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She was to make no other financial claims other than the one which stood.
And the real clincher. The one which made her blood run cold…
She was never to contact him again once they were divorced.
It hurt. It hurt more than it should have done and more than he would ever realise, but at least nobody could ever accuse Odysseus Diamides of being anything other than savagely honest with her.
The marriage service was simple and stark and the words weren’t supposed to mean anything, but the annoying thing was that, to Grace, theydid. Despite all her misgivings, she could feel the leap of hope. The warm glow of possibility. She couldn’t seem to hold back the embryonic stirrings of love for a man she sensed was badly in need of love. But one look at Odysseus’s face was enough to bring her crashing down to earth. His stony features showed nothing but indifference and his cool voice sounded as if he were reciting an inventory. Which she should haveexpected, she told herself fiercely, hoping her face didn’t betray her disappointment. In fact, the only thing which surprised her was the sudden appearance of a photographer who fired rapid shots to capture the newly-weds standing in a swirl of white rose petals, enthusiastically thrown by Evangelia and her son, Marinos.
Odysseus’s eyes were thoughtful as he brushed one of the stray petals from her cheek, his thumb lingering fractionally on her skin.
‘You look beautiful, by the way.’
‘Honestly?’
‘Honestly,’ he affirmed gravely. He raised his eyebrows. ‘You’re not regretting it?’
‘It?’
‘The marriage.’
‘Of course not,’ she answered, glancing around—relieved nobody was in earshot to hear this less than traditional question from a husband to his new wife. ‘I mean, I was a bit freaked out when that photographer suddenly appeared.’ She pulled a face. ‘I thought you said you wanted the whole thing to be kept low-key.’
‘I did. But low-key, not secret.’ He raised his eyebrows in mocking query. ‘We don’t want people thinking you’re pregnant, do we?’
To Grace, his words sounded harsh. Or perhaps that was his intention. To remind her that there would not be—nor could there ever be—any children. Why that should cause a sudden twist of sadness was a mystery, but at least it was a wake-up call.
‘We most certainly don’t,’ she said staunchly, peering over the balcony to see that a small wedding feast had been assembled on the dappled terrace below, and Marinos was carrying an ice bucket containing a bottle of champagne towards the two lawyers. The hostile black and white cat she’d discovered was called Gouri, was now being shooed away by the housekeeper. As Evangelia deposited a platter of stuffed vine leaves on the table, Grace wondered what the staff made of their boss’s surprise marriage—and whether they could see through it for the farce it really was. Did Odysseus sense the cause of her sudden tension, and was that why he put his hand on her bare arm?
‘Let’s just go to bed,’ he said.
Grace dug her fingers into her bouquet, because the temptation to do exactly that was overwhelming. But she knew how much trouble Evangelia had gone to making a traditional dessert ofmasticha chioufor the newly-weds, which she felt duty-bound to try. And, if she was being brutally honest—didn’t she want to cling on to as much of her wedding day as possible, even though deep down she knew it wasn’t real? She might never get another one and she was finding it seductively easy to enjoy playing the role of Odysseus’s bride. ‘The lawyers will think it very odd if we don’t even have a toast with them.’
‘They’re on the payroll, Grace,’ he drawled arrogantly. ‘Their remit is to please me, not to judge me.’
And that was exactly what could happen if you became impossibly rich and successful, Grace realised furiously. If people were working for you, they were forced to dance to your tune. It meant you didn’t have to engage with them on a personal level and hadn’t Odysseus spent his whole life taking advantage of that? And not just with servants—her, too!
‘I think it would be very bad manners to duck out now,’ she admonished.
His sapphire eyes glittered as they acknowledged her forthrightness. ‘Oh, do you?’ he queried softly.
‘Yes, I do. Believe me, I know how frustrating it can be when you’ve gone to a lot of trouble to prepare something and people just turn their noses up at it.’
‘I am talking about a different type of frustration,’ he murmured.
‘I’m sure you are.’ The soft drift of her finger around the edge of his mouth belied the primness in her voice. ‘But that can wait until later. Come on, Odysseus. At least show willing.’
Slightly bemused by his petite bride’s determination, Odysseus accompanied her to the flower-decorated middle terrace and went through the various wedding rituals. And he couldn’t deny that Grace took an element of sunshine with her, wherever she went. As Marinos served drinks and shoed away the ever-persistent cat, he couldn’t help but notice that Evangelia was more smiley than usual as she served them.
But as his housekeeper began to explain the significance of the traditional, white-coated sugar almonds known askoufeta, Odysseus began to grow impatient and he knew the time for play-acting was over.
‘Let’s go,’ he instructed softly.
Feeling the tremble of her fingers, he led Grace up the marble staircase to the master suite and watched as she put her bouquet down and turned to face him. She reallydidlook beautiful, he acknowledged—her young body slim and supple in the simple white dress and her skin glowing with health. But although he was aching to take her to bed, instinct was urging him to delay.
Why was that?
To prolong the anticipation and rack up the sexual tension between them and make the consummation of their marriage especially mind-blowing? Or to demonstrate that, although they were now married, he had lost none of his legendary control?