So more than once, then. It hadn’t been the first time. Of course it hadn’t been, she thought with self-directed sarcasm. Affairs built up to the ‘let’s screw in your marital bed’ phase. They didn’t begin there, surely. “How did it start?”
“Baby,” his tone was designed to make her feel unreasonable. “This is not a conversation to be had over the phone. Come home. Let’s talk properly.”
“No.” She squeezed it tight. Now the tears began to slide down her cheeks. She dashed them away but new ones simply took their place.
“No?” He was silent for a long moment. “Saffy, you’re the one I love. I’ve always loved you. Anita was … she’s nothing. Nothing to me. Let’s never speak to her again.”
“God!” She shook her head angrily. “You’re such an arse. She’s my best friend! I’ve known her forever. Did you have any idea what it would do to me to discover that the two people I love most in the world have been carrying on like this?”
“Of course I didn’t think of that,” he hissed. “I didn’t think at all. I was an idiot. A complete wanker.”
“Yeah, you sure as hell were. Jesus, we’ve been married two months! Two months! Was it going on before the wedding?”
He didn’t answer immediately and foul regret and suspicion brewed in her gut. “She was my maid of honor,” Saff intoned flatly. “What a bloody stereotype we are, huh?”
“Saffy, it doesn’t need to be like this. Just come home. Just let me explain.”
“There is no explanation. Only atonement.”
“What does that mean?” He begged. “I will do anything. I will do anything you want. I just don’t want this to be over. Please just tell me what I need to do.”
She stared, unseeing, at the sparkling ocean in front of her. “There’s nothing you can do. It’s all up to me.” And she disconnected the call then switched her phone straight off to prevent him from calling back.
She didn’t stand up straight away. Instead, she cradled her knees to her chest, and placed her head down on them for support, and she sobbed silently.
She didn’t know if it was grief over her husband or her friend, or anger at the betrayal and dishonesty, but she wept for the whole torrid mess that her life had become.
5
“I’m telling you, Rocco, she’s a dream.”
His friend laughed down the phone line. “Now I see why you didn’t wish me to join you.”
Thad grinned. “You would definitely have cramped my style, man.”
“You met her the day of the funeral?”
“Yeah.” Thad stared at his emails and grimaced. There were hundreds that should have been dealt with, and not one caught his attention.
“How?”
“Long story,” he said, unwilling to share the details of their relationship, even with a man he thought of almost as a brother. “It was random. A thousand things could have gone wrong and we wouldn’t have met.”
Rocco was incapable of speaking for several long moments. “You’ve known her how long? A few days? And you speak as if this is some kind of fateful love-match.”
Thaddeus ran his finger over the keyboard slowly, thoughtfully. “Don’t be absurd. I’m not a fool. She’s not looking for anything serious and God knows, nor am I.” The denial felt heavy in his mouth, the words unnatural.
Rocco nodded, but an instinct in his gut was unsettled. “What does she do?”
“Do? You mean for work?” His smile was indulgent. “I have no clue.”
The suspicions grew. “And how old is she?”
“Mid-twenties?”
“Christ, Thad, do you even know her name?”
Thaddeus smiled triumphantly. “Saphire Arana, and she lives in Notting Hill.”
“Great, so you know her name and roughly her address,” Rocco murmured, scrawling both down in his notebook. “What else?”
“We have not spent time interviewing one another,” Thad hedged defensively.
“I bet I can guess how you’ve spent your time.” Rocco clicked the lid back on his pen. “Let me guess; she’s a classic Thaddeus super babe? Blonde? Big tits? Legs that go on forever? Skin the color of burnt sugar?”
“Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong,” he shook his head. Actually, except about her breasts, which were perfection personified. “She’s petite, with hair as dark as night, skin that’s the color of clotted cream and lips … God, her lips.” He sighed. “And her eyes … they are bluer than the sky on a crisp summer’s day. She is exquisite, Rocco. Exquisite.”
He pushed the lid of his MacBook down. How could he even think of work when Saphire was there? It was a waste of his time and energy. “And she makes me laugh,” he added as he stood.
Rocco, in all their years as mates, had never heard Thad describe a woman in such a way. And because their friendship scored deep in both men, and because Rocco felt a concern over Thad’s state of mind given the recent bereavement he had suffered, he knew that he had to do something to protect his friend.
Gorgeous, available women didn’t just fall into men’s laps in their hour of need. Something was wrong with this little situation, and Rocco knew, even as he hung up the call, that he would not rest until he’d found out what it was.
It was set a little further down the shoreline than the jetty his speedboat was moored to. A second boat was anchored just off-shore; bigger and far more prestigious. Saphire wasn’t much of a fan of boats, but her father and husband had both enjoyed their fair share of time on luxurious yachts. She knew from information she’d gleaned from their conversations that the boat in front of her was a top-of-the-line craft.
“What is this?” She murmured.
“You didn’t want to go to Athens,” he said simply, holding her hand as she stepped into the small motor-boat.
