The Good Greek Wife? (2 page)

‘Is the fishing good?'

What had she said now to make him stare at her for a moment so searchingly and intently that she felt almost as if his hidden gaze were a laser directed straight at her, threatening to shrivel her where she stood? Suddenly apprehensive, she found she was tensing, nerving herself for some sort of attack—not knowing what or why. Too late she wished that she had bothered to take the time to go and collect Argus and take him out with her on this evening walk. Not for nothing had the big dog been given a name that meant vigilant guardian, and if he had been with her then this disturbingly cold and unapproachable male would very definitely know to stand back, keep his distance.

Not that he showed any sign of actually wanting to approach her, because having considered her question for an inordinately long amount of time he suddenly shook his head abruptly.

‘No,' he growled, tossing the word at her like a discarded piece of litter. ‘Not good.'

And, turning away from her, he tugged hard on the rope to draw it up onto the jetty before looping it through an iron ring nailed into the wood and pulling it tight to fasten the boat to its mooring. A moment later he was crouching down to check that the knot was secure, the movement making the long, strong muscles in his legs and thighs bunch and flex as they took his weight

Again that disturbing shiver of response that Penny now knew had nothing to do with the cool of the evening in spite of the chill from the wind off the sea crept over her skin.

What was happening to her? Penny's head seemed to swim under the impact of the unexpected sensations, the unwanted thoughts that assailed her.

Was it really possible that the senses she had thought had died with Zarek were now coming awake again? Was she, as everyone had told her she would, finally really starting to take an interest in life again—in other men? But why would this man, this scruffy bearded, rough-voiced fisherman pique her interest so much? Or was it just that tonight she felt so lost, so alone that any man would act as a distraction from the bleakness of her thoughts?

Feeling uncomfortable and restless, she pushed herself to her feet but then found that she couldn't move, couldn't get away. Instead her gaze stayed locked on the strong, lean form of the man before her. Her throat felt dry and tight too, her heart thudding disturbingly so that she found it hard to breathe.

She should never have come out like this. Her tense mood and the uncomfortable meeting she had had with Hermione, the ‘talk' she knew was coming, had all combined to knock her off balance so badly that she was no longer able to think straight. In fact she wasn't thinking at all, sitting here in the gathering dusk, her gaze hooked and held by a complete
stranger. Yes, he had a good body—a great body—but was that enough to scramble her brain this way?

But then the fisherman stood up again and some movement of his head brought the little of it that was not concealed under the hat or the growth of beard into the light of a lamp at the side of the harbour. The sight of the jagged line of an ugly scar had Penny's breath hissing in sharply between her teeth, a faint sound of shock and horror escaping her involuntarily. White against the tanned darkness of his skin, it marred the line of dark beard on the right side of his face, skimming his temple and disappearing into the shadows thrown by his cap.

‘Oh, my…'

The shocked exclamation died on her lips as something in her voice brought him swinging round to face her again. And everything about his stance, the way he held himself, the tension in the long straight spine and the way his hand clenched over the end of the rope that he held warned her that he had heard her response and that for some reason he didn't like it.

‘That—that must have hurt…' she managed, her own body tensing warily under the burn of his dark-eyed glare.

‘It did.'

His tone made it plain that he begrudged her the answer.

‘And n-now?'

‘Ohi.'

A shake of his head emphasised the denial.

‘So how—?'

Hastily Penny caught herself up. What was she doing? Had she actually been about to ask him what had happened, how he had come by the injury? She must be crazy. Here she was alone in the darkness with a dark, powerful and clearly unwelcoming stranger and she was pushing him for answers he clearly did not want to give.

And why, why, was she even remotely interested? What was it about this stranger that had so unsettled her that she had actually wanted to know what had caused the injury that had marked him so badly? Wasn't the fact that it was so evidently the result of some terrible violence enough to clamp her foolish mouth shut?

‘So many questions,' the fisherman mocked now, and the low voice carried over the silence to where she sat on her rock, some dark edge in it making her spine tense, her stomach twisting in sharp apprehension. ‘Why so curious?'

