing Marco, he’s going to be devastated.’
Hope gasped. ‘But Sasha didn’t want to kiss Marco. He kissed her.’
They’d watched some of Hope’s favourite reality show on the TV in the media room the previous night but Hope had been more transfixed by how invested Axel had become in the dramatic and over-the-top twists and turns of a bunch of beautiful twenty-somethings sequestered on a desert island ostensibly to find true love.
He’d turned to her afterwards and said, ‘That was more brutal than anything I’ve ever seen in my life. When’s the next episode?’
Hope had laughed. And then stopped when she’d realised he hadn’t been joking. She’d asked him, ‘When was the last time you watched TV?’
‘Never?’
She’d groaned. ‘I’m literally dumbing you down.’
Axel rose to his feet now in an athletic fluid motion. He held out a hand. ‘We’ve rested enough since eating—time for a swimming lesson.’