The Greek Millionaire's Marriage (9 page)

Dimitri played it to the hilt and became even more possessive. She loved every minute of his growling attention, and several times found herself gazing up at him with real adoration when she forgot that he was only pretending to be jealous.

He was appalled at the ease with which she flirted.
Years of practice, he supposed. And in between she was managing to look at him with such melting love in her eyes that it made him want to shake her till she begged for mercy. Now he knew how she'd deceived him in the years up to their marriage. Even her eyes could lie convincingly.

‘Tell me, Olivia,' said his friend Vangelis, his voice flatteringly croaky. ‘Will you stay in Greece after the divorce?'

‘You'll be very welcome,' butted in a bemused Andros, addressing her bosom. ‘Especially in my house.'

‘All of me or any particular part?' she asked with a grin, and Dimitri's irritation was swapped briefly for a smile.

‘Oh, all, yes!' Andros said fervently. Dimitri worried cynically for his friend's blood pressure.

‘That's very kind,' she murmured with a sweet smile. ‘Thank you.'

‘Time we circulated,' Dimitri growled, and the men all looked at his menacing face warily. ‘I'd better tell you that Olivia is less certain about her future now we've met up again. And I'm becoming more and more uncertain about mine.' He let his gaze rest on Olivia, staring deeply into her eyes.

‘Does that mean…you two…?' Vangelis left the rest in mid-air.

Dimitri's hand stroked her shoulder and she looked up at him with naked adoration, before fluttering her lashes and adopting a more flirtatious glance.

Lying eyes. Lying little tease! he thought, barely controlling his anger. He touched her parted lips with his forefinger, cynically admiring her clever little gasp that had his friends completely fooled.

‘Can't comment now. Watch this space,' he said in a parting shot, and whisked her away to a quiet, unobserved corner.

It would have given him the greatest pleasure to put her over his knee and slap her tight little rear. Hell. Why was he so jealous?

‘I knew you'd make an impact,' he muttered tightly through his plastered-on grin, ‘but I hadn't expected my intellectual friends to mislay their brain cells quite so comprehensively.'

‘That's the trouble with men and breasts sometimes,' she said perkily. ‘The face doesn't get a look-in. All normal communication is diverted southwards.'

‘You encouraged them,' he growled.

‘I was only doing what we agreed,' she defended.

‘And so very well,' he mocked. ‘But it didn't include making eyes at everything in trousers.'

‘It's good for people to see that you can be jealous,' she said, suspiciously demure.

He caught hold of her impatiently. ‘I just don't like men thinking you're up for grabs. You're still my wife. Behave with some decorum and don't bring your London morals here.'

‘Is this for real, or are you merely
staging
a show of Jealous Husband Syndrome?' she asked, her eyes wide with wonder in the semi-darkness.

And he realised he was in danger of betraying the fact that he was behaving ‘for real'. So he conjured up a thin smile and tried to make his eyes join in.

‘Me? Jealous? If I wanted you, I could have you. There'd be no competition in sight. It would all melt away.'

Her hand stroked his cheek. ‘Such unbelievable conceit,' she sighed. ‘And so misguided.'

‘Like hell it is!'

Provoked to the limit, he kissed her. Hard at first, then softening his mouth as hers began to yield. When he released her, he saw that her eyes were unnaturally bright.

‘What an exhibition we're making of ourselves,' she commented, desperate to hide her misery. Her mouth burned. Her heart felt sore. But she'd never let him know what he did to her.

‘I think my intention is clear,' he rasped. Placing his hand on her rear, he added, ‘Isn't it?'

‘Painfully so. Is mine?' she countered sweetly.

And she risked a saucy wriggle against him before she squeezed his hard, neat rear too, while she kissed him back, pulling away when he tried to prolong contact with her lips.

He looked annoyed. ‘Crystal. It seems we have the same goal in mind,' he growled.

No, she thought. Yours is domination and bed. Mine is escape from a ridiculously obsessive relationship that's destroying me.

‘This'll be interesting,' he said, before she could come up with a quip. ‘Eleni's heading this way. Think you can deal with her on your own?'

‘Coward,' she chided.

