The Wealthy Greek's Contract Wife(25)

In taking Lizzie to bed in the first place he had broken his own rules,   and that was bad enough. However, even though he had known they were  not  using contraception he had still gone ahead-and it was that fact  that  most challenged his perceptions of himself. He could have stopped.  His  mind had given him a warning that had in turn given him the  opportunity  to stop. But he had ignored that warning. Why? Because at  that point he  had been too aroused to want to stop? He was thirty-six  years old,  dammit, not a teenager and he knew it. Now it was that  knowledge that  was rubbing a raw place inside his head. Like grit in a  shoe, demanding  attention, a question that wanted an answer.

Why, when he had been aware of what he was doing and the risk he was   taking, and when he had had the opportunity to stop, had he not done so?   Why had he, in fact, deliberately continued? Knowing what might  result?  His life was planned out-his way ahead clear. Impregnating  Lizzie with  his child was not part of that plan, and neither that child  nor Lizzie  herself had any place in his future.

And now, when surely he ought to be distancing himself from Lizzie, he had actually invited her to spend the day with him.

It would be both heaven and hell to spend the day with Ilios, Lizzie   knew. What had happened to her determination to fight what was happening   to her? She would recover it, she assured herself. But just for today   she was going to allow herself to bask inwardly in the happiness she   felt and the delight of being with him. Inwardly. Outwardly, of course,   she must treat the day and Ilios himself in exactly the same way she   would have done an appointment with any client she might be   accompanying, to view a property they wanted her to restyle for them.   All right, so Ilios wasn't going to be asking her to restyle Villa   Manos, and for her own sake she must remember why he had married her. As   soon as Ilios deemed that their marriage had served its purpose she   would be on her way home, and their marriage would be brought to an end.


With that in mind, when she joined him in the living room half an hour   after they had finished breakfast, she was wearing her ‘professional   uniform' of jeans and a white tee shirt-although the new jeans were part   of her Mrs Manos wardrobe and were designer. They fitted her  perfectly,  just like the tee shirt. She carried a jacket over her arm.

Like her, Ilios was also casually dressed in jeans. When he turned his   back on her to place his coffee mug in the dishwasher Lizzie had an   excellent view of the way in which the denim fitted the muscular   firmness of his buttocks, and shamefully she could feel her heartbeat   increasing as her gaze lingered on him longer than it should have done.   Her? Ogling a man's body? Since when? But Ilios was no ordinary man,  was  he? He was the man she loved. And the temptation to go up to him  and  lean against him, hoping that he would turn round and take her in  his  arms, was almost overwhelming.

It didn't help that Ilios was now coming to bed after she had fallen   asleep and getting up in the morning before she was awake, making it   very plain that he did not want a repetition of the intimacy they had   shared. Although the one good thing about her discovering that she loved   him was that she did not now need to fear being overcome by her   lust-knowing that she loved him had changed everything. It meant that   she would not and could not risk Ilios recognising how she felt.

Pinning a bright, businesslike smile to her face, she asked Ilios   conversationally, ‘Is the interior of Villa Manos modelled on Villa Emo   as well as the exterior?'

This was another unfamiliar issue he was having to deal with, Ilios   acknowledged. The fact that not once since he had taken her to bed had   Lizzie made any reference to what had happened. Not so much as by a   look, never mind a word. Because she regretted what had happened?   Because her sexual desire for him, once satisfied, had vanished? Either   of those alternatives should have been welcomed by him, and yet here he   was feeling they were unsatisfactory-that the situation between them  was  unsatisfactory. It left him feeling that there was unfinished  business  between them, that he wanted …

He wanted what? To take her back to bed and repeat his reckless   behaviour? Double the chances of her becoming pregnant? Was that really   what he wanted? The ferocity with which his heart slammed into his ribs   caught him off guard. It was the realisation of what could happen that   had caused that surge of emotion inside him, that was all. Nothing  else.  The last thing he wanted was for Lizzie to be carrying his child.                       
       
           



       

Ilios forced himself to focus on Lizzie's question.

‘Yes and no,' he answered. ‘It is both similar and different-you will   have to judge for yourself. However, what I can tell you is that   structurally my ancestor followed Palladio's measurement ratio for the   interior, just as he did for the exterior, so the villa follows   Palladio's beliefs in the importance of architectural harmony.   Internally, the living space forms a classical central square core,   within which are six rooms that sizewise form repetitions of one of   Palladio's standard modules. For instance, either side of the entrance   hall are two rooms which are sixteen Trevisan feet in width by   twenty-seven Trevisan feet in length.' He paused, in case what he was   saying was going over Lizzie's head, but he could see from her   expression that she was following what he was saying perfectly.

‘To create a ratio of six to ten,' she agreed. ‘The perfect numbers in   Renaissance architecture. I've read references to Palladio's buildings   being like frozen music, because he adopted the proportions that   Pythagoras said produced combinations of notes that fall harmoniously on   the human ear.'

Ilios gave an approving nod of his head. ‘That Greek connection had   great appeal for my ancestor, according to our family lore. As far as   Villa Manos goes, in between the smaller rooms-the two I've already   mentioned-facing east and the west of the villa, are four more rooms   which together have the same Palladio measurements. The central grand   salon comprises two of those modules side by side, and the floor plan of   the piano nobile is repeated in a second piano nobile over it, with   mezzanine rooms in between.'

‘Like Villa Cornaro?'

‘You're obviously a Palladio fan.'

‘It's impossible not to be if you love classical architecture.' Lizzie   smiled. ‘I was half toying with the idea of training as an architect   when my parents died. It hadn't been my first choice of career, but   working as an interior designer showed me how important structure is.   From there … What is it?' she asked, when she saw how his own expression   had changed and hardened.

Reluctantly he told her, ‘My father was an architect, and as a boy it   was my ambition to follow in his footsteps in that regard-to build   modern structures in celebration of Palladio's own style, based on his   principles. Of course there wasn't the money, although as a boy I didn't   realise that. The Junta imposed such heavy taxes and fines on those  who  antagonised them, as my grandfather did, that they beggared him. He  was  left with nothing, and he had to watch Villa Manos falling into   disrepair, unable to do anything to halt that process. Keeping it in   defiance of the Junta was something of a pyrrhic victory for him. By the   time the Junta was deposed there was nothing left for him to sell or   mortgage, and certainly no money to educate me to the standard necessary   for me to train as an architect. He loved the villa more than he loved   any living person.'

Abruptly Ilios stopped speaking, wondering why he had allowed himself to   reveal so much about his childhood and his family, telling Lizzie   things he have never disclosed before to anyone, much less a woman who   had shared his bed.

What was it about her that caused him to react in the way he did? As   though she was different-and special? He must not exaggerate the   situation, or his own reactions to it, Ilios cautioned himself. It was   the fact that Lizzie was knowledgeable about Palladio and his work that   had led to him confiding in her the way he had, nothing more.

Lizzie fought back the emotional tears stinging the backs of her eyes as Ilios finished speaking.

‘But he must have loved you as well. After all, he left you the villa,'   she told him impulsively, wanting instinctively to ease what she knew   must be his hurt. Who would not be hurt in such circumstances?