Chapter Fifteen

Frankie added her signature under Nik’s and handed the document back to the notary. She straightened up. “So now we just have to exchange contracts and the Villa Lemoni will be ours?”

Nik stepped forward and slid his arm around her waist. “We are going to celebrate, pet hi mou. I have booked a table for dinner this evening at the best restaurant in town.” He turned to the notary. “Efcharisto. Thank you.”

After they’d left the notary’s office, Nik stopped. Placing a hand under her chin, he brushed a kiss across her lips. “I have to drop in at the club and deal with some paperwork. Take a taxi back to the apartment, serve yourself with a drink, and take a long, hot bath. I will see you there.” His eyes burned with a raw intensity that she recognised well.

“Okay,” she whispered, a need that matched his bubbling inside her. She watched him walk away across the square, his muscular body carrying his grey lightweight business suit with a sleek style that made other women turn and stare.

His penthouse apartment had a spectacular view of the harbor at Paragolis and, further down the sound, of the docks where ferries, oil tankers, and containers sailed in and out. After obeying orders and taking a luxurious soak in its sunken whirlpool bath, surrounded by candles, her muscles relaxed by the power-jets of hot water, she’d fished her black jersey maxi dress from her overnight bag and changed for dinner. Now, she was standing on the roof terrace taking in the maritime scene. This was where Nik’s brother, Dimitri, had started life. She swirled the ice cubes in her drink. It would be good to have a quiet, intimate dinner this evening, certainly to celebrate the purchase of the Villa Lemoni, but also because she wanted to tell Nik she was going to have to take a short trip back to the UK next week that she’d not anticipated, to sort out the sale of her partnership in the estate agency with Andrew. She really didn’t want to go, but the prospect that everything would be settled once and for all, and at the same time, she could retrieve some clothes and possessions to be shipped back to Kathos, had persuaded her she should. She also had an opportunity for marketing the villa to prospective British buyers once it had been refurbished through Andrew’s new agency—she was sure Nik would be pleased by what was on offer.

“Turtles swim in the harbor. Perhaps we will see them later.” He surprised her by coming up behind her and started nuzzling her neck, making her body leap in response. “You look and smell delicious, agape mou.” His hands came up to cup her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra. As his thumbs began caressing her nipples, they hardened and thrust against the thin material of her dress, desire for him infusing her belly. A small moan escaped her.

“Do you want to eat now or make love?” he asked softly. “They will hold the table for us.”

“Make love.” She rotated in his arms and felt his arousal press into her. “Now.” His mouth slammed down on hers, ravishing it.

Afterwards, as they walked hand in hand to a waterside taverna, she still vibrated from his fierce possession of her, when he had taken her from behind, pushing into her with hard thrusts, bringing both of them quickly into breathless, shattering climaxes. She wished they could skip dinner and just go to bed and spend the rest of the night in one another’s arms instead. She shot him a discreet sideways glance. Their physical need for one another was incredible, insatiable. But did he know that her feelings for him were growing stronger by the day too? Recently, in quiet moments, she’d begun to dream about a future with him, beyond working on the Villa Lemoni. That, in time, they might settle down together, and what it would be like to have his baby… She vigorously wiped away the fantasies from her mind, like she always did. What was the point of letting such notions run wild? He was Nik. He continued to hold back emotionally. He wanted her in his bed, but not forever in his life.

A few minutes later, they were seated by the taverna’s attentive owner at a secluded table on a private side-deck and being offered a traditional Greek dinner menu: marinated eggplant with mint and goat’s cheese accompanied by olive, lemon, and thyme and rosemary flatbread for their starter, leg of lamb with garlic and rosemary for the main course—served with roasted garbanzo beans, Swiss chard and potatoes with lemon vinaigrette—and sticky chocolate baklava to finish.

She gave him a saucy look from under her lashes as she set about her dessert. “The food here is amazing,” she pronounced, licking her spoon. “I’m glad we had sex before we ate. I’m almost full to bursting.”

A mellow smile curved his mouth. “Sex and food—the best combination. We will sleep well tonight.” He laid down his own spoon and finished his wine. “How are the preparations for the open day at KATS coming along?”

She swallowed another mouthful of baklava, savoring its gooey sweetness. “Okay so far. Thank you for helping with getting the posters displayed.”

He raised a hand. “You are welcome. I spoke to Kostas, and you will have a fire truck and a couple of crew. Theo and Até are getting very excited about being there too.”

She beamed. “That’s brilliant. It’s all coming together.” She hesitated. This was a good opportunity to bring up her trip. “Though it’s going to be a bit of a race to get everything done before I fly to the UK at the weekend. Ali and Gladys will have to deal with the last-minute stuff.”

“To the UK? And why are you planning to go there all of a sudden, pet hi mou?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Andrew has found someone who wants to partner with him in our estate agency and buy out my share. It will make things much easier if I travel to England and spend next week there getting everything handed over and the legal papers signed and sealed. I can also arrange for some of my stuff that has been sitting in my parents’ loft to be sent over here.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So you are planning on returning to Kathos?”

She felt her skin prickle a little. Why had his tone turned mocking? “Yes, of course. It’s just a week’s trip to sort out my life, and then I’ll be back here ready for the open day, and also to start work on the villa. We’ll need to have it finished by the end of the year if we are to get it on the market to sell. We want to catch prospective buyers who want it as a holiday home and ready to move into by next spring. Actually, with regard to selling, Andrew will advertise it to British clients through his agency—”

“You have asked your husband to sell our villa?” Nik cut in, his expression tense now.

“No, he’s offered to do it…and I feel it’s a good move. It makes sense to try as many avenues as possible, and I think there will be people who’ll be interested in a Mediterranean retreat where they can away from the rainy weather back home. I can get it organized next week. We can put it on here with a local agent as well,” she added hurriedly when she saw his brows draw together and his face darken.

He rubbed his chin, his stubble making a rasping sound against his fingers. “I thought we were partners, Frankie. Did it not occur to you to consult me first before you and your husband discussed this?”

She chewed her lip. “I thought you trusted me to take care of the property sales side. That’s part of my role, isn’t that what we agreed? I do the interior design and work with the builders, and then I get it sold. You are the investor and line up all the services and deal with the legal stuff.”

“We did indeed agree that, agapimeni mou. But I presumed you would discuss important decisions such as this with me first, and I do not remember agreeing to include your husband in our deal.” His gaze on her narrowed as he asked coolly, “If he sells the villa, he will be receiving a commission, I presume?”

“No, and that’s the most appealing aspect. He’s said he’ll do it for free. And remember, he’ll soon be my ex-husband.”

Nik leaned back in his chair, rapping out an impatient beat on its arm. “But still your friend.” He bit out that last word. “So you and your soon-to-be ex-husband have this all sewn up between you?”

She felt a flush rise up her neck, perplexed and hurt as to why her good intentions were being misunderstood. “It isn’t like that. You’re making it sound all underhand and sneaky! I was just trying to do my best to market the property when it’s ready, and the fact I can have it done for no fee—”

“But why did you not consult me first? Why keep it a secret?”

“I haven’t kept a secret! You said you trusted me to deal with the sale of the property, and I’m telling you about it now. If you really object, I can cancel it.”

She could see something fierce burning in his eyes. He turned and signaled to the waiter to bring the bill. He reached inside his jacket, which was hanging on the back of his chair, and withdrew his wallet and credit card. “I find it hard to understand why you would want to continue to stay in touch and do business with the man you are divorcing. Who cheated on you.”

“Yes, he betrayed me with another woman, and that was devastating. You know that. But that never prejudiced me to the fact that he’s as straight as a die when it comes to real estate and extremely good at sales and marketing.”

“You are very forgiving of him and what he did to you.”

Frankie could feel her hands balling into tight fists in her lap. She blew out a calming breath. “Actually, I have just about forgiven him. It’s actually very empowering and helpful for moving on and letting go.”

He shot her another searing look and turned to attend to the payment of the dinner bill. “But if you are still including him in our plans, then it would seem to me that you haven’t moved on at all.” He stood up abruptly. “It is getting late. We should go back to the apartment.”

Frankie also rose and followed him out of the taverna, temporarily rendered speechless by his obtuse statement. Why couldn’t he understand that she was finally reaching an amicable end to her marriage, an outcome she was happy with? And that it had brought the opportunity of a smart commercial deal. Why couldn’t he see that both outcomes were good for her and for him?

He took her arm, and they started walking along the brightly lit street. She could see from the set of his jaw that he was annoyed. “Why are you making such a fuss about this?” she demanded, finding her voice again. “What is your problem?”

He stopped in his tracks and faced her. “My problem?” he gritted. “Can you not see how this looks? I find you in the arms of your husband who you are supposed to be divorcing, and you tell me that you hope you will be friends with him. Then, without warning, you announce you are returning to him and allowing him to handle the sale of our joint property. Yet you tell me that your marriage to him is over and you have moved on. I do not think so!”

She shook herself free of his grip, emotion boiling up inside her. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Nik, it’s not like that at all! You’re putting the worst spin on it!”

“I am saying it as it appears to me, pet hi mou. You appear unable to let go of him.”

“Who are you to judge me about letting go?” she flared, emotion coursing through her and loosening her tongue. “You who refuse to commit to a woman because your fiancée dumped you ten bloody years ago? How is that letting go?” As soon as the angry words had flown out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back.

He looked briefly stricken, then took his hand away from her arm and started walking away at a fast pace.

“Wait!” she called after him, then pulled up the skirt of her long dress and began running after him. She caught up with him. “I’m sorry,” she panted, “I shouldn’t have said that—”

He kept walking and didn’t look at her. “You have been listening to gossip again,” he grated, “And you accuse me of judging you.”

“Nik, I really am sorry. It was very wrong of me to say it.”

By now, they had reached the main door to the apartment building. He hammered in the code to the entry keypad. She followed him inside, and they rode up in the lift without speaking. She leaned against the wall, her head reeling; how had everything blown up and got this out of control so quickly?

When they entered the apartment, he spun around and faced her, his expression like granite, stony and hard. “Go and pack your belongings. I will order a taxi to take you back to Agia Kalamaros.”

“Nik, please! Let’s talk. It’s all a dreadful misunderstanding—”

He surveyed her with a black glare. “On the contrary, I now understand everything.” He inhaled. “It is over.”

She stood for a moment feeling winded, as if she’d been punched. “Nik, no—”

He cut across her. “Everything is finished between us. I will have my lawyer transfer the title deed of the villa to me and cancel our agreement.”

“You can’t do that!” she responded, aghast.

“I can. After all, I am paying for it all.”

“But I signed an agreement with you, which you have to honor!”

“So sue me,” he invited.

She remained rooted to the spot, silent with shock, her heart pounding.

“I have nothing more to say to you. I will call that cab, and you can be on your way back to England. And your husband.”