Chapter Five
PANOS KEPT HIS eyes on Dido as she talked about never wanting to see him again, never wanting to remarry, and felt ice slide down his spine.
She was angry, furious even, but her words didn’t completely ring true.
Because she’s hiding something.
His radar for lies was pinging louder with every word. Because she gave mixed signals. She wanted him gone but there was something she was desperate to hide.
Something that made him more than ever curious and determined to get to the bottom of this.
Pity you didn’t realise she was a liar when you first met. Where was your precious radar then?
He knew he was well rid of her, but her confusing story jangled his nerves. Panos didn’t like conundrums, not when they threatened to mislead him.
If she’d thought they were married she’d have filed for divorce or tried to extort money out of him. After all, that was why she’d married him. She’d just assumed she’d have much longer to bleed his coffers before he woke to the sort of woman she was.
If she knew the marriage wasn’t legal, why go through that charade with Chiara? Dido had been the one to suffer most, losing the contract and, he suspected, any future work in that field. She’d destroyed her reputation and damaged that of her employer.
With anyone else he’d have been tempted to think she’d been driven by revenge, wanting to get her own back at him. But her distress had been clear. And her shock.
Now she stood with her hands clasped tight and shoulders hunched, trying to send him on his way.
He cast his gaze around the room, pausing on a well-loved toy bear in bright yellow.
A teddy bear? It wasn’t some heirloom. It was a cheap, modern toy, sitting on a folded blanket of cheerful yellows and blues. What was it doing here? He saw suns with smiley faces and sleepy-eyed moons.
Something dipped hard in his chest as he thought of what might have been. The rug reminded him of the hopes he’d had, hopes that remarkably he’d shared with this woman. Only to discover she was just as venal as the rest. In fact she was worse.
‘And having children?’ he snarled. ‘Did you ever really want them?’
He’d never told anyone before her about his craving for family. She’d taken that heartfelt wish and used it against him, making him feel…violated.
What madness had got into him, that he’d spilled that to a virtual stranger?
Had he been so besotted with her smiles and the fantastic sex?
It would be almost a relief to think so.
But she’d been far wilier than that. Their liaison had been brief but incredibly potent.
After little more than a week he’d convinced himself she was not only trustworthy, but the woman who could give him what he most desired.
Because they’d been intimate, not just physically, but in some arcane way he couldn’t describe yet felt to the core of his being.
She’d squirrelled her way behind his defences, making him doubt his own judgement, the only thing he’d ever been able to rely on.
More fool him! She was a liar and a cheat.
Finally she spoke. ‘It’s possible to have children outside marriage, you know. Now, I’ve answered your question. I want you to leave.’
His gaze went from her tense features to the toy then back. She positively vibrated with tension as if she’d like to eject him bodily.
The more Dido Jones wanted him to leave, the more determined he was to stay until he learnt everything she tried to hide.
The sound of the door opening made the colour drain from her face. From defiant, her expression changed to fearful. She looked like she was about to crumble where she stood.
Instinctively Panos reached for her, wondering at her terror. But she pulled away as a woman spoke from the hallway.
A second later a child cried for its mother and Dido bolted.
The shock of that cry rocked him back on his heels.
A small, still functioning part of his brain noted that explained the teddy bear and childish blanket. But to all intents and purposes his brain shut down for precious seconds, grappling with the idea of Dido with a child.
Pain radiated from his clenched jaw and fisted hands through every tensed muscle in his body.
She’d had a baby.
Out of nowhere nausea hit in a cresting wave that made his stomach churn.
His vision blurred as he imagined her naked with another man. Sharing with a faceless stranger all the intimacies that Panos had once believed so special between them.
Had she conned her next lover too? Making him think their relationship out of the ordinary?
Or, worse, had it been real? Did Dido and the child’s father have the sort of relationship Panos had craved? The sort he’d believed he was halfway to attaining with the duplicitous Ms Jones?
For some reason the notion was like a punch to the head and one to the gut.
He stalked from the room, following her into the minuscule entry space. He’d been angry before but now he could barely contain his ire. It felt as if his skin were too tight to contain it, as if it would burst free in a devastating blast if he didn’t exercise the utmost control.
Dido was bent over a stroller behind which stood an older woman whose facial features and olive-green eyes spoke of a familial link.