Her eyes flew to his.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Relax,” he smiled at her as he crouched beside the engine and pulled it to life. It hummed with power; it took only a minute for it to cut through the shallow waters and pull them alongside the bigger boat.
“You want me to climb up there?” She said uncertainly. Her tummy was in knots; it had nothing to do with this man, for once, and everything to do with the mess that was waiting for her back home.
“You’re not going to claim to be afraid of heights, are you?” He teased.
She sent him a droll look. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“That’s my girl.”
More pain. She wasn’t his girl. She never would be. “I’m not dressed for anything other than this boat,” she warned him, as she hooked a bare foot onto the lowest rung of the ladder and begun to climb up. Though she’d taken one of his work shirts and wore it like an over-sized dress, cinched at the waist with one of his belts. It was almost a passably fashionable ensemble.
“You are dressed perfectly, from where I sit,” he teased, enjoying the view of her rear as she got to the top of the ladder.
“Perve,” she called over her shoulder. She winced when she saw a man in uniform standing with his hand extended, to help her onto the deck. “Thank you.” Her cheeks glowed fire-engine red. She ran her hands down the front of her dress and kept her eyes trained on the ocean. The sun was setting, casting the sky in shades of purple and silver.
Thad climbed up with an easy athleticism and then stepped aside, so that the man in the suit could climb down and take the small boat back to shore.
“Oh, he’s not staying?” She asked with a lifted brow.
“No.”
Pleasure purred inside of her despite the distressing phone call she’d made that morning.
“I think I’m glad,” she said, reaching down and weaving her fingers through his.
“I am a selfish man, and I am definitely not willing to share you, agape mou,” he promised darkly. And his words spawned a realization in her soul. Would he feel betrayed by the choices she’d made? Would he resent her for using him to take revenge on her no-good husband?
She looked
at him properly and it was then that the candles caught her eye. Dozens of little lights twinkled from the bow of the boat, each encased in a glass jar. An ice bucket and a picnic rug in the middle, with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
“You said we were going for a walk along the beach,” she laughed unsteadily, her heart tripping over itself.
“We did,” he grinned.
“And you said this would just be sex,” she added, but her pulse was firing and the fever in her blood had nothing to do with the proximity of his gorgeous body and everything to do with the thoughtfulness of his gesture.
“I’m sure we can find time for that too,” he promised, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and pulling her towards him. He held her tight to his chest and kissed her on the top of her head, then slackened his grip so that he could guide her towards the rug.
“The view from here is incomparable.”
She sat down on the picnic rug, her slender legs kicked out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. He poured a flute of champagne and handed it to her, then sat down beside her.
The outlook was, indeed, exquisite. The boat was facing away from Thad’s island, towards the mainland. But dozens of little islands dotted the way, like beacons in the night. She sighed as a surprising sense of contentment settled around her shoulders.
“So this whole island is really yours?” She asked after they’d sat in contemplative silence for a little while.
He dipped his head forward in agreement.
“What else is on it?”
“Nothing. Wilderness. It’s quite perfectly untouched.”
She lifted a brow. “Your grandfather never thought of developing it?”
“What for?” He asked quietly. “He was as rich as Croesus and did not need the money. This place is special for us. Him and me. And his father before him. It is a place to come to and be centered.”
“A bolt-hole,” she said with a tense smile. That’s exactly what it had been for her.
“Of sorts,” he agreed.
“It’s strange to hear you speaking like that. I mean, you’re this incredible businessman but you have a place to go and be centered. That’s kind of cool.”
“Cool?” He laughed. His conversation with Rocco came flooding back to him. “How old are you?”
“Twenty six.”
He concealed his smile with effort. “Mid-twenties?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Twenty six. Why?”
“I just realized I did not know.”
She frowned. “I guess we never got around to those facts.”
She sipped her champagne, and found it deliciously cold and refreshing, then cradled the flute in her hands. “How old are you?”
“Thirty one.”
The same age as Jordan. She pulled a face, and it made him laugh.
“Too old?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Perfect.”
“Then why this face?” He mimicked it back to her and she burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry. That was rude of me.”
He sipped his own champagne, his eyes hooked hers over the rim. “Now that we are here, and you are my virtual prisoner, I realize I can ask you all my questions, and you will have to answer them.”
“Wasn’t I your prisoner on the island?”
He grinned. “Good point. Still. I could always threaten to throw you overboard if you do not answer my questions, like a pirate’s quarry.”
“I’d take you with me.”
He mulled over the sentence and then nodded, his eyes locked challengingly to hers. “And I’d go willingly.”
Her heart turned over in her chest. She knew she desperately needed to lighten the mood. “Anyway, these questions of yours must be pretty scary if you had to go to these lengths to get them answered.”
“You have things you wish to keep private,” he murmured softly.
“Oh.” Her skin paled, and she sat up straighter, crossing her legs together. The statement cut through her very heart. “You’re being serious?”
“Why not?” He lifted his shoulders. His expression was so beautifully calm that her heart squeezed and remorse crested through her. Is this what infidelity felt like? Why then did she feel a sense of guilt towards this man, rather than her husband?