‘With good reason. I'm trying to prevent two inches of pancake make-up from being plastered all over my dinner jacket,' he grunted.

‘Well, you disappear, then,' she said, giving him a push. She didn't want Eleni slithering all over him either.

He hesitated. ‘I think,' he said hurriedly as Eleni bore down on them, ‘it would be a good idea if we
catch each other's eyes across the crowded terrace a couple of times. OK?'

Olivia nodded and held her hands out obediently, ready to ‘catch' his eyes. Always quick on the uptake, Dimitri laughed, kissed her cheek and slipped away just as Eleni barged past her last obstacle—two teenagers ogling Dimitri as if they wanted to eat him whole.

‘Hello, Eleni,' Olivia said cheerfully, getting in first. ‘It's ages since we met. I remember taking you shopping—'

‘I was a kid then. It was before I got these.' Eleni defiantly thrust out her shiny breasts at the startled Olivia. ‘I must say, you've got a nerve, flirting with Dimitri! Don't you know he's mine? He is my
lover
. So don't muscle in or I'll scratch your eyes out.'

Lovers. Who was telling the truth—Eleni or Dimitri? After all Dimitri's lying in the past she'd rather take Eleni's word. It seemed that Dimitri would take sex in any form, even when he despised the woman involved.

Olivia winced. Dimitri despised
her
and yet he wanted to make love to her. Maybe he felt like that about all women.

Soberly Olivia gazed at Eleni. The girl seemed very confident, but when Olivia looked more closely she saw that beneath the glamorous make-up was a very young and possibly insecure young woman. Studying the sullen, resentful face, Olivia decided that she couldn't blame Eleni for adoring Dimitri. He'd turn any woman's head.

So she smiled with some sympathy, making no reference to Eleni being Dimitri's mistress. Even if the jealousy scoured a hot well of anger inside her.

‘It's three years since Dimitri and I were last
together,' she said evenly. ‘We're having fun, reminiscing.'

‘Is that what you call it?'

Olivia shrugged. ‘It's amusing to tease him. Too many people treat him like some kind of god. He needs bringing down to earth.'

‘You can do that without draping yourself all over him!' Eleni protested. Olivia dared not comment. ‘How long are you staying?' Eleni asked bluntly.

‘As long as it takes to get the divorce.'

‘In that case, why are you making eyes at him? You don't love him!' Eleni blurted out. ‘You never loved him!'

She looked at Eleni sadly, every raw wound suddenly exposed. ‘He was my life, once. My soul mate…'

Something made the hairs on her neck tingle. Something compelled her to turn. And when she did, her gaze honed in on Dimitri like a heat-seeking missile. He was staring at her, and the impact of his impassioned eyes made her draw in her breath and she found herself walking in his direction as if propelled by an unseen force.

Remembering her manners, she flung back confusedly over her shoulder, ‘Excuse me.'

Eleni was looking at her in astonishment, blinking at Olivia's dry-throated whisper.

‘I must go. You see how it is,' Olivia breathed.

And she glided away, seeing that Dimitri was striding purposefully towards the garden, politely but briefly replying to comments from the guests he passed whilst constantly checking that she knew where he was going.

Around her she could hear the buzz of conversation increase in volume and she knew they were talking
about them both, about the strange powers that drew them together.

But this was what they'd planned. A very public recognition that the sparks hadn't died in their marriage. It was also very true.

Stooping to remove her shoes, she padded over the billiard-table lawn to Dimitri, feeling as if her body flowed towards him with the same inevitability as a river flowing to the sea.

Her eyes were almost midnight-blue when she looked up at him. He gave a shudder, his longing apparent in every inch of his tensioned muscles.

‘I want to make love to you, here and now,' he muttered, his voice riven with passion. ‘I want to see your limbs spread on the grass, your arms reaching up for me.'

She shivered, rivulets of pleasure rippling through her pliable body. ‘A rather extreme way of indicating to everyone that we're getting back together,' she croaked.

His head inclined and he gave a wry smile. ‘My conclusion too. Unfortunately.'