‘I…'

She was halfway to her feet, but the need to keep her eyes on the big, bulky figure silhouetted against the setting sun meant that she didn't dare to move too fast or too obviously for fear that she would show him how keen she was to get away.

‘You…?'he queried, that disturbing note in his voice deepening worryingly. And he took a step forward, towards her. Pushing her to her feet in a rush.

‘Penelope?'

Another voice broke in on them, coming out of the darkness along the shoreline. A male voice; a voice she knew and recognised.

‘Penny?'

‘Jason!'

She would actually have welcomed the arrival of any member of those she privately labelled The Family at this stage of things. But Jason was the only one of Zarek's stepbrothers who was actually kind to her. Closer to Penny in age than any of the rest of the family, and startlingly handsome—conventionally good-looking where Zarek had been dark and devastating—he had been approachable, even warm and sympathetic from the moment she had arrived on Ithaca as a young, naïve bride.

And it had been Jason who had warned her that Zarek's marriage plans had been the cold-blooded hunt for a wife who would give him an heir. A fact that Zarek himself had confirmed when she'd challenged him, asking why he'd proposed to her.

‘Isn't it obvious? I couldn't keep my hands off you,' her husband had said. ‘And I knew we would make beautiful babies together—and that's all that mattered.'

‘You OK,
agapiti mou
?'

The term of affection was new, but it was what she needed. It was enough to have her on her feet and swinging round to him, nervous steps taking her towards him in a rush that had her almost tripping over herself on the slipping sand. Like a bird winging home to its nest, she ran straight for Jason, unthinking, hands reaching out to him.

Jason opened his arms too so that she ran into them, almost collapsing up against his hard length and burying her face in the crisp cotton of his shirt. Long arms came round her, holding her tight.

And that was when second and then third thoughts forced themselves into Penny's whirling brain, taking the instinctive, mindless fear that had pushed her into movement and pushing it aside, replacing it with a sudden feeling of having made a terrible mistake. Fear of the stranger was one thing, but from Jason's reaction he had taken her response to mean much more than she had meant. He was holding her too tight, too close.

Too close for what she really wanted.

‘Penny…'

And that tone had altered, putting something new into the use of her name, a thickness she had never heard and certainly wasn't meaning to encourage. The fisherman might have spooked her, twisting her nerves into fearful
response, but a sudden slow crawl of unease down her spine gave her the unwanted sense of out of the frying pan and into the fire.

‘Jason…' she tried experimentally, aiming to lift her head from where it was pressed against his chest, ease herself away from the limpet grip he had on her.

As she had feared his arms tightened round her, holding her still. Already unsettled by her encounter with the fisherman, and painfully aware of the fact that he must still be watching her, she felt as if her head was about to explode with stress. She didn't want this and if Jason thought he had found the perfect time to make a move…

Suddenly she knew she had had enough. Enough of this situation, this family. She didn't belong here and she never had. She had always been second best, unwanted and unpopular with Zarek's stepmother and stepbrothers. And second best to Zarek too.

So why was she so determined to stay here where she wasn't wanted? To cling onto memories that had never really been true, no matter how much she might wish they had. Perhaps if she escaped, she could leave, go home. She could be by herself and try to find another way of living. She could always take Zarek with her in her heart.

And that gave her the perfect way to distract Jason, to turn his thoughts onto other, more important things—more important to Jason, anyway. Even if Hermione's aggression was not Jason's way, he was every bit as hungry for control of Odysseus Shipping as his mother.

‘I want to call a board meeting for tomorrow,' she said, raising her voice so that she could be heard over the crash of the waves.

It worked. She felt the change as soon as she spoke, the new and different tension in Jason's body, the gleam in his eye that
he couldn't disguise as he looked down at her. He even loosened his hold on her so that she could step back away from him.

‘Why?' he asked, not sounding at all as if he believed there was any reason other than the one she knew he was hoping for.

‘I'm sick and tired of this whole business, Jason.'

The tension that had gripped her earlier pushed the words out in a rush, giving them far more emphasis than she had planned.

