Greek Tycoon, Wayward Wife(42)

‘We’re in Athens,’ he said suddenly. ‘We’re in Athens and it’s snowing.’ All right, the options are limited, Delikaris, but surely you could have thought of something other than that?

The tension in Libby’s chest, the growing movement towards the black hole was immediately immobilised. Had he just said Athens? In the snow?

Rion couldn’t miss the way her whole body seemed to pull back from the brink just a fraction. Oh, what the hell? If it took her mind off this… Reminding her that even their wedding day had been a let-down was hardly going to make any difference after all that he’d been forced to reveal tonight.

‘We’re slowly making our way to the town hall—on foot, through the National Gardens, because the taxi can’t make it up the road.’

‘They haven’t got round to clearing it yet,’ she whispered, her words slurring into each other a little at first. ‘But a few people are just starting to come outside with shovels.’ The memories seemed to form a dam in her mind, holding back the rising panic.

‘And we manage to talk an old man and woman into coming with us to witness the ceremony—’

‘In exchange for the promise of hot chocolate.’

To Rion’s astonishment she smiled—and it wasn’t tinged with any of the distaste he would have expected. Only because she’d temporarily lost control of her faculties, he was sure, but for a second he allowed himself to forget that.

‘They thought we were crazy.’ He smiled too.

We were hung in the air. But neither of them said it.

Suddenly the lift made that pinging sound again and the doors opened.

But Libby barely even registered it, because she was looking at him with tears in her eyes and she couldn’t look away.





CHAPTER ELEVEN




‘WE’RE here.’

His words broke the spell. Libby blinked hard, forced the tears back behind her eyes, and looked down at her feet. To her astonishment she realised they were still firmly planted inside the lift. Even though the doors were wide open. How was that even possible?

‘Are you okay to walk?’

She nodded, not entirely sure that she was.

Rion looped his arm through hers and encouraged her out onto the landing, but she couldn’t focus forward. She kept looking back over her shoulder, trying to work out what the hell had just happened. How could she have felt less restricted in a small space with another person than she would have done alone?

‘You’re okay,’ he whispered, mistaking her backward glance for a look of trepidation. ‘I promise we’ll take the stairs from now on.’

Oh, she was scared, all right, but she didn’t think the kind of fear she was feeling now could be eradicated by avoiding enclosed spaces.

He delved into his jacket pocket for the key as they reached a large wooden door. ‘At least our room is bound to be spacious.’

Her vision was still a little blurry, but when he unlocked the door there was no mistaking that it was. Nor was there any mistaking that, despite its gargantuan dimensions, there was only the one bed. An enormous four-poster bed, bedecked with crisp cream sheets and decadent aubergine drapes. It stood in the middle of the room, staring back at them like an enormous question mark. Or at least that was how it seemed to Libby.

‘You should sit down,’ he said, his voice raspy. She had a feeling the bed seemed that way to him too.

He strode across to the windows, which stretched the length of the opposite wall, and opened a couple to let in the cool evening breeze. Then he disappeared through a doorway at the far end of the room.

Libby was still standing dazedly in the same spot when he returned, carrying a glass of water.

‘Here.’ He swapped the glass for the handbag she was still clutching in her right hand, and dipped his head in the direction of the bed, his voice more insistent this time. ‘Sit.’

Libby did as he commanded whilst he pulled up a chair, shrugged off his jacket and sat down facing her.

‘When did it start?’

She tried to sound breezy, raising the glass to her lips to take a sip of water. ‘Oh, you know—when do all these things start? When I was a kid.’

‘When you were a child?’ She felt him strain not to raise his voice. ‘How did I not know about this?’ He shook his head as if her answer wouldn’t compute. ‘We lived on the fourth floor!’

‘We didn’t exactly enter or leave the apartment together very frequently,’ she said quietly. ‘Besides, the lift was usually out of order.’

Rion smarted, but let it go. ‘Do you know what started it in the first place?’

Libby drew in a short, sharp breath, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. Especially now that she knew it was nothing compared to what he’d gone through in his childhood. ‘I think being locked in the cupboard below the stairs for hours at a time if I displeased my father had something to do with it.’