He sounded rawly husky, as if he too had trouble with a desert-dry throat. Olivia felt weak. They'd always have this incredible chemistry between them. Nothing, no one, could ever affect her as deeply as Dimitri did. So she blurted out the first thing that came into her head.

‘I—I had to get away. It…seemed a good idea to wander over here,' she said, her eyes huge in the darkness at the telling of the little white lie. But she couldn't let Dimitri know that he had caught her in his web as a spider caught a fly and rendered it helpless.
So she babbled on. ‘I thought Eleni might throw her drink over me and I didn't want my dress ruined.'

Her heart began to pound when his arm lifted and he reached out to lightly stroke her hip. ‘No. It would be a shame. It suits you so well,' he said jerkily. Retracting his hand and thrusting it deep in his pocket, he frowned and cleared his throat. ‘I'm afraid she regards me as her property.'

The atmosphere thickened between them as if the air was being filled with silent messages they dared not speak. She swallowed, trying to keep the thread of the conversation in her dazed mind. Yes. Eleni. Her eyes flashed.

‘With good reason.'

‘Nobody owns me,' he growled.

‘No. But some people have rights where you're concerned,' she said sharply.

It was appalling that he thought he could treat his mistresses with such contempt. First Athena, then Eleni. And goodness knew how many in between.

‘Was she being bitchy?' he asked, ignoring her comment.

‘It wasn't a conversation I wanted to continue,' she admitted.

Dimitri sucked in a long breath and let it out slowly. ‘I know she's difficult but she's had a strange upbringing. Her mother died when she was tiny. A series of nannies have spoilt her,' he said gently. ‘And it can't help that Mother gave her the impression this was
her
chance to shine and yet everyone's talking about
you
.'

‘Oh!' she said, flustered, her face flushed from the compliment. ‘I don't think so—'

‘I can assure you they are. They're all bowled over
by your beauty, your poise and your easy manner. I am constantly being told what a fool I am.'

She went pinker still, reluctantly but undeniably weakened by the throbbing richness of his low tone.

‘I'm not surprised they're gossiping about us,' she said, attempting levity. ‘It's not often a man entertains his wife and his wife-in-waiting at the same party.'

He chuckled. ‘With any luck the wife-in-waiting will become the one that got away.'

‘She'll be devastated.' Olivia frowned, worried for the girl. She'd lost her virginity to a monster. ‘You shouldn't have slept with her,' she reproved.

‘How many times do I have to tell you? I haven't!' His scowl suggested that her accusation offended him.

‘That's not what she says!' she persisted.

‘Then she's lying. Wishful thinking. I swear it. She has a crush on me, nothing more, and she was trying to warn you off. I'm far too old for her,' he replied, and she felt certain he was sincere. Her spirits lifted. Maybe he wasn't such a heel after all. ‘There are several young men of her age who are more than eager to step into my shoes and they'll suit her much better. She won't have to pretend to be sophisticated and she can take off those layers of make-up and be her nice, natural self. It's buried there somewhere.'

‘I hope you're right. I don't like hurting people,' she said slowly.

‘Really?'

Her lashes flicked up at the note of disbelief in his voice. ‘I make an exception with you,' she muttered.

His grin slashed the darkness. ‘I thought so. Now, to scandalise everyone a little more and to get the sentimentalists sighing, I suggest we walk up and down in full view,' he directed. ‘Take my arm and talk to me.'

They strolled through the garden, lit by huge, guttering candles. Its beauty tugged at her heartstrings and added to the turmoil of emotions that threatened her judgement. She felt as if she might suffocate with the tension that hung around them and prevented her from breathing normally.

Aching with the effort of walking without stumbling, she was glad when they paused to look out at the lights of Olympos village twinkling in the darkness and the necklace of lamps edging the waterfront. Tantalising perfumes teased her nostrils as they drifted in on the breeze. She could smell lemon blossom and it was so sharp and poignant that she began to tremble from the memories it evoked.

‘I want to go back to the party,' she said, weak-kneed, weak-willed and frantic to go before she said something she'd regret. Like
I love you and I always will
.

‘You can leave any time,' he murmured, as if he understood the reason for her sudden distress. ‘I'm sure people here have got the message about us.'