‘I want to get away from here, start living again. I'm tired of treading water. It's more than time this whole business was sorted out and everything finalised so that we can get on with our lives. I can't inherit unless we have Zarek's death declared and legalised. So let's do that. Let's put it all behind us—'

‘I'll get onto it right away,' Jason broke in on her, his tone revealing only too clearly how much her words had pleased him. He even gave her another hug but thankfully it had lost the sexual overtones of the earlier one. His ambition and greed were a more powerful force—or perhaps, more likely, the sexual flirtation had only been used with the hope of bringing things to this point. Another reason to be glad that she had made her decision.

‘Exactly how do you want to play this?'

But Penny had had enough. Painfully aware of their silent watcher, the unsettling atmosphere he had created, she just wanted to get back inside, seek the privacy of her room.

‘Not now, Jason. Not here. He—'

‘Who?' Jason questioned sharply. ‘Who's “he”?'

‘That man…'

Flinging out her arm, Penny gestured wildly in the direction of the harbour and the spot where the fishing boat was tied up.

‘What man?'

‘He…'

But Penny's voice died away as she turned in the direction
she'd indicated and saw only the boat bobbing at its mooring, the water lapping against the harbour side and the lamp illuminating an empty and silent space where the mysterious man had once been. He had gone silently and secretly, and she had no idea just what he had heard or seen or why it should bother her that he had overheard any of their conversation. But all the same, something uncomfortable and uneasy nagged at her mind at the thought that he had been there at all, and the rapid, uneven beat of her heart was the lingering effect of her unnerving and unsettling encounter with him.

H
E WOULD
need to be more careful in the future, the fisherman told himself as he headed away from the harbour and towards the small, single-storey, white-painted house that he had made his home since he had arrived on the island a few days before.

He had almost given himself away there, speaking English—speaking at all when it was so possible that Penny might recognise his voice and know that he was alive. Alive and back on Ithaca for the first time in over two years.

And he didn't want her to know that. Not yet. Not until he had had a chance to check the lie of the land, see just how things were. It might only have been two years—just twenty-four short months—since he had been on Ithaca, and a much shorter space of time since he had realised that the place even existed, but to him it felt so much longer than that. It seemed as if it were a whole lifetime since he had set foot on the island. Then he had thought that he would be back within the week. He had never anticipated that it would be years before he saw his home and his wife again.

But now he was back. And not before time it seemed, he told himself as the door to the cottage slammed shut behind him and he marched into the single, cramped living room. It
appeared that the reports he had been hearing were true. His stepmother and her family were moving in on the business. Hermione had always had her eyes set on Odysseus Shipping and now it seemed that his absence had given her the encouragement she needed to make a play for control. And he knew just how that control would be won. Through one of Hermione's sons.

And Penny had run straight into
Jason's
arms. She had been planning having him declared dead with his detested stepbrother. And the wild fire of fury that had flared inside him at the sight had been a struggle to bring under control. It was fierce, it was unthinking, it was irrational, but the sight of the woman—the
wife
—he had come back to find enfolded in the arms of the man he knew had been scheming his downfall for all of his adult life had had him fighting with himself not to react in anger. Unable to stay and watch, he had turned on his heel and marched away before the urge to declare himself there and then had got the better of him.

Shaking his head, he fixed his eyes on the now moonlit sea as it lapped against the edge of the beach below the cottage, the slow, dark swirl of the waves suiting his mood completely.

Jason had already taken the first steps towards acquiring what he and his mother had always wanted. His elder stepbrother had barely waited for Zarek's disappearance to be confirmed before he had been trying to apply for power of attorney to run Odysseus Shipping. He hadn't hesitated to make his move as soon as the opportunity had presented itself. But of course the legal control rested with Zarek's wife.

With Penny, who had had a far greater return on her investment of time in their marriage than she could ever have hoped to achieve.

Or thought she had.

He rubbed at the ugly scar that marked his temple, grimacing as the wound throbbed with the ache of memory.

That was one of the reasons he had come back to Ithaca in total anonymity, his true appearance obscured behind the wild growth of beard and hair. And it seemed that it had worked. Tonight he had come face to face with his wife for the first time in years and she had shown no sign of recognising him.

But just hearing her voice again had brought it all back.

‘Go, then!'

