But when it came to strategy, Apollo was very much on a level with Vito in business. He had misjudged his audience when he’d waited for Pixie to throw a jealous scene at the club, had actually felt pretty offended when she’d failed to deliver on that front but he wouldn’t make that mistake again. No, he would listen and observe and learn until their marriage became much more civilised and both of them got what they wanted out of the arrangement. That was the rational approach and designed to provide the most desirable result, he reasoned with satisfaction.
While Apollo was deliberating with what he believed to be perfect rationality, Pixie was feeling as irrational as a bunch of dandelion seeds left to blow hither and thither in the wind. She had no guidance, no foundation stone for the strong feelings that assailed her when Apollo, apparently quite naturally, wrapped both arms tightly around her. He made her feel safe. He made her feel as if he cared. He made her feel as if she was indeed special. And even though the common sense in her hind brain was already sneering that she was nothing in comparison with the leggy, glamorous underwear models of the type he favoured, she was happy for the first time in a long time, happy instead of just getting through the day...
She decided she wasn’t going to waste energy worrying or picking herself apart with self-loathing criticisms. He was right on one thing: she wanted him. And if their marriage was to work on any level they had to have that chemistry and use it accordingly. A lean hand smoothed down her spine and she quivered and stopped thinking altogether.
* * *
Apollo had already laid the trail and Hector was becoming an old hand at following treat trails.
The scruffy little animal crept out from his roofed hidey hole of a basket and snuffled up the treats, inching half under Apollo’s desk while Apollo pretended to ignore his progress. Every week the little terrier dared to move a little closer to the male who terrified him—not that Apollo took that personally. Hector was uniformly terrified of every man that came into his vicinity and considerably more trusting of the female sex. He had first bonded with Pixie in the vet surgery where his injuries had been tended. Pixie had worked next door and, being friendly with the veterinary nurse, had often visited the homeless dogs in their cages. Although Pixie had worked and did not have a garden, the vet had deemed her a good prospective owner because Hector had taken to her immediately.
At least, though, Hector was rather more predictable than Pixie, Apollo conceded with a frown.
He could see that Pixie didn’t really trust anything he said. It was as if she was fully convinced that he could never be anything other than a womaniser, as if she believed he carried some genetic flaw that made him unsuitable for any other purpose, and it was quietly driving him crazy. He had never met a woman so resistant to his attempts to change her mind about him. In bed, she was his perfect match, the only woman he had ever met as highly sexed as he was, but beyond that bedroom door she was blind to his best efforts. He tossed a squeaky toy across the desk in Hector’s direction. He was expecting the dog to run away from it but Hector took him by surprise and pounced with apparent glee on the toy and pummelled it with his paws, seemingly pleased by the frantic squeaking that resulted.
* * *
Pixie stretched a daring toe out of the bed and slowly sat up, checking her newly unreliable body for the roiling wave of sickness that had attacked her on several occasions throughout the week. Even though she stood up equally slowly, that was still when the nausea hit and with a groan she raced for the bathroom. After a shower she got dressed, her stomach restored to normality again. Was she pregnant? If she was, she could only be at a very early stage and she doubted that she could already be suffering from nausea. Her hopes, after all, had been dashed after the first couple of weeks of their marriage passed and her cycle kicked in as normal. It had seemed incredible to her even then that all that sex hadn’t led straight to conception. This time, however, her period was a little late but not late enough to risk raising false hopes, so she had said nothing to Apollo as yet.
A false alarm would be embarrassing but what was really bothering her was the disturbing suspicion that even if she had conceived she still wouldn’t want to rush into telling him. And why would that be?
Pixie coloured as she pulled on shorts and a tee and then dried her hair. No, she still wasn’t using the on-board beauty salon for that because she had always liked doing her own hair. She was using it for other services though, she conceded, glancing at her perfectly manicured nails and equally well-groomed brows. Apollo’s wealthy lifestyle was slowly but surely overtaking the former ordinary informality of hers. It scared her to accept that she was becoming accustomed to wearing designer clothes and expensive jewellery. Apollo called it ‘looking the part’ and she had to agree that nobody would take their marriage seriously if she went around dressed like a beggar or a bag lady. But even so, sometimes she felt as though she was losing an essential part of herself and that would have to be her independence.