“What do you want to know?” She said hesitantly, and Thad shook his head.
“You act as if I’m asking to pull your teeth out one by one. Why?”
She bit down on her lip. Her eyes drifted out to the ocean. “You know why.” She swallowed. “I came to Athens to get away from … stuff. I didn’t plan to meet someone like you. I’m not really in the right place to start swapping life stories.”
Her cold detachment hurt; all the more so because he suspected it was just an act – but an act she desperately didn’t want him to see beyond.
“You did meet me, though, whether you planned to or not. And having enjoyed your body for three glorious nights, I want to know more now. I want to know what’s going on in here.” He tapped the side of her head and she squirmed away on the pretense of sipping her champagne.
“Fine.” She smiled at him tersely. “I studied philosophy at university, which means I love to read and over-analyze everything but unfortunately doesn’t make me tremendously employable in any field,” she said matter-of-factly, but still he laughed at her appraisal. “So I’m doing volunteer work until I figure out what I want to do next. I’m not qualified for anything. Literally nothing. I’m one of the few people in my generation who loathes technology and uses it a bare minimum. I can’t type. I have no head for maths. I bore easily. I don’t even know if I have an interest in anything.” She felt a sob in her throat and she swallowed it determinedly. “And I hate to whine about it to you because there are children dying in this world from lack of food and I’m incredibly spoiled and indulged and still can’t get my act together.” She angled a sardonic expression in his direction. “Are you regretting your interest now?”
“Of course not,” he murmured, tilting to face her. “Is this why you came to Athens? To, as you put it, get your act together?”
“Yes,” she said, and it was the truth. Never mind that she was omitting a vital detail regarding her husband’s cheating.
“What volunteer work do you do?”
“Does it matter? It’s just an excuse to leave the house every day.” She blinked back tears.
“I do not believe that,” he said, moving to sit behind her and pulling her gently back onto his chest. She smelled so good. His whole body tensed in pleasurable anticipation.
“You wouldn’t know what it’s like,” she muttered darkly. “To have no clue what you want from life, and no impetus with which to achieve it.”
He frowned. “What are your parents like?”
“My parents?”
“Yes. Most people seem to attribute their decisions, in part, to the way they were raised. I certainly credit my grandfather with many of my traits.”
“Like what?”
“Uh uh,” he said softly. “Nice try. We are talking about you, agape mou.”
She sighed. “Mum and dad are great. They have always taught me I could be anything. Maybe that’s part of the problem. I spent so much of my childhood learning what I could do and no time thinking about what was necessary to achieve it.” She cringed, shaking her head so that her hair tickled his chin. “I hate that I speak like that. I have had the luckiest childhood. I really am a spoiled brat. I’m pathetic.”
Her proclamation angered him. “Hey,” he wrapped an arm around her waist.
In the future, he would know it was that moment that made him feel a need to protect her. That moment in time, more than any other, made him want to shake her and show her how wrong she was about herself. “Why the hell do you let yourself speak like that? Let alone think it? You’re a kid, in the scheme of things. There is still plenty of time to find what it is you want from life.”
She shook her head. “Growing up, my mum was this
incredibly perfect housewife. The ideal wife. Stunning - she was a real-life Bond girl, you know - and very kind, and intelligent. When I was born, she gave up everything else to be a full time mum and wife.” He felt her slender shoulders shrug. “I guess I always wanted to be like her.” She pulled a wry grimace. “Pity I missed out on her looks and patience.”
“You are depressing and infuriating me,” he said simply. “How can you not see what everyone else does?” He ran his hands down her arms. “Who has been telling you this crap? When you boarded my flight, I was almost winded. I have never known a woman like you.” He captured her fingers in his and lifted them higher in the sky before placing a delicate kiss on her thumb. “And even if you were as plain looking as a board, you are funny and kind and intelligent and … you are wonderful, agape mou.”
And for Saphire, that was her moment. The moment she knew she’d gone too far. That simple revenge sex had turned into something far, far more dangerous.
“I have to tell you something,” she said slowly. Her eyes fluttered shut. “It’s about my … friend.”
“The one you had to call this morning?”
“Sort of.” She swallowed, panic swelling in her throat. Be brave. “Ever since I was a kid, I’ve run around with a girl called Anita. We grew up in the same area, went to school together. I think we actually hated each other at first,” she said with a small shake of her head. “But anyway, we’ve been inseparable for years. We went to university together - though she wisely chose to study economics and now works at the LSE.” She swallowed. “Anyway, I have loved her like a sister. Until just before I came here I discovered … I found out …” the words were dying inside of her. Weakly, she finished. “She’s been having an affair with … with a married guy.”
Thad frowned. “I can see why that would be disappointing. What does she say?”
He didn’t get it. She hadn’t explained properly. “I didn’t give her a chance to explain.”
“I can see why,” he agreed. “Marriage is a sacrosanct relationship. It must be hard for you to imagine remaining friends with her when she’s shown herself to have such different values to you.”