She clenched her champagne glass tighter, a stern voice roaring to life in her mind, warning her off such foolish delusions. She’d already had her heart badly broken by seeing things that weren’t there. Nikos had always been honest with her—if not about his wife, about his unavailability. No matter what she might feel and want, he was not interested in anything longer term. She couldn’t get swept up in wanting more. No matter how tempting it was.
‘I’ve never thought of that,’ she said, sipping her champagne, simply to do something other than speak—lest the words she was thinking tumble out of her mouth.
‘It was almost the first thing I noticed about you.’
But he was making it so hard to remember that this was fake.It’s just sex.She had to cling to that lifeline, to keep it emblazoned in her mind.It doesn’t mean anything.
‘I thought you should have the ring on tonight, as we will undoubtedly be photographed.’
It should have made her feel better, to know that his gift of the ring was linked to their ruse, after all. He saw a weird sort of salvation in getting Genevieve out from under James’s shadow, and so he was going to play his part to perfection.
Because Nikos was driven by a torturous guilt, and in fixing this for Genevieve, he thought he could alleviate some of it. Or at least not feel more of it.
‘Do you find that strange?’
‘The publicity?’
She nodded once.
‘I live on my own, in a cabin on an island. What do you think?’
She smiled at that. What she wouldn’t give to go back to that cabin… ‘Has it always been like this?’
For a moment, his expression darkened, and his jaw grew tight, so she knew she’d hit a sore point. She reached out, putting a hand on his arm. ‘You don’t have to answer.’
His eyes lanced hers, his features grim. ‘It started with my marriage. I had been very successful, professionally, already, and Isabella…she enjoyed the attention that came from being my wife.’ He looked past Genevieve’s shoulder. ‘She courted the media, arranged interviews with high-end, glossy magazines, attended glamorous events and parties. It had the unintended consequence of turning us into tabloid fodder. As my business successes continued, and my wealth became unusual, the press interest likewise increased.’ He shifted his gaze back to her face, his eyes stormy once more. ‘And when she died, it was as though a pack of vultures had found a fresh carcass. They were everywhere I went. So I went away.’
Genevieve shook her head softly. ‘You don’t have to answer this, either,’ she said, moving closer because it didn’t feel right to have this conversation and not be touching him. ‘But how did she…?’
‘A car accident.’
Genevieve reached up and cupped his stubbled cheek. ‘Why do you blame yourself for that, Nikos? An accident is an accident.’
He closed his eyes briefly and she felt his pain as though it were her own. She moved her hand from his cheek to his back, curving it behind his spine and stroking him slowly.
‘She had been upset, on the phone, only an hour before she died. She wanted me to come home, but I was working. I was in the midst of negotiating to buy a string of golf resorts across Europe—I had been negotiating the deal for months, and it had come to the final stages. She was furious.’
Genevieve made a clucking sound of sympathy.
‘I grew up so poor, Genevieve. After my father’s death…’ His throat shifted and he shook his head. ‘On the island, you asked about the choices my mother had to make. I didn’t realise, at first, what she resorted to, in order for us to survive.’
Genevieve blinked up at him, waiting, feeling the way he was opening up to her, sharing himself.
‘Selling herself,’ he muttered. ‘It was her only option.’
Genevieve closed her eyes on a wave of pity.
‘I was too young to help, and she died before I turned my life around.’
Genevieve reached out, putting a hand on his forearm. His jaw only tightened.
‘Then all of a sudden, I was making money, hand over fist. More money than you can possibly imagine. I didn’t care about things like this.’ He gestured to the yacht. ‘It was about each deal, each metric of success, that made me feel I’d come so far from the boy I’d been. That made me feel safe, like I would never again know that kind of poverty. I can’t explain it properly, but growing up like that, it shaped the man I am today. No matter what amount of wealth I have, I have spent years feeling as though that poverty is right there, a shadow waiting to swallow me back into it.’
‘I understand,’ Genevieve murmured. ‘Once my dad died, we struggled, too. It was such a stark contrast to how it had been before. So when I met James and he love-bombed me with expensive gifts and amazing experiences, I got totally caught up in that lifestyle.’
Their eyes held for a long moment of shared understanding. ‘But you walked away.’
‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I walked away, because I couldn’t possibly stay. I believe, in my heart of hearts, that Isabella would have divorced you, if she’d been as miserable as you believe.’
