picked up his briefcase, slid his mobile phone into his jacket pocket and stood before her, glancing down at her with something close to compassion.
‘You need to let go, Rhiannon,’ he said quietly, adding so she barely heard, ‘And so do I.’ He handed her a mobile that matched his. ‘Keep this with you. I’ve programmed my own mobile number on speed dial. You can ring me if you run into any trouble.’
And then, with a faint whiff of his pine-scented cologne, he was gone. Rhiannon slipped the phone into her pocket, then sagged against the study chair, her hands slick on the smooth leather.
She knew she should be relieved that Lukas was gone. At least now they wouldn’t be clashing. There could be no confrontations. She had a week’s reprieve—a week to decide how she could stay in Annabel’s life…if she could.
Rhiannon realised the impossibility, the sacrifice. Was it worth it? Was she willing?
She had no answers.
From upstairs Rhiannon heard Annabel’s faint cries as she woke from her morning nap. She hurried up, smiled involuntarily at the sight of Annabel’s dark fleecy curls and wide brown eyes peering over the edge of the cot.
‘Hello, sweetheart. Shall we go to the beach this morning? Try out all your new sand toys?’
As she picked the baby up, cuddled her close, she heard the sound of a helicopter’s engine throbbing to life.
Rhiannon moved to the window, Annabel on her hip, and watched the helicopter disappear into the horizon like an angry black insect.
The house suddenly seemed ridiculously silent and still.
‘Come on,’ Rhiannon said as cheerfully as she could, ‘let’s find your swimming costume.’
The morning passed pleasantly enough, and, after lunch in the kitchen with Adeia, Rhiannon put Annabel down for a nap and read one of the paperbacks Lukas had included in his box of provisions.
When Annabel woke again, she changed her and took her down to the kitchen. Adeia was busy at the stove, but had a ready smile for the baby.
‘May we eat with you again?’ Rhiannon asked, only to have her spirits sink when Adeia gave a vigorous shake of her head.
‘Oh, no, miss,’ she said in halting English. ‘The master…Mr Petrakides…expects you to dine with him tonight.’
For one brief, hope-filled second Rhiannon thought the housekeeper meant Lukas. Perhaps he’d returned while she was upstairs, was waiting for her…?
The realisation of her own happiness at such a thought made her flush in shame. Of course Adeia meant Theo. And the prospect of dining alone with the sour old man made Rhiannon’s spirits sink further.
She could hardly argue with the housekeeper, however, and to refuse Theo would be outright rude. With a sigh, Rhiannon set to feeding Annabel.
After giving the baby a bath and settling her for the night, she considered her own choice of clothing.
She finally settled on a pair of plain black trousers she’d brought with her, paired with the scalloped lace blouse she’d worn before.
Theo was waiting for her in the dining room. His face cracked into a rare and reluctant smile as she entered.
‘I didn’t think you would come.’
‘That would have been rude,’ Rhiannon replied with a small smile, and he acknowledged this with an inclination of his head.
‘Yes…but what is a little rudeness? After all, I have been rude to you.’ He spoke slowly, but there was precision to his words. Rhiannon blinked in surprise.
‘I’m surprised you admit as much,’ she said after a moment.
Theo shrugged, and indicated for Rhiannon to take her seat. She did so, placing the heavy linen napkin across her lap. Theo poured them both wine and sat.
‘I have come to realise,’ he began carefully, ‘that you will be around for some time to come.’
‘Oh? Has Lukas told you as much?’ Rhiannon could feel her heart starting to beat faster, the adrenalin racing like molten silver through her veins. It was fuelled by hope. She forced herself to remain calm, took a sip of wine and let the velvety liquid slide down her throat.
‘He has said little,’ Theo admitted with a faint frown. ‘But that hardly matters. I am right, am I not? You intend to stay?’
‘Yes, I do.’ Rhiannon met his gaze directly. Adeia entered with the first course—a traditional Greek salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, feta cheese and black olives.
‘You want to be this child’s mother?’ Theo asked musingly, and Rhiannon felt the word reverberate through her soul. Her heart.
Mother. A real mother. Mummy.
‘Legal guardian’ sounded terribly cold in comparison.
‘Yes,’ she said, and her determination—her desire—were evident in the stridency of her tone.
Theo nodded, and Rhiannon was surprised to see a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. What game was he playing? She’d sensed from the moment he’d rested contemptuous eyes on her that he’d wanted her gone. She was a nuisance, a nonentity.
Yet now he seemed pleased that she intended to stick around.
Why? She should be suspicious, even afraid, but the hope was too strong.
‘I don’t know quite how it will work out,’ she began carefully, after the first course was cleared. ‘Lukas doesn’t seem to think there can be a place for me. But…I’m hoping to convince him when he returns from Athens.’
‘He doesn’t?’ Theo repeated, and he almost sounded amused.
‘Yes. I intend to live my own life, Mr Petrakides, as best as I can. Back in Cardiff I was a nurse, and I imagine that my credentials could in some way be transferred to Greece.’ The idea had come to her that afternoon, and though she knew it was half-thought and hazy, it still gave her hope.
He raised one sceptical eyebrow. ‘And the language barrier?’
‘I will have to learn Greek, naturally,’ Rhiannon replied with some dignity. ‘I intend to anyway, for Annabel’s sake. She is, after all, half-Greek.’
‘Indeed.’ Theo swirled the wine in his glass thoughtfully. ‘And how do you suppose my son will react to such plans? You living your own life—with Annabel in your care, I presume?’
‘Not necessarily,’ Rhiannon said quickly. ‘Annabel could remain with you—with Lukas—as long as I have visitation rights.’
It was a compromise, and one she thought Lukas might accept. She could not become someone’s responsibility…Lukas’s burden…even if he wanted her to. She couldn’t bear to see duty turn to dread, responsibility to resentment. And she couldn’t let that happen to Annabel, either.
Theo merely laughed dryly.
‘We shall see what happens,’ he said, his eyes glinting with humour.
Rhiannon found herself feeling both uneasy and strangely comforted by his cryptic remark.
Theo excused himself to go to bed soon after dinner.
Rhiannon noticed his pale, strained face, the way he walked slowly and stiffly out of the room. She had not broached the subject of his illness, wanting to respect his privacy, yet now it tugged at her conscience, her compassion.
With a little sigh, and realising she was lonely, she went slowly upstairs.
The mobile phone Lukas had given her was trilling insistently when she entered the room. Rhiannon hurried to it before Annabel stirred, and pushed the talk button.
‘Hello?’
‘I’ve