Of course, everything would change if she was pregnant, she told herself unhappily. Apollo would reclaim his previous life and return happily to acting like the biggest man whore in Europe. After all, once a pregnancy was achieved there would be no reason for him to stay with Pixie or settle for having only one woman in his life. There wouldn’t even be a reason for him to share a bed with her any longer...it would be the effective end of their supposed marriage.
And there it was. The sad truth that lay at the heart of her anxieties. She was hopelessly in love with a husband who wasn’t a real husband. She had learned so much about Apollo over the past six weeks and he was not at all like the playboy he was depicted as in the tabloids and on the gossip sites on the Internet. She had always wondered why he and Vito, who was rather serious in nature, were such close friends when at first glance as men they were so very unalike. And in temperament, family background and outlook they were very different but not anything like as different as Pixie had originally assumed.
Apollo supported loads of charities and the main one, she had discovered, was a charity for abused children. But the charitable cause possibly closest to his heart was an abandoned pets’ sanctuary he had set up in Athens. On the Metraxis island of Nexos he had also established a therapy centre where the more damaged animals were rehabilitated and she couldn’t wait to visit it and possibly pick up a few tips from the professionals there on how best to handle Hector’s fear. It was hard facts of that nature that had begun to eradicate Pixie’s former hostile distrust of Apollo.
Ever since that evening at the nightclub when they had both lost their tempers, the mood had changed between them. They had not been apart for even a night since then. Pixie’s mouth quirked. She wasn’t sure Apollo could get by one night without sex. Or that she could. Indeed the stormy fizzing passion they shared in bed thrilled her almost as much as it could still unnerve her. Naturally they still fought on occasion but in every way their relationship seemed so normal that it was a continual battle for Pixie to remember that their marriage wasn’t really a marriage at all, but a business arrangement with the ultimate goal of conception and a very firm end date.
Her brother, Patrick, however, wasn’t aware of those facts and brother and sister talked regularly on the phone. Since the wedding her brother had become more honest, finally admitting that he did have a problem with gambling. Patrick was now seeing an addiction counsellor and attending Gamblers Anonymous on a regular basis. Although Pixie had been furious when she’d realised that Apollo had confronted her brother about his issues without consulting her, she had changed her mind on that score, deciding that even though she hadn’t liked Apollo’s methods his approach had been the right one. After all, but for Apollo’s intervention she wouldn’t even have known that her sibling was still gambling. Furthermore, given advice and support, Patrick now had a much better chance of overcoming his gambling dependency and living a happier and much safer life.
It probably wasn’t even slightly surprising that she had fallen so hard for Apollo, Pixie reflected ruefully. He was her first lover, her first everything and like any legendary stud he had buckets of charisma when he tried to impress. And that was what she couldn’t afford to forget, Pixie reminded herself doggedly: Apollo was faking it for her benefit and his. Did he think that she was so stupid that she didn’t know that?
Obviously every seemingly concerned or pleasant thing he had done around her was a giant fake!
After all, the stress and strain of a bad relationship could prevent her from getting pregnant while simple strife would keep her out of his bed. So, when she had dived off the top deck of Circe to surprise him because she was a very proficient swimmer and diver and Apollo had gone ballistic at the supposed dangerous risk he had deemed her to have taken, his evident concern for what might have happened to her couldn’t possibly have been genuine. If she killed herself diving it would be inconvenient for him but with his resources and attraction he would quickly replace her, Pixie thought, miserably melodramatic in the mood she was in.
In the same way, the many trips they had shared, stopping off to swim and picnic in secluded coves and explore enchanting little villages on various Greek islands were not to be taken too seriously. Apollo enjoyed showing off the beauties of his homeland and was a great deal better educated than she had initially appreciated. She had discovered that he could give her chapter and verse on every ancient Greek or Roman site they came on. Her fingers fiddled restively with the little gold and diamond tiger pendant she wore. He had given her that a week after that nightclub scene, telling her that she was much more than a kitten with claws. Since she had scored his back in the heat of passion with her nails the night before he had given it to her she had laughed in appreciation. And that had annoyed Apollo, something she seemed to do sometimes without even meaning to, she acknowledged with regret.