with anger and astonishment, seeing the sudden shine of tears, he felt harsh, cruel—only before he could say anything she took a step towards him.
‘Yes, I gave up! Because I was on my own and I was sick and I was scared.’ She breathed out unsteadily. ‘But even if I hadn’t given up, and you had got my messages, you wouldn’t have called me anyway. No doubt something very important at work would have come up and you’d have had to deal with that instead.’
He stared at her in silence, his face set and tense, his dark eyes narrowing like arrowheads. ‘Not this again.’ He shook his head. ‘Unlike you, Teddie, I’m not a magician. I can’t just pull a hotel out of a hat and take a bow. I work on global projects that employ tens of thousands of people. I have responsibilities, commitments.’
His face looked cold and businesslike. It was the face he’d used on her when he’d been late home from work, or cancelled dinner, or spent all weekend on the phone. Behind him, through the window, the flat, shifting blues of the Mediterranean seemed an oddly serene backdrop to their heated argument.
‘Responsibilities…commitments…’ Her voice echoed his words incredulously. ‘Yes, you do, Aristo. Four years ago you had a wife—me—and now you have a son—George.’
‘I was working to build up the business for you, so you didn’t have to worry about money!’
Surely she could understand his motives for working so hard? Had they stayed together she would have been the first to complain, for women were never satisfied with just enough—they always wanted more.
‘Well, I didn’t marry you for your money.’
He heard the catch in her voice and his chest tightened as he watched her lip tremble.
‘And you’re already fantastically wealthy. So why are you still working as though your life depends on it?’
There was a short, strained silence, and then, as his phone started to ring again, she took a deep breath.
‘You should probably answer that,’ she said quietly. ‘We clearly have nothing left to say.’
And, turning, she walked swiftly out of the room.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, having got directions from Melina, she and George reached the right cove. The pirate boat was at the back of the beach on the dunes, its wooden hull bleached like the bones of some marine animal. It was more of a rowing boat than an actual pirate ship with masts, but it was still recognisably a boat and, on seeing it, George began towing her down the dunes.
‘Look, Mommy, look!’
‘I can see it, darling,’ she said quickly.
He’d been unusually quiet during the walk, and she was grateful to hear a hint of his former excitement back in his voice.
After walking out of Aristo’s office she had collected him from the kitchen, explaining in an over-bright voice that, ‘Daddy is very sorry that he can’t come right now, but he wants us to go without him.’
Watching her son’s face fall, she had wanted to storm back into Aristo’s office, snatch his phone and hurl it out of the window along with his laptop. She knew exactly how George was feeling, and the fact that she had somehow let it happen, by letting her selfish, workaholic ex-husband into his life, felt like a dagger between her ribs.
‘Do you want to have a look inside?’ she whispered.
He nodded and, leaning down, she picked him up. They inspected the ship carefully, but aside from a few small startled crabs they found nothing.
George sighed and, glancing down at him, she saw that his eyes were shining with tears. With an intensity that hurt, she wished she had planned ahead and hidden something for him to find.
‘Daddy would know where the treasure is,’ he said sadly.
She breathed out silently. But Daddy isn’t here. He’s holed up his office, expanding his empire.
‘He might—but we haven’t really looked properly. And most treasure is buried, isn’t it?’ she said reasonably.
‘Yes, it is,’ said a familiar male voice as a shadow fell across her. ‘And no self-respecting pirate would ever leave his treasure lying about on his ship.’
‘Daddy!’
George launched himself at his father.
Looking up at Aristo, Teddie felt her heartbeat accelerate. He was wearing a white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, and a pair of rolled-up dark trousers. He’d borrowed what looked like a scarf and tied it bandana-style around his head. The stubble, however, was his own.
He looked incredibly sexy—but she wasn’t about to let his looks or her libido wipe the slate clean, and nor was she about to expose George to any further disappointment.
‘I think we should be getting back now,’ she said stiffly. ‘We can look for treasure another time.’
Their eyes met, and she glared at him above George’s head.
‘Trust me,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve got this.’
He headed off along the beach with George scampering beside him. Gritting her teeth, she watched them crouch down near a rocky outcrop, then stand up again. And now they were heading back towards her.
‘Mommy, look!’
George was jumping up and down, and even at a distance she could see that his eyes were wide with excitement.
‘I’m coming,’ she called.
She half-walked, half-ran across the sand, to where he was pointing excitedly at a large white stone clearly marked with an X. Her heart seemed to slide sideways and she glanced up at Aristo in confusion.
The sun was behind his head, casting a shadow across his face, but she could feel his eyes, sense their intensity, and suddenly she understood what he’d done.
‘We must have walked right past it,’ she said, when she was completely sure her voice was composed.
Aristo lifted the stone, and then he and George scooped out sand with their hands until finally their fingers found the edges of a wooden box. To Teddie’s eyes it was obviously far too well-preserved to be a pirate’s relic, but she could see that her son had no doubt that it was genuine.
She watched him pull it free, and open it.
‘Oh, George,’ she whispered. The box was filled with gleaming golden coins. ‘You are so lucky.’
He looked up at her, his face trembling with astonishment. ‘Can I take it home?’
‘Of course.’ Reaching out, Aristo cupped his son’s chin in his hand. ‘This is my island, and you’re my son, and everything I have is yours.’
* * *
Back at the villa, they ate early. George was exhausted, and could barely keep his eyes open, so Aristo put him to bed and then joined Teddie on the terrace.
There was a short, delicate pause.
‘I wanted to say thank you for earlier,’ she said quietly. ‘It was magical, and so thoughtful of you.’
‘All I can say is that real pirates had it easy.’ He groaned. ‘Honestly, cleaning those coins nearly killed me. It took so long.’
She laughed. ‘Aristo Leonidas wearing his fingers to the bone! I really wish I’d seen that.’
His eyes on hers were suddenly serious. ‘Well, I’m glad you didn’t. It was my turn to make magic happen for you.’ His mouth twisted. ‘I’m sorry about the phone call.’
‘I’m sorry too.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.’
‘You