She saw Fotis’ eyes widen.
‘You didn’t know? She was just sixteen when Gaudreaudiscoveredher and gave her a small part in the film he was shooting. She and her parents were in a village near where the film was being made. By the time it was in post-production he’d decided to make her a star. Or at least a sexy starlet.’ Her lip curled. ‘He took her under his wing, had her live with him so he couldnurture her talent.’
She watched Fotis’ expression darken, instantly understanding the euphemism for what it was. The famous director had been a controlling predator.
‘But her parents! If she told them—’
Rosamund shook her head. ‘They traded their daughter for money. Everything she earned on the first films went straight to them. She was young and inexperienced and shewasexcited at the idea of acting. Until she found out the whole of what he wanted from her.’
Her throat closed as she remembered her mother telling her this. Not seeking sympathy, but as a warning about those who preyed on vulnerable young people, particularly women. ‘She tried to leave several times, only to be told that if she did he’d sue her parents for breach of contract and ruin them.’
Yet, even knowing that terrible truth about her mother’s early career, Rosamund had fallen for another sort of predator in her teens. She hadn’t seen the parallels until it was too late. She could only guess how difficult it had been for her mother to be so frank about the abuse she’d endured. Every time she thought about it, Rosamund hated herself for being duped, as if it were a betrayal of her mother’s trust.
She was only glad her mother hadn’t been alive to witness her mistake. Though if she’d lived maybe things would have been different.
It was easier to think about the red dress. ‘Gaudreau knew she’d upstage the star of the film wearing that dress. It made her a household name. Which boosted his career too, since he controlled hers. At least in the beginning.’
What was it with the women in her family and controlling men? First her mother, who’d taken years to find her feet and build a career separate from that loathsome old man. Then, when she was at the pinnacle of her career, she’d fallen for a handsome prince. Too late she’d discovered that while he lusted after the sexy screen siren, he was jealous of her easy charisma and popularity, continually finding fault with his vivacious, charming wife.
Then Rosamund. After her mother’s death, her father had become ever more watchful and disapproving, decreeing what she could wear and whom she could meet. Was it any wonder she’d fallen for a handsome, laughing man who played on her need for love? Both men had used her for their own ends.
Was it any wonder she refused to be used anymore? Or that trust came hard?
‘So, you see, I couldn’t have worn it. That would have been a betrayal of my mother. Gaudreau was just trying to stir interest in those early films, the ones they made together. He wanted to make the event about himself.’
Warmth closed around her hand and she looked down to see Fotis’ fingers curling around hers. As ever, she was struck by how well they fitted together, as if made for each other despite their disparity in size.
‘I do see, and I’m sorry I misinterpreted the situation. Your mother would be proud of you.’
‘I…’ She shrugged, suddenly finding it hard to speak. Her mum had been her rock and Rosamund had felt adrift for so long after her early death. She still felt her loss.
Remarkably, it seemed Fotis guessed some of what she felt for he nodded. ‘She raised a remarkable woman. Caring but no pushover. Fiery but clever and determined. I can’t believe I ever thought you a spoiled socialite.’
His words stunned her. Their physical intimacy had changed their relationship into one of ease and respect. But there was still so much they didn’t know about each other. Yet here he was, talking about her in terms that made her suddenly eager heart shudder open.
Inevitably, Rosamund thought of her mother, the only one who’d ever praised her like that.
Fotis might have read her mind. ‘Here’s to Juliette Bernard.’
‘To my beautiful mum.’
The fruity wine trickled down her throat and spread with it a sense of peace. Maybe because, for the first time, she’d spoken unreservedly about the woman who meant so much to her.
Because Fotis understood. His anger when he heard what Gaudreau had done and his approval of her mum and herself felt like balm spread on unhealed wounds.
Over the years her father had twisted her mother’s character into something negative. Enthusiasm was described as heedless passion. Generosity became recklessness. Warmth and charisma turned into undisciplined and unrefined behaviour. The very virtues that had attracted him, and won over his people, became character flaws he’d been determined to extinguish in his daughter.
Rosamund turned to the man beside her, who still held her hand clasped in his. His brow was furrowed in thought, his mouth flat as he stared over the vast Aegean.
If he’d wondered about her, it couldn’t be nearly as much as she’d pondered him.
He fascinated her and with every day her curiosity rose. Fotis Mavridis wasn’t the man she’d first thought, at least not all the way through. He could be harsh and forbidding. He was ruthless and capable, breathtakingly so. She remembered the efficiency with which he’d disabled her attacker in France, ignoring his own injuries as he kept her safe.
But he was thoughtful and generous. Their lovemaking was a revelation, his passion and tenderness unlocking something deep within her that made her want to know everything about him.
He’d happily connected with disadvantaged teenagers in a city slum, even offering one a remarkable opportunity for the future. Her visits to the village here had elicited stories about his generosity. Not just his ability to fund infrastructure, but his genuine involvement in the community.
Tassos, who’d been born on the island, had served in the military with Fotis and lost half his leg while on duty. According toYiayiaIrini, it was Fotis who’d dragged him out of his depression and funded extra therapy for him when he got his prosthetic leg. Later he’d offered him a job as an analyst. Now the man was rebuilding his life, working for Fotis and preparing to marry.