The memory was so clear that he actually glanced up and in the mirror over the fireplace almost as if he expected to see that the door had opened while he had been absorbed in his thoughts and Penny had walked into the room.

‘If you're going, then go! I don't know why you're even telling me this. It's not as if you're asking my permission!'

Shaking his head to try and drive the sound of his wife's voice, still shrill even after all these years, from his mind, he paced across the room to the window to stare out at the now moonlit sea where it lapped against the pebbles of Dexa beach. The wind was getting up, making the olive trees sway wildly in the breeze.

He was damn sure he hadn't been asking for permission or anything like it. The truth was that after the way their marriage had all but disintegrated in the short time they'd been together he'd firmly believed she would be as grateful for a break as he was. She'd even backed away from him sexually, and sex had been one of the things that had been right between them at the start. The glue that had kept them together.

‘Just go—' she had flung at him, her sexy mouth distorting in the force of her rejection of him. ‘But be warned, if you go, then don't expect me to be here waiting for you when you return.'

So had she waited? He'd thought she had when he had dis
covered that she was still here on Ithaca. He'd even allowed himself to wonder just for a moment whether she might hold out some hope that he would come back. From what she'd just said it seemed that it was the legalities resulting from his disappearance that had kept her here, not any lingering loyalty to her marriage.

But then she'd made it only too plain exactly why she'd married him in the first place. He'd been fool enough to believe her declaration that she wanted children—longed for them, she'd said—when in fact she'd been lying through her teeth. She'd even been taking the pill and when he'd confronted her with the evidence she'd thrown it back in his face.

‘Bring children into this marriage—you have to be joking. Where did I sign up for that? Where was that written into the pre-nup you got me to sign?'

He'd never thought he'd need to do that. He'd signed and sealed the financial details, but never made them dependent on the one reason he'd determined on marriage in the first place.

And Penny had proved herself nothing but a scheming little gold-digger. She'd married him for those financial details and never intended to carry out her part of the agreement. Never intended to give him the heir he so longed for. Even if he had come back safe and sound from the
Troy
, she would still have come out of their brief marriage a millionaire in her own right. He had been happy to agree to very generous terms, never thinking he would have to fulfil them before he had even celebrated his first wedding anniversary. For ten short months of commitment, Penny would walk away with a huge profit.

But not as much as she would profit from his supposed death. From the will that he'd changed in her favour when they had married. One thing was clear. She wanted to realise her assets, get her hands on the company.

It must have felt like the answer to her prayers—as if all her birthdays had come at once—when he had done exactly what she'd wanted. He hadn't come back, leaving the field wide open to her. She hadn't even had to go to the trouble of divorcing him and so risking losing half the money she had married him for.

Pushing his hands through the long mane of hair, he faced his reflection in the mirror and saw the darkness in the eyes that stared back at him, the tautness of the jaw line under the thick growth of beard. Remembered anger tightened his lips until they almost disappeared. There was a way to deal with this that would have much more impact, and it seemed that Penny herself had just given him the perfect opportunity he had been looking for.

He'd been away too long—an absence he had not been able to do anything about—but the last week or two he had spent waiting and watching, just to see what he would be walking into when he made his return. That was all over now. The time for waiting and watching was past.

Heading into the tiny, primitive bathroom, he opened a cupboard and reached for scissors, a razor. It was time he came out from behind his concealing disguise and made his presence known.

Zarek Michaelis was back. And very soon the whole world would know it.

And so too would his errant, untrustworthy wife.

He was looking forward to seeing the look on her face when she realised that she was not going to get her greedy fingers on the fortune that she had hoped—believed—was hers. Or that the new life she had declared that she wanted would not be on the cards any time soon.

When she discovered that the husband she had believed
was dead and out of her life for good was in fact very much alive and ready to take back the reins of his previous existence.

 

‘Penelope, it really is time to make a decision.'

Hermione leaned forward as she spoke, dark eyes boring into the face of the woman opposite her, long fingernails tapping on the polished wood of the boardroom table to emphasise the point she was making.

‘We can't let things go on any longer as they are.'

‘We?' Penny questioned, determined not to let Zarek's stepmother run this meeting, have things all her own way.