Dido had claimed her parents were dead. Another thing she’d lied about?
‘Theeny’s fine,’ the woman said. ‘It was just—’ She stopped, gaping at him. Her eyes grew round and her mouth opened and closed as if she’d never seen a man before.
As clear as day, Panos saw her surprise turn to fear, before her jaw set and her chin lifted in a way he knew so well. Clearly she was related to Dido.
Between them, Dido kept her back to him, looking down at what she held in her arms. Her child.
But she knew he was there. He saw tension in her slender neck and the angle of her shoulders. He felt it vibrate off her, like ripples in a pool after someone dived in.
Did she too, feel like she was drowning, tugged under by an unseen current? No, she wasn’t floundering. Her voice was crisp as she said, ‘Could you open the door, Flavia? Mr Diamandis is leaving.’
As if!
Two strides took him to Dido. Ignoring his body’s instantaneous fizz of reaction to hers, he looked over her shoulder and his breath died.
There, looking up at him, her face red, was a little girl with wild dark curls and long-lashed brown eyes. As he stared, fixated, he noticed two things. The sprinkling of familiar gold flecks in her eyes. And the fact that she looked exactly like the photo he’d seen of his mother as a toddler.
His larynx cramped, turning his voice into an unfamiliar, husky growl. ‘And who is this?’
He waited a beat but Dido made no response, just stood as if turned to stone. As if he might lose interest and walk away if she ignored him!
Panos thought he’d known anger before. But he discovered his earlier feelings were nothing to the molten fury he felt now. He’d never been one to shout or rant but now only the proximity of the child allowed him to keep his voice soft.
He leaned forward, watching the toddler’s gaze track his movement as if she’d never witnessed anything so fascinating. He knew the feeling. His gaze was riveted to her, taking in the small, heart-shaped face, the smudge of what might be ice cream on her cheek and the beginnings of a smile.
When he spoke again he was so close he inhaled the scent of warm, honeyed skin with a tantalising note of vanilla from the woman standing so rigid beside him.
‘But you haven’t introduced me,’ he murmured. ‘Besides, we have so much more to discuss.’
Satisfaction pierced his rage as Dido jumped. But she couldn’t have been na?ve enough to think he’d walk away after seeing the child.
For what seemed a whole minute no one moved. Until the little girl lifted her hand towards him, little fingers opening and closing in what might have been a wave. Then, as if finally sensing the fraught emotions around her, her forehead puckered and she cried, ‘Mumma!’
Dido swung around, her hand protectively covering the back of the child’s head as she faced him. If he’d had doubts about his instinctive deduction, her protective stance now would have obliterated them.
‘Now’s not a good time,’ she hissed.
As if he’d asked to schedule a business meeting. This was more vital than any business he’d ever conducted.
Panos folded his arms across his chest. She couldn’t really think he’d leave now. ‘When would have been a good time? A bit over two years ago?’
He heard a gasp and Dido jerked back as if afraid he’d pluck the child from her arms.
If his conclusions were correct she had no right to shut him out, no matter how inconvenient.
The child not only looked like his dead mother, she had his eyes. Looking into them was like looking into a mirror.
Had Dido really had his baby and kept it secret all this time?
The idea was so outrageous he almost couldn’t believe it. Except for the proof of the child’s features. And the dismay, raw and unconcealed, on Dido Jones’ face.
Good. She deserved to be worried. He could barely imagine the sort of selfish deceit it took to keep a man’s child from him.
And you once thought you knew this woman. You believed her genuine and…
Panos slammed an iron door on those thoughts. He had no time for unproductive regrets.
‘Sh, little one.’ She jigged the toddler in her arms, at the same time shooting him a darkling stare. As if he’d upset the child, rather than her picking up the fraught atmosphere for which her mother was solely to blame. ‘If you’ll step aside, I’ll see to her.’
Reluctantly he moved, letting her pass, his gaze glued to the curve of the toddler’s cheek as she nestled against her mother, the arch of her eyebrow and the flash of curiosity in that dark eye.
Panos watched them disappear up the hallway.
‘Perhaps it would be better if you come back later.’
He’d almost forgotten the older woman. He turned to find her folding up the pushchair but when she straightened her gaze was as inimical as Dido’s had been. As if he were in the wrong!
Definitely related.
‘Better for Dido perhaps. But not for me, or my daughter.’