produced a velvet tray of rings—some plain, some embellished and all of them extremely costly, judging by the price-tags.
Did the man notice her marked lack of enthusiasm and wonder why she wasn’t happy or triumphant to have such an eligible man fussing over her? Did he notice her flinch as Xenon masterminded the whole operation, his gaze flicking over the tray with the eye of the connoisseur as he made suggestions about what kind of ring she’d prefer. But she couldn’t really walk out of there empty-handed and so in the end she chose the simplest of them all—a discreet band in eighteen-carat gold.
‘Try not to lose this one, darling,’ murmured Xenon in English. Picking up the ring, he slid it slowly onto her finger, his blue eyes narrowing behind the lush curtain of his lashes as if he had felt the automatic tensing of her hand.
As Xenon’s payment card was being processed, the shop owner leaned forward to admire the clunky silver bangle which was dangling from Lexi’s wrist.
‘This is beautiful,’ he said.
‘My wife makes jewellery,’ put in Xenon helpfully.
Lexi shot him a furious look, thinking that he was getting carried away. He didn’t need to play the proud husband in front of someone they were never going to see again.
The shopkeeper nodded. ‘You sell anything here on Rhodes?’
‘No. Only in England,’ she said, with a smile.
‘You want to bring me some pieces to look at? I’m always on the lookout for original work. Tourists like to spend money when they are on holiday.’
She opened her mouth to explain that her visit here was temporary, but once again Xenon butted in.
‘We have rather a busy schedule at the moment, don’t we, darling?’
Lexi wanted to drum her fists against his chest and tell him that she was not his darling. She wanted to tear the fake wedding ring from her finger and hurl it down on the counter, but she respected Xenon’s position within the local community, even if he didn’t respect her feelings. She began to wonder how on earth she was going to maintain this crazy façade for more than a minute when he seemed determined to get under her skin at every opportunity.
The walls of the shop felt as if they were closing in on her and, deliberately, she looked at her watch. ‘We really ought to be going,’ she said.
They stepped outside into the sunlight and Lexi was just about to give him a piece of her mind when a flare of white, incandescent light almost blinded her. A man dressed in denim leapt out from the side of the building and began firing off a rapid series of photos, pushing a giant camera in her face.
For a moment they were both too startled to move before Xenon swore at him.
‘What the hell?’ he snarled, making a lunge for the camera.
But although he was fast, the photographer had the element of surprise on his side. He sprinted off and jumped onto the back of a waiting motorbike, which began to weave its way up the street before roaring off into the distance, lost to sight.
‘I’m going after him!’ Xenon snarled, but Lexi clamped a restraining hand on his bunched arm.
‘How? Not by foot, you won’t—and you’ll never catch him in this enormous car!’ But she was shaking. Shaking like a leaf. She hadn’t been ambushed like that in a long time and she had forgotten how exposed it could make you feel. She could see several tourists stopping now and, inevitably, some of them were getting their phones out. ‘Now look what’s happening,’ she moaned.
‘Get in the car,’ said Xenon, pushing her into the back seat before sliding in beside her.
Once they’d pulled away he took out his mobile phone, punched out a number and began speaking in a flurry of Greek for several furious minutes. The call finished, he turned to her. ‘Perhaps I should have anticipated that might happen. I’m sorry.’
‘Well, it’s a bit late to be sorry,’ she said crossly, trying not to melt beneath the genuine contrition in his blue eyes. ‘That was a gift of a photo. Why, I could even write the headlines for them: Greek Billionaire And Ex-Wife Ring The Changes.’
‘That’s very good, Lex. Did you ever think about a career in copywriting?’
‘Don’t you dare try and make a joke about it. Didn’t you stop to think that someone might have seen us going into a jewellery shop and rung the press?’
‘Oddly enough, the press aren’t my first priority. I don’t spend my damned life tiptoeing around them.’
‘Well, maybe you should. Now they’ll think there’s a story when there isn’t. A divorcing couple buying a brand-new wedding ring! Why don’t we find somewhere where I can buy a white dress and a bunch of flowers and we can maybe pose for some more photos?’
‘Stop worrying.’ His voice was soothing. ‘I’ve sorted it.’
‘How?’
‘Just leave it to me.’
To Lexi’s surprise, the journey passed quickly and suddenly the magnificent Kanellis estate was coming into view—a glorious citadel overlooking the medieval town of Lindos. But despite the beauty which surrounded her, Lexi felt her body tense as the car drove through the electronic gates before coming to a halt in the main courtyard.
Because she still had to face Marina, didn’t she? And hadn’t that always been a stumbling block?
Xenon’s mother hadn’t been her biggest fan. She clearly disapproved of a flashy English pop-star with a troubled background. It didn’t matter what Lexi did—or what she tried to do—she was never able to do it right. Toning down her image and trying to blend into an aristocratic Greek background was never going to work. She’d never broken through that initial barrier of hostility and it seemed that her mother-in-law could never get past the fact that she thought her beloved son had married beneath him.
But that was no longer relevant, Lexi told herself. I’m doing this for Jason. And I am no longer that woman who is so easily intimidated.
‘Here we are,’ said Xenon. He caught her gaze and held it. ‘Ready?’
She drew in a breath. ‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’
The driver opened the door for her and she stepped out into the sunny central courtyard where she was immediately enveloped in warm, fragrant air.
Looking down she could see the crystal waters of St Nicolas Bay and the hills which framed it like a picture. She could smell pine and lemons and hear the magnified hum of the cicadas. It was so typically and beautifully Greek that for a moment Lexi just stood there, drinking in the moment.
The land had been owned by the family for centuries and the tiered estate was vast and sprawling. All three of its bougainvillea-covered properties were entirely separate—each with their own private gardens. Pots of tumbling flowers provided splashes of colour—and the infinity pool seemed to connect with the sea and sky in layers of different, dazzling blues. Lexi had often wondered what it must have been like to have grown up in a place as beautiful as this. A place which was as different from the scruffy social housing where she’d spent her formative years as night was to day.
Suddenly she saw a familiar figure emerging from the main house, the sun illuminating the new threads of grey which were streaking her dark hair.
Her workaday dress was covered with an apron and Lexi’s heart clenched in her chest as the woman grew closer. ‘Phyllida!’ she croaked—and then all the breath was knocked out of her lungs as she was caught in a fierce embrace by Xenon’s London housekeeper.
For a few moments the women hugged but didn’t speak and Lexi was glad because the lump in her throat would have made speech impossible. Because it had been Phyllida who had been with her in London the night Lexi had started to bleed. Phyllida who had rung for the doctor and accompanied Lexi to hospital when the pain had got so bad and nobody could