When Christakos Meets His Match(13)

                She sat back and tried not to notice how confined the space was. Their elbows kept touching lightly when they moved. Their thighs would be touching if she shifted hers towards him by about an inch. His legs were so long he had to spread them wide.

                Instantly warm again, Sidonie answered before he could comment. ‘My father was Irish. My mother went to Dublin many years ago...she met my father and stayed in Dublin and they got married.’

                Sidonie slid her gaze from Alexio’s, afraid he might see something of her very deep shame revealed. It wasn’t exactly the way things had happened, but near enough. He didn’t need to know the darker secrets of her parents’ relationship and her origins. Or about subsequent shattering events.

                She looked at him. ‘And you?’

                His expression became veiled, piquing her interest.

                ‘My mother was Spanish and my father is Greek. But you probably knew that.’

                Sidonie answered, ‘I didn’t realise your mother was Spanish...’

                ‘I presume your fluent French is from your mother?’

                Sidonie nodded and took another sip of tea. She realised then that if only she wasn’t so aware of Alexio it would actually be quite nice talking to him.

                ‘She spoke French to me all the time, and my father encouraged it. He knew it would come in handy at some stage.’

                ‘You were close to your father?’

                She nodded. ‘Why do you ask?’

                Alexio reached out and to Sidonie’s shock touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers for a fleeting second.

                ‘Because your face softened when you mentioned him.’

                Sidonie touched her cheek where he had touched her and felt embarrassed. She ducked her face again, wishing her hair was down so she could hide. ‘I loved him. He was a wonderful man.’

                ‘You’re lucky to have had that... My father...we don’t exactly see eye to eye.’

                Sidonie glanced back at him, grateful for the attention to be off her, and laughed slightly. ‘Surely he must be one of the proudest fathers in the world?’

                Alexio smiled, but it was grim. ‘Ah, but my success didn’t come through him. I fought for my own piece of the pie and he’s never forgiven me for it.’

                * * *

                Just then they were interrupted again, when a different stewardess came along to clear up their rubbish. It gave Alexio a reality check and he balked inwardly.

                What on earth was he doing? Blithely spilling his guts to a complete stranger because he was momentarily mesmerised by pale skin, beautiful eyes and a very supple, slim body?

                When the stewardess had gone and Alexio was still berating himself he saw Sidonie undo her seatbelt buckle.

                She looked at him expectantly before saying, ‘I need to go to the bathroom. Please.’

                Relieved to have a chance to gather his completely scattered senses, Alexio undid his own seatbelt and stood up. Deliberately he didn’t move out into the aisle completely, so that Sidonie had to brush past him. He saw the flash in her eyes, making them sparkle a brilliant blue-green, and felt that punch to his gut again.