There was no escaping the decision that she had known she had to face some time. The decision everyone had been demanding she make for a year or more now. And deep down she knew she'd already made it. But it didn't mean that she was happy about it.

‘We are all shareholders,' her mother-in-law pointed out, the bite of acid on the words making Penny flinch inwardly.

‘Minority shareholders,' she flashed back, determined not to show how her stomach was tying itself in knots; the fight she was having to keep at least some degree of composure in the face of the bitterness of the inevitable.

‘But nevertheless Odysseus Shipping is a family concern.'

It was Petros, Hermione's second son and Jason's younger brother who spoke, shifting his bulky form on his chair in a movement that echoed the impatience in his voice.

‘And you are blocking us from playing a part in running the company,' he tossed over the table at her. ‘We all need to put our expertise to work to keep it running—and growing. Without Zarek it has become a rudderless ship.'

His stiff tone and totally focused expression gave no sign at all of even noticing the pun.

‘It needs someone in charge.'

‘
I
am in charge,' Penny declared, stiffening in her seat.

This was how it had been from the moment that Zarek had first been declared missing. The rest of the family had barely given her time to register the loss of her husband, let alone grieve for him, before they had been putting pressure on her to find a new head of the family firm, and at least once every month they had dragged the subject of his successor up again. She'd tried to hold it together, she really had. But she'd had enough.

‘It's a shipping empire,' Petros dismissed her protest with a contemptuous wave of his hand. ‘A man should be in charge because we all know Zarek isn't coming home. And until things are made official then the company will always be in a shaky state. A prey for rumour and scandal in the papers. An insecure bet for investors.'

‘You know what has to be done.' Jason leaned forward now to distract her attention. Obviously he had seen the way her jaw had tightened, her breath hissing in between clenched teeth, and he was clearly worried that she was going to go back on what she'd told him last night. ‘Penny, it's over two years since Zarek went missing. There has been no sign of him, no word in all that time. It's time we accepted what we all know as the truth and had him officially declared dead.'

There. It was out. The words seemed to land on the table with a deafening thud, lying there in front of her in an almost solid form. Too real to reject or deny. But now when it came to it she didn't know if she could go through with this.

‘It takes seven years to have someone who's missing officially declared dead.'

‘Not in a case like this,' Jason reminded her. ‘Not when there is so much evidence as to what really happened and that you can file a petition to have him legally declared dead. You
know that everything points to the assumption that Zarek died that day on the boat. Even the pirate chief himself said…'

‘I know what he said!' Penny's tone was sharp as much from the knowledge that she really didn't have a leg to stand on as from the fear of hearing those words spoken aloud again.

‘That's him,' the leader of the pirates who had boarded the
Troy
, the boat that Zarek had been on on the very last day he had been seen, had said when they had shown him a photograph of Zarek during the investigation into what had happened. ‘That's the one. And, yes, he's dead. I put a bullet in his head myself.'

He had been so openly defiant, so proud at the thought that he had killed one of the hated Westerners, the rich who had so much more than he and his band had ever had, that he hadn't even cared that he had convicted himself of murder with his own words.

‘And then I watched him fall overboard into the ocean…He's shark food by now for sure.'

Penny shivered in spite of the sun beating through the window at her back. She had had nightmares about those words for months, could still wake up in a cold sweat with them pounding at her head, making her heart race in panic. In her nightmares she had seen Zarek's face as he had walked away from her, his expression cold and hard, eyes dark and shuttered. The knowledge that she had lashed out in her own pain, using the words that were guaranteed to drive him from her, still haunted her with the thought that they had been the last words he had heard from her. And now, when she saw him again, in her dreams, she knew that the glaze on his eyes was put there not by anger but something far more devastating.

‘Then you know that the lawyers told us that someone who had been exposed to “imminent peril” like that and
failed to return can be declared dead well before the legal time limit is up.'

‘I know…'

She knew but she didn't want to face it. Making that decision would mean admitting that Hermione and her sons had finally dragged her down.

Suddenly in the distance there was a faint scream and a crash that brought her head swinging round, eyes going to the door from behind which the sound had come.