A Shameful Consequence(18)

He wandered for an hour or more, along the cobbled streets and up the stone steps to a couple of deserted properties. He found one that was a little larger, shaded by a vast fig tree, whose fruit lay rotting on the ground. The air thick with the scent of it but there was beauty in neglect, too; the paths were overgrown, the stone pool mossed and empty, but vivid cyclamen still burst from shaded pots and it wasn’t Puerto Banus that was tempting him now.

‘They’re not interested in selling.’ Charlotte soon got back to him. ‘Especially not on a Sunday.’

‘Get me a price,’ Nico said, because there always was one, and Nico was more specific with his instruction now, describing the house in detail, this the one that he wanted. He lingered a little longer, searching for answers to a question he didn’t know, then back to the old town they went. Nico was looking for something he did not understand, but his head was pounding by the time he was back at the hotel.

He went to the bar.

Told himself it did not matter that there was no sign of her.

He checked his phone for perhaps the fiftieth time, answering it promptly when it rang. He was curiously deflated when it was Charlotte on the other end. Even Nico’s eyes widened when his PA rang and gave him the price.

‘He’s not interested in negotiating,’ Charlotte relayed.

‘Who?’ Nico asked.

‘I just got a lawyer, and he wasn’t particularly chatty. That’s the price,’ Charlotte said. ‘Are you sure you’re not in Monte Carlo?’

He let out a grudging laugh.

He worked well with Charlotte, perhaps because they rarely saw each other—she lived in London and was permanently available on the phone and online. Occasionally, when needed, she travelled with him, but their relationship had survived because, unlike too many previous PAs, Nico had not bedded her. Put simply there was no attraction, just mutual liking, and as a team they worked well.

‘I’ll ring and speak with him …’

‘Well, good luck, but he’s been instructed that you can take it or leave it. If you try to bring the price down, he will refuse to take any more calls.’

His business brain instantly rejected it, but for a moment he lingered. There was need to be here and he had no reason why.

His mind flicked to Constantine.

To dangerous thoughts of long-time lovers, but he hauled himself out of that tempting space.

But what if she needed somewhere to run to if she chose to reveal all?

Nico scolded himself for the very idea.

It was a bloody expensive women’s refuge!

It would be a most fiscally unwise decision, logic warned him—he should follow his own rule, buy when the pendulum swung in the other direction, when the developer went bust or the rich and famous migrated to the next exclusive locale.

‘I’ll text you the number.’ Charlotte said, but Nico halted her before she rang off.

‘Tell him I’ll take it and get the paperwork started.’ He heard his voice disobey his brain’s orders and then snapped off his phone.

Instinct won.

And then he looked up and saw her walk into the bar with her husband and their families. And she would be his lover, Nico decided. For her, he would break his rules—would be her regular refuge. He saw the strain on her features, saw her eyes almost pleading as they met his.

How she pleaded.

Connie felt like a hostage, her family her captor, and there, most unexpectedly, was Nico and she wanted his arms, wanted not to be made love to tonight but to be held, to be shielded, to be carried down the ladder from the wreckage her family had built for her.

She watched him stand.

Watched as he lifted his hotel key and rather pointedly pocketed it, and knew now that tonight she could go there—that Nico would be there for her, that maybe what she had wished for last night was being offered: liaisons in Athens; passion and phone calls; an occasional escape to a secret life.

How much easier it would be to play along with the charade, to laugh along with her parents and later say farewell to them, to turn into her hotel suite and then, a discreet while later, knock on Nico’s door.

So badly she wanted to take the easy option—especially when it meant the sweet reward of Nico’s arms tonight—but Nico had awoken something else within her, had made her a woman in more ways than he knew, for though scared she felt stronger.

It was for that reason she left Nico waiting alone through what would prove the longest night, in a bed that had been scented by them.