The Marakaios Marriage. Кейт Хьюит

clinging to her legs; Leonidas, Antonios’s younger brother, giving her one of his sardonic looks; Ava and Xanthe, his younger sisters, eyeing her with sceptical curiosity, as if they’d already decided she didn’t belong. And the questions...she would have to answer so many questions...

      ‘Antonios,’ she said, his name little more than a croak, and he glanced at her briefly before snapping his gaze back to the road.

      ‘What is it?’

      She focused on her breathing, tried to keep it even. ‘Would it...would it be possible for me to come to the villa quietly? I mean, not have everyone waiting and...I’d rather not see anyone at first.’ In. Out. In. Out. With effort she kept her breathing measured and her heart rate started to slow. She could do this. She’d managed to control her anxiety for most of her life. She could do it now. She had to.

      ‘The point,’ Antonios returned, ‘is for you to see people and be seen. No one thinks anything is wrong between us, Lindsay.’

      But they would have guessed. Of course they would have guessed. His siblings weren’t stupid, and neither was Daphne. Lindsay had been gone for six whole months and then Antonios had come all the way to New York to fetch her. Everyone would be wondering just what had gone wrong between them.

      ‘I understand,’ Lindsay said, her eyes closed as she pressed back against the seat and kept concentrating on those deep, even breaths. ‘But I’d rather not have everyone there when we arrive.’

      ‘What am I meant to do? Send them away?’

      She opened her eyes as she tried to suppress a stab of irritation or even anger, wondering if he was deliberately being difficult. Or was he just obstinately obtuse, as usual? ‘No, of course not. I just don’t want them all lined up in front of the villa, waiting to welcome me.’ Or not welcome, as the case well might be.

      Antonios was silent for a moment, his gaze narrowed on the road in front of them, the sun glinting off the tarmac. ‘You mean like last time.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘You fainted,’ Antonios recalled slowly. ‘When you got out of the car.’

      So he had remembered. Just. ‘Yes.’

      Antonios’s expression tightened and he turned back to the road. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he said, and they didn’t speak for the rest of the journey.

      Two hours later they’d left the highway for the narrow, twisting lane that curved its way between the mountains of Giona and Parnassus. They came around a bend and Villa Marakaios lay before them, nestled in a valley between the mountains, its many whitewashed buildings gleaming brightly under the afternoon sun.

      Antonios drove down the twisting road towards the villa, his eyes narrowed against the sun, his mouth a hard, grim line.

      As they drove through the gates he turned to the left, surprising her, for the front of the villa, with its many gleaming steps and impressive portico, was before them. Instead, Antonios drove around the back of the complex to a small whitewashed house with an enclosed courtyard and latticed shutters painted a cheerful blue. It looked, Lindsay thought in weary bemusement, like the villa she’d once imagined in her naive daydreams. A honeymoon house.

      ‘We can stay here,’ Antonios said tersely, and he killed the engine. ‘It’s used as a guesthouse, but it’s empty now.’

      ‘What?’ Lindsay stared at him in surprise. Last time they’d stayed in the main villa with all the family and staff; only Leonidas had his own place. Since his father’s death, Antonios had been appointed the CEO of Marakaios Enterprises and essentially lord of the manor.

      Now he shrugged and got out of the car. ‘It will make it easier for us to maintain the pretence if we are not so much in the public eye.’ He went around to the boot of the car for their cases, not looking at her as he added, ‘And perhaps it will be easier for you.’

      Lindsay stared at him, his dark head bent as he hefted their suitcases and then started walking towards the villa. He was being thoughtful, she realized. And he’d given credence to what she’d told him, if just a little.

      ‘Thank you,’ she murmured and with a wary, uncertain hope burgeoning inside her she followed him into the villa.