The strength of her enmity toward the unknown woman was frightening, jealousy and bitterness raging uncontrollably inside her—making the nausea she had first felt on seeing them swell almost to physical sickness. It was madness, of course—she knew nothing about her replacement. It wasn’t the new mistress’s fault; this was all Andreas’s doing. Andreas, the man who could turn her body into fire with just one touch. The man who had a mechanical pump where his heart should be.
She had to walk. Walk fast to clear her head and get as far from the villa as she could before she did something really stupid. Something stupid like confront them in his bedroom and slap him around the face so hard her hand would sting.
She wouldn’t humiliate herself by risking an emotional scene. She’d walk up to the acropolis, something he’d forbidden her to do alone unless she took a donkey ride, plenty of water, sunscreen, and her bloody sunhat.
Well, damn his rules.
She was taking back charge of her life. She’d go up to the acropolis and stay just as long as she wanted to and…and… Well he probably wouldn’t even notice.
…
“What the hell were you playing at?”
Kizzy could hear Andreas’s voice, but was finding it difficult to open her eyes against the dazzling light that seemed to surround and envelop her. And the strange smell…
“What’s going on?” she murmured, her voice cracking with dryness. “Where are we?”
“We, Kizzy Dean, are in a