The Kyriakos Virgin Bride (14 page)

Beside her, Zac halted, his biceps tense as steel under her fingertips.

“Zac, I need to talk to you,” Pandora pleaded, desperation drumming inside her head.

“Wait.”

Panic clamoured inside Pandora, cold and frightening. She tugged his arm again. “Zac, please…come.”

“Oh?” Katy invited, sounding intrigued. “Did you know any of the girls? Anyone I know?”

“I'd become friendly with one of their brothers—we'd struck up an acquaintance on the beach playing volleyball.”

Zac swung around. He shot Stavros a lethal narrow-eyed look and then the full weight of his attention descended on Pandora.

The green eyes were not warmly intent but slits of ice. She squirmed under his glacial gaze, then looked away, unable to handle the accusation there. She knew that she was flushed now, no longer pale. But the shocky feeling was growing worse. Anxiety and guilt must be written all over her.

“Pandora, look at me.”

She shook her head.

“Look at me!” His voice was a whip crack.

She flinched. Her head shot up. There was distaste and rage and pain in his eyes. She swallowed and forced herself to maintain eye contact.
Zac knew.

“You told me he was dead,” he murmured through bloodless lips.

P
andora ran.

Locking herself into the guest bathroom, she bent over the basin, her temples throbbing. Not even the icy water she splashed on her face helped clear her head. At last the pulsing started to ease, and she straightened and stared at her wan reflection in the mirror.

She couldn't stay here all day. So after wiping her hands on a fleecy white towel, she moved to the door, pressed her ear against the dark-stained wood and listened.

Everything was silent. No shouting. But then, Zac was too civilised to ever do anything as uncouth as shout. Her heart hammering, Pandora opened the door a crack.

The sight of the man leaning against the wall made her start.

“Wait.”

She relaxed a little when the figure morphed into Steve, not Zac. Warily she made her way out into the passage.

“You made a beautiful bride. The duckling has grown into a swan.”

She was horribly conscious of her damp shorts, the clinging T-shirt and her hair hanging in rats' tails. “I didn't know Zac was your brother-in-law, Steve.”
If I'd known, I'd never have married him.
But that didn't help an iota. Not now.

“It's Stavros, actually. Steve is the anglicised form of my name.”

She ignored the explanation. “You weren't at the wedding. Did you know it was me?”

“How could I miss the photos plastered over every paper, in every magazine? Imagine my surprise at reading about my brother-in-law's luck at finding you—the rich, beautiful virgin who fulfilled the criteria of the Kyriakos legend.”

Don't search for those photos in the newspapers tomorrow. The lies and half-truths that accompany them will upset you. Concentrate on us, on our future together.
Zac's words came back to haunt her. And she'd thought them so romantic at the time, thought he was taking care of her…that he loved her. No wonder Zac hadn't wanted her reading the tabloids, hadn't wanted her to find out why he was marrying her. Another bit of her dream splintered.

“So you knew it was me.” She eyed Stavros thoughtfully. He'd had the advantage of knowing they would meet eventually.

If only she'd had an inkling.

Fighting for composure, Pandora tried to get a handle on the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach and cast around for a way to handle this gracefully. Right now she needed to get her mind together before the inevitable confrontation with Zac. “Look, I was very young then. It was over a long time ago.”

“You wound me.” His hand rested on his heart. “I tried to get in touch with you but your father—”

“Wouldn't let you contact me. I know. He told me. He thought you were an opportunist.” She gave Steve a hard-eyed stare. Steve's mouth looked fleshy, self-indulgent, nothing like Zac's beautifully molded mouth. Had her father been correct? Had Steve been after her trust fund and her father's fortune?

Had Steve married Katy for her money?

“You mean nothing to me now, Stavros. You've got a wife, I've got a husband…” Her voice trailed away at the scornful look in Stavros's eyes.

“What?” she whispered. “Why are you looking at me like that?” The blood started to hammer in her head and she rubbed her temples.

