Chapter Three #3
She was gone, yanking her hand free and retreating till her back hit the full-length window, eyes wide as if in shock.
Panos was the one surprised. He’d felt her eagerness, her hunger. It was there still, trembling in the air between them like a silent scream of need.
She flattened her palms against the glass as if desperate for support. Her breasts rose and fell sharply. Did she have any idea how the clinging silk outlined her hardened nipples?
His groin was tight and heavy, so much so that he felt momentary regret at her retreat. It would have been satisfying if she’d shown her true colours.
He didn’t want her, he assured himself. But it was a reminder that he’d been celibate too long. He wanted…
No, you don’t want her. You want her gone.
‘Pack your bags,’ he growled, surprised at how his voice scraped. ‘Now. You leave in half an hour.’
She shook her head. ‘You might be rich and powerful but you can’t hide this.’
He frowned. ‘I have no intention of hiding anything, just getting rid of a nuisance.’
His chest was tight as if his lungs cramped and the churning in his belly betrayed how much the sight of her unsettled him. He hated that. Hated that though he’d excised her from his life, she still got under his skin.
‘She has to know the truth.’
Dragged out of his thoughts, Panos struggled for a second to follow the conversation. ‘Know what?’
‘That you’re married. That you can’t marry her.’
There was a roaring in his ears as he crossed the space between them in a couple of strides. His hands flexed as if wanting to reach for her, but he kept them at his sides.
‘We’re not married. We never were. You know that.’
Now he’d surprised her. She stared, her mouth dropping open.
He shook his head. ‘You really think I’d have spent the last three years married to you? After it became obvious why you’d latched onto me?’
He remembered her shining eyes, her vows, her excitement which at the time he’d put down to something akin to his own pleasure. But soon enough he’d discovered what really excited her was cold, hard cash. Nothing more.
‘It won’t wash, Ms Jones. You and I both know we aren’t married.’
‘Are you serious?’ She looked dazed. ‘I was never served divorce papers. There was nothing from your lawyers after…’
‘After they threatened to sue if you kept harassing me?’
It had taken a lot of work to make her desist. She was persistent, he’d give her that.
Suddenly he’d had enough. ‘We both know there was no need for divorce when the original marriage wasn’t legal.’
‘Of course it was legal. We got the paperwork.’
‘Married on a tiny Pacific island by the local headman? It might be good enough for local custom, but not to stand up in a court of law.’
Which was all that mattered. Being legally bound to this woman would have been disastrous.
‘It was legal. I checked.’
‘So did my team. It was the first thing they did when I ordered them to make sure you didn’t bother me again.’
Dido opened her mouth then shut it. Finally she said, ‘You’re saying you believed it was a sham marriage from the first, but you went through with it anyway?’
He hadn’t realised at the time that the ceremony wasn’t binding.
It seemed remarkable now that he’d actually been on-board, eager in fact, to marry this woman.
But he wasn’t going to admit that to her.
She’d pulled the wool over his eyes with her faux innocence.
Let her think he’d known the truth from the first. He didn’t enjoy being anyone’s fool.
Her eyes narrowed, her expression morphing from apparent shock to searing contempt.
‘You really are a complete bastard, aren’t you, Panayiotis Diamandis?’
It was a lifetime since anyone had called him by his full name.
He had a dim memory of his first guardian, his venal relative, using it when Panos had done something of which he disapproved.
It had had no impact on him then, but strangely he felt a flicker of discomfort now.
He felt it for a second and brushed it aside.
‘Do you really want to start name-calling, Ms Jones?’
Her chin jerked up and she straightened, moving away from the window and into his personal space.
There it was again, that prickling awareness of her proximity, every nerve ending jangling with something akin to anticipation.
‘I don’t care what story you concoct,’ she spat out. ‘It happened. It was real and you can’t pretend it wasn’t. Chiara needs to know.’
‘What do I need to know?’
Panos watched Dido’s eyes widen as she looked past him. He turned with a sinking feeling, to see his fiancée standing just inside the open door. So much for handling this neatly and swiftly.
‘It’s okay, I’ll deal with this, Chiara.’
But Dido spoke at the same time, her voice breathless but determined. ‘That he can’t marry you. It would be bigamy.’
‘Bigamy!’ Chiara’s hand went to her throat, her gaze searching his. ‘You’re married?’
What sort of man did she think him? ‘Of course not!’
But his nemesis, Dido Cressida Jones, butted in before he’d even finished speaking. ‘Yes, he is. To me! And we never divorced.’
After that there was no chance of a reasonable conversation.