The Greek’s Chosen Wife - Page 19

‘Close your eyes,’ Nik instructed her huskily.

The sun was a warm caress on her face and another smile curved her generous mouth as he lifted her hand.

‘You can look now,’ he told her.

Feeling his tension, she gazed down in lively surprise at the ring that now adorned her wedding finger, and the diamond so dazzling it made her blink.

‘It’s an engagement ring…a proper one.’

‘Oh…’ Her throat convulsed, her eyes misted over. Once she had been a dreaming teenager who made a naïve romantic statement out of the prosaic presentation of a family ring and lived to learn her mistake. For that reason the significance of Nik’s gift of a ring touched her to the heart, for it had been chosen especially for her and it was being given with sincerity.

‘I had it engraved with our names…and the date our marriage was blessed,’ Nik imparted.

‘It’s amazing…’

‘Let it mark our new beginning.’

She gazed up at his lean, dark, angular face, as always arrestingly aware of the strong, classic planes and hollows of his fabulous bone structure. He was so incredibly handsome but even while she fought the breathless sensation he always induced she felt moved to say gently, ‘You can’t rewrite the past-’

‘But we don’t need to go there,’ Nik incised in the same authoritative tone that he might have employed to teach a stubborn child a safety lesson. ‘You’re my wife now in every sense of the word, thespinis mou.’

Her tummy muscles tightened at the mere vibration of his rich, dark drawl and his words released a shocking tide of intimate memory. In every sense, she conceded, her mouth running dry as she acknowledged the extent of his power over her. Hot-blooded, passionate and unashamedly masculine as he was, Nik had broken down her every barrier and taught her to crave him like a drug. And in his strength was a hard core of bone-deep arrogance and obstinacy. Even as his intense charisma held her fast, she knew that he believed that he could rewrite history.

His brilliant gaze fully trained on her, Nik scored a provocative fingertip gently across her lush pink lower lip. ‘And you’re happy, aren’t you?’

‘Yes…’ The sensual spell he cast made her downright dizzy with longing.

‘The past…what came before doesn’t count now, thespinis mou,’ Nik drawled with immense satisfaction.

Her mobile phone buzzed and she tore her gaze from his to dig into her bag. It was Leo. ‘I’ve got the job…I’ve finally got a permanent job instead of a temporary contract!’

Prudence grinned. ‘Congratulations. I told you that you could do it. When will you be starting at the new school?’

‘Next month. When are you coming home?’

‘Tomorrow.’

‘I’m going to ask Stella to help me find somewhere to live in London.’

‘That’s a good idea.’

‘I’ll be able to see a lot more of Stella and the kids when I move to the city,’ Leo pronounced with satisfaction.

Prudence almost suggested that he try to find out how Stella would feel about that before he made assumptions, but decided that it would be wiser to mind her own business. Tucking her phone back in her bag, Prudence noticed that Nik’s dark gaze was resting on her. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘We’re running late for lunch at the Donnington’s.’

‘Oh, dear, my fault…I took ages getting dressed!’

‘No problem,’ Nik murmured in his dark, silken drawl. ‘Where’s Leo’s new school?’

‘London.’

Nik resisted the urge to comment on how convenient London was for Oakmere Abbey. After all, he knew that Leo was just a friend, a rather needy character, who discussed his every move in life with Prudence. Nik had decided that Leo was a wimp, whom his wife mothered. A baby would knock Leo’s current appeal stone dead, Nik thought cheerfully. Often the best solutions were the most basic and simple to execute…

CHAPTER SEVEN

A LINE OF very expensive vehicles lined the imposing approach to Robert Donnington’s palatial villa outside Florence.

‘I thought this was a casual lunch for just a few people,’ Prudence commented in dismay, horribly conscious that her sun dress could never hope to compete with the apparel of the guests who owned such cars. But she said nothing about the latter; it was hardly Nik’s fault that she had taken the word ‘casual’ too literally.

‘That is how the invitation was presented. But Robert’s daughter, Chantal, likes to party,’ Nik countered with a preoccupied air.

For an inescapable moment, Nik was thinking of the reality that Theo Demakis was currently lining up the big financial guns in an effort to bring him down. Theo had no idea that the marriage he had fostered had finally blossomed. Indeed, Nik had gone to great lengths to keep the fact a secret, because he was determined to keep Theo’s malign influence out of their lives. Even so, Nik was uneasily aware that he should have cut short their honeymoon and returned to London to prepare for the battle ahead. By staying on in Italy, he had left himself more exposed. Robert Donnington would back him. But the shrewd banker had already warned Nik that his sale of his multi-million-pound yacht to speed up the purchase of Oakmere Abbey had been badly timed, since it had dented his impregnable image and revealed a weak flank. Yet, given the chance to go back in time and let Oakmere go, Nik knew he would not have done anything differently; the abbey was Prudence’s dream come true and, like the honeymoon, little enough recompense in his opinion for the disappointments she had endured in the past.

When Chantal Donnington came to greet them, Prudence tensed. She immediately recognised her hostess as one of Nik’s exes. The willowy blonde’s gushing welcome was not matched by the coolness of her green eyes, and with the excuse of taking Nik to join her father in the all-male preserve of the snooker room she divided Nik as cleanly from his wife as a surgeon.

Parked on the grandiose terrace with an alcoholic drink she didn’t want, Prudence felt uncomfortably warm even in the shade. The golden heat of midday was like a blanket. She began to wonder if it was that time of the month-when she would sometimes feel under par-although it seemed like a very long time since she had suffered that particular reminder of her womanhood. She counted back the weeks and conceded that her menstrual cycle seemed to have been upset for some time. Were the birth-control pills the cause? She could not help recalling that her last period had been unusually brief. Was there a chance that the pills might not have done the trick and that she had fallen pregnant? No, that had to be wishful thinking, she scolded herself in exasperation.

Before she could dwell any longer on why she was not feeling her usual energetic and rudely healthy self, Chantal Donnington came over and trilled, ‘Let me introduce you to a couple of guests who are just dying to meet you…’

Prudence’s eyes widened when she saw a leggy dark-haired beauty in an outrageously short skirt approaching her. The brunette was accompanied by a spiky-haired blonde dressed in the sort of clinging white dress that only a very thin woman could aspire to wearing. Unless she was very much mistaken, and Prudence did not think her memory was at fault, she was about to meet another two of Nik’s former lovers. The feminine antagonism in the air made the skin prickle at the nape of her neck.

‘I’m Jenna Marsden,’ the brunette announced tautly.

‘Zoe Amberley,’ the blonde supplied with a challenging smile. ‘You may not be aware of the fact but we all have something in common.’

‘Nik…’ Prudence saw no point in pretending ignorance.

‘Nik Angelis is an extraordinary guy.’ Zoe’s husky voice made a suggestive meal of the statement and Prudence’s tension increased. ‘Quite unforgettable.’

‘Yes, he certainly lives up to his legendary reputation.’ Chantal rested spiteful green eyes on Prudence.

Although colour had blossomed over her cheekbones, Prudence just smiled as though she had the skin of a rhinoceros. ‘Doesn’t he just?’

‘When Chantal mentioned that Nik’s wife woul

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