“You won't have a husband for much longer. Zac's not going to want you now. You're soiled goods—and he's the Kyriakos heir. Your marriage is over, Pandora.”

“What is going on here?”
Zac came around the corner like a predatory cat hungry for prey, his eyes flashing accusingly as he took in how close Stavros stood to her. Pandora inched hastily away. “Is this a tender reunion of love rediscovered?”

The ache in her head intensified at the contempt in his voice.
Soiled goods.
She felt sick. “Excuse me.”

“You're not going anywhere, wife of mine.”

But Pandora had had enough. She plunged past Zac's outstretched arm and fled back into the bathroom and turned the key.

Pandora barely made it to the toilet before she started to retch, shock and horror causing her churning stomach to convulse.

When she opened the door again, Zac was waiting, his arms folded across his chest, his gaze hooded. Her heart sank like a stone. Of Stavros there was no sign.

Putting her head down, she brushed past him. Zac's hand caught her arm. “Pandora—”

“Not now, Zac.” She wrenched away and broke into a run. By the time Pandora reached her bedroom, her heart was racing. But no footfalls followed.

 

Locking the door, Pandora ran a bath and added bath gel. But not even the frothy bubbles could lift her mood as, filled with self-recriminations, she sank back into the scented water.

What had made her lie to Zac?

Yes, that awful experience three years ago had been utterly humiliating. She'd wanted it erased from her life. Forever. And, yes, she'd sensed how important it was to Zac that Steve—Stavros, she had to get used to calling him that—was out of the picture.

Dead was as out of the picture as it got. It had seemed such a petty little white lie telling Zac that Stavros was dead.

As far as she was concerned, the damned man
was
dead. She'd never expected to see him again. So she'd lied on the spur of the moment. To make it all go away.

Not terribly clever. And now Zac would never forgive her. She'd lied to him, broken his trust. She had to come to terms with that. This time she'd gone beyond the pale.

The biggest irony was that more than anything in the world she wanted to stay married to Zac.

Oh, she'd been outraged that he'd brought her to Kiranos without her consent, angry that she'd been forced into a situation where she could not escape…where she'd been forced to listen to him. But none of that had stopped what she felt for him.

She loved him.

Pandora covered her face.
She loved him.
The past week and a half had been wonderful, the honeymoon of a lifetime.

Yet for Zac their marriage was one of convenience. Except, inconveniently, she wasn't the virgin he required. But against all odds he'd been adamant that he wanted her to stay, to give their marriage a chance, giving her a rock of hope to cling to that he might grow to love her. After all, he'd said he loved her sense of humour, loved her appearance, her intellect. That had to count for something.

Even though she'd failed him at every turn.
And how she'd failed him.
Pandora ran shaking fingers through her hair. He'd wanted a virgin. She'd slept with his brother-in-law. He'd wanted a wife he could trust. She'd lied to him.

Her loss of virginity was something she couldn't change, her maidenhood was gone forever. She didn't hanker after that. Her virginity—or lack thereof—didn't make her a worse or better person.
But she'd lied to Zac.
She'd told him that Stavros was dead. And that was something she could never forgive herself for.

She doubted he would, either.

 

It was hours before Pandora could bring herself to face Zac and the others again. Finally she went down to dinner, only to find that the meal was still half an hour from ready and that Katy and Stavros were already gone.

“I sent them away.” Zac stood with his back to the wall of windows, a dark shadow against the waning light.

Pandora sank down onto the ivory leather and resisted the urge to burst into tears. “Your sister wanted to see you. Don't let this come between the two of you—I know how close you are.”

“How can it not?” Zac didn't meet her eyes. His skin pulled taut across his slanted cheekbones. “Every time she comes to visit I will be forced to stare into the face of the man who took my wife's virginity.”

“I'm sorry.” It was a cry of despair.

He didn't respond.

“Do you want a divorce?”

Zac stared at his wife, shocked at the bald question. She was pale, her pink mouth the only hint of colour in a too-white face. The lower lip shook slightly, giving him some idea of how tough this was for her, but her remarkable silver eyes were steady as they held his.

She wasn't hiding from her lie. And she'd already realised the implications of it. He wanted to deny it, drum his fists against the wall, tell her that it didn't matter, because she was his wife, goddammit. That she'd always be his wife.

But it did matter. He was the eldest—the only—Kyriakos son. And he'd always known what his destiny had to be. Torn, he held her gaze, unable to utter the word that he knew had to be said.
Yes.

But she must have read something in his eyes, because her teeth bit into her lip until he could see a white mark forming. He wanted to demand that she stop.

He moved. Instantly she drew her legs up until her feet perched on the edge of the seat and her knees formed a shield in front of her. “So Stavros was right. He told me that you'd want a divorce.”

He wished he could get his brother-in-law's scrawny neck between his hands. Shake him. For the pain he'd caused Pandora.

He squared his shoulders. “I don't want a divorce.”

“You don't have a choice. That's what Stavros said.”

He hated that she'd been listening to Stavros. Hated that Stavros was right. Except he didn't want a divorce. He raked his fingers through his hair.

But how could he stay married to Pandora now, given the scandalous circumstances? If anyone ever found out…

Yet he'd wanted to stay married despite learning she wasn't the virgin he'd needed to marry, a little voice at the back of his head taunted. He'd been prepared to hide the truth of her lack of virginity then so that he could keep her. But that was before he'd discovered her relationship with Stavros. He sighed. “I need to think about this. I'm not going to make a hasty decision.”

Her eyes widened. “You're not going to divorce me straightaway?”

“I'm not going to be rushed into a decision. I need time to absorb the fact that you had—” he paused “—intimate relations with my brother-in-law, to absorb that you lied about his death.” He needed time to decide whether he could stay with a woman his brother-in-law had deflowered. Time to consider whether he could ever let her go. Time to calm down before he made the most important decision of his life. He dragged a ragged breath. “What else did Stavros say?”

“That—” She broke off.

The pain in her eyes damn near killed him.
“What?”

“That I'm soiled goods.”

“Damn him. I'm going to kill him.”

“Zac! He's your sister's husband.”

She was right. Yet the thought of Pandora with Stavros was driving him mad. He'd never felt like this about a woman. Possessive. Protective. “I can't believe you let Stavros—” He shook his head. “What is it about Stavros Politsis? My sister's so besotted with the bastard that I have no chance of convincing her to kick him out.”

“You've tried?” she asked.

He nodded. “When they got engaged I tried to pay him off. He wouldn't take it. No doubt he rubbed his hands in anticipation of more to come down the road. He's not worthy of associating with our family.” He pinned Pandora with his fiercest glare. “I want you to stay away from him from now on. I don't want you near him.”

Pandora's shoulders stiffened and her eyes blazed. “Why would I want to go near him? He means nothing to me.”

“Make sure it stays that way.” Zac threw back his head and closed his eyes. “Tomorrow we return to London. Stavros's arrival has soured our stay here. I no longer have any taste to honeymoon.”

 

The following afternoon Zac found himself glaring at Pandora where she'd curled up in the seat of the helicopter. The first he'd seen of her today had been after he'd sent Maria to summon her to the helipad.

Was she sulking? He couldn't forget the way her silver eyes had blazed at him yesterday after he'd commanded her to stay away from his sister's husband.

Zac slid into the seat beside her. “What the hell's the matter with you?” he said finally. “Why are you huddled up in a ball?”

“I don't like flying in these death traps.”

“We'll be in Athens soon enough.”

She raised her head and gave him a guarded look. “And what happens then?”

For a moment Zac said nothing. “I told you I need time. Don't force me to make a decision in haste about something as important as our marriage.”

Her eyes widened in her ashen face. She looked even worse than she'd looked when she'd stepped onto the roof. Zac took in the trepidation in her eyes and for the first time started to wonder if she was afraid of heights—or flying. He pushed the notion away. No, it was unlikely. She'd flown all the way from New Zealand without a qualm. She was simply still angry with him.