The Wealthy Greek's Contract Wife(16)

‘Put on the watch, and then we had better leave,' was all Ilios said in response.

She was lying, of course; she had to be. He wasn't deceived or taken in   by her, nor would he ever be-by her or by any other woman.

The watch was discreetly expensive: a plain black leather band and a white-gold face was studded with small diamonds.

Since Ilios was already shrugging on his suit jacket, Lizzie fastened   the watch quickly and went to pick up her coat-just as Ilios too was   reaching for it. Their fingertips met and touched, his over her own,   warm and strong, filling Lizzie with a need to simply curl her fingers   into his in a silent plea for acceptance and comfort.

Frantically she pulled back, grabbing hold of her coat with her other   hand and telling Ilios quickly, ‘It's all right. I don't need to put it   on. I'll just carry it until we get out of the car.'

She really didn't think she was up to any more physical contact right   now, with a man whose mere presence seemed to have the ability to send   her body's awareness of him to stratospheric levels.

The gallery, when they reached it, was ablaze with lights, and with the   shine reflected from the stunning amount of diamond jewellery being   worn. Ilios's hand was on Lizzie's arm as he guided her through the mass   of paparazzi, waiting to snap photographs of the rich and famous as   they made their way from the kerb to the door.

‘I can see now why you aren't keen on my outfit. Obviously to be   considered anything like worthy of you I'd have to have dressed very   differently,' Lizzie was forced to admit reluctantly once they had   stepped inside. She had seen how many of the other women were wearing   tiny little dresses, bandaged-or so it seemed-to their equally tiny   bodies. The dresses revealed lengths of lean bronzed leg and the swell   of quite often implausibly taut and rounded breasts.

No wonder he had derided her choice of clothes if this was what he considered normal clothing for the female body.

‘The women you are looking at are high-price tarts up for sale-on the   hunt for the richest husband they can snare,' Ilios told Lizzie grimly.   ‘The clothes they are wearing denote their profession, as does their   desire to be photographed. It's their version of newspaper advertising.   Come with me.'

As though by magic the mass of bronzed flesh parted to let them   through-although not without some very predatory and inviting looks   being thrown in Ilios's direction, Lizzie noticed.

Beyond the call girls and the men hanging round them, in the interior of   the gallery were several groups of people: men in business suits, and   elegant, confident-looking women in beautiful designer clothes.

One of the men came forward, extending his hand.

‘Ilios, my friend. It is good to see you.'

‘You only say that, Stefanos, because you hope to persuade me to buy   something,' Ilios responded, turning to Lizzie to say easily, ‘Agapi   mou, allow me to introduce Stefanos to you. I should warn you, though,   that he will insist on presenting us with some hideous piece of supposed   art as a wedding gift.'

Agapi mou-didn't that mean my love? But of course she wasn't, Lizzie   reminded herself, as she admired the clever way in which Ilios had   announced both their relationship and their impending marriage.

Within seconds people were crowding round them, smiling and exclaiming,   and Lizzie had no need to fake the sudden shyness that had her moving   instinctively closer to Ilios, so that he took hold of her hand and   tucked it though his arm.

‘Ilios, how can this be? You have always sworn never to get married.'

The speaker was a woman of around Ilios's own age; she was smiling, but   there was a certain hard edge to her voice that warned Lizzie she was   someone who might have a shared history with Ilios. She might not   entirely welcome the news of his supposed intended marriage, even though   she was wearing a wedding ring and was accompanied by a solid,   square-faced man who appeared to be her husband.                       
       
           



       

‘Lizzie changed my mind, Eleni,' Ilios answered her, and the smile he   gave Lizzie as he turned to look down at her made her suspect that if he   had gifted her with that kind of smile and meant it she'd have been   transfixed to the spot with delight.

‘Well, you cannot cling together all evening like a pair of   turtledoves.' Eleni replied. ‘I want you to convince Michael that he   should build me a new villa on the island-and you, of course, must   construct it. There is no other builder to whom we would entrust such a   commission. I have it in mind to copy your own Villa Manos for us,  since  you insist on refusing to let us buy the original from you.'

Immediately Lizzie felt Ilios stiffen, his arm rigid against hers.

So, if they had once been lovers the parting had not been an amicable   one, Lizzie guessed. Because there was plainly ill feeling between them   now. Eleni must surely know that Ilios would never sell his family  home.

‘Has Ilios shown you Villa Manos yet, Lizzie? Told you that he will   expect you to make your home there once you are married? Personally, I   could never live anywhere so remote. Certainly not all year round. And   then, of course, one must wonder what one's husband is getting up to   whilst he is here in Thessaloniki and you are stuck on a peninsula in   the middle of nowhere.'

‘I would never marry a man I couldn't trust implicitly,' Lizzie responded calmly, and with quiet dignity.

‘My dear, how very brave of you.' Eleni was positively purring. ‘I hate   to tell you this, but whilst a man will promise anything whilst he is  in  the first throes of … love, marriage often brings about a sea change.   When a woman is occupied with her home and her children her husband can   start to look elsewhere for entertainment. Especially a Greek man.  After  all, they have the example of our Greek gods before them. Zeus  himself  could not be faithful to his wife. He had many adventures  outside their  marriage, if mythology is to be believed.'

‘A man who is truly happy in his marriage does not seek satisfaction   outside it, Eleni, and I know that with Lizzie I shall find all the   happiness I need.' Ilios defended their relationship, turning to her to   lift her hand to his lips and tenderly kiss her fingers whilst gazing   into her eyes.

Ilios really should have been an actor, Lizzie decided, struggling   against the tide of longing surging through her. She had to be strong,   she reminded herself. She had to fight the effect he had on her. She had   to prove to herself that she could endure and overcome the effect his   closeness had on her.

‘An ex, I take it?' she couldn't resist murmuring to Ilios once they had escaped.

‘Of a sort,' he agreed, a little to her surprise. ‘Although the prey she   was hunting was my cousin, not me. When she discovered that he wasn't   going to inherit Villa Manos she dropped him.'

‘And turned her attentions to you?'

‘She tried,' Ilios agreed. ‘But without success. You handled Eleni   extremely well,' he said, then paused. Unable to stop himself, he told   her brusquely, ‘You play your part well. I suspect that every man here   is envying me.'

What on earth had made him say that, even if it was true? Why should he   care if other men wanted her? The admiration he could see in their eyes   was a benefit to him, because it meant that she was being accepted and   acceptable as his wife-to-be.

Lizzie couldn't help smiling at him. There was a soft, warm feeling   inside her body-a sweet, tender unfolding of something, happiness, that   lifted her. Just because Ilios had-what?-complimented her? She must not   feel like that. She must not.

What he had said to her was the truth, Ilios knew. But more than that   she had a warmth that drew people to her. He had seen it in the eyes of   his friends and in their manner towards her. Could he have been unfair   to her, wrong about her and the way he had initially judged her? What  if  he had? He didn't owe her anything, after all. She was the one who  was  indebted to him, not the other way around.


Lizzie wasn't sorry when it was time to leave the restaurant where they   had had dinner with Ilios's friends, next door to the gallery. Whilst   the other people she had met had more than made up for Eleni's   bitchiness with their warmth and readiness to befriend her, and the food   at the smart restaurant had been delicious, she had felt on   edge-knowing that she was only playing a part, afraid of making a slip   that would reveal the truth, and at the same time uncomfortable with the   deceit she was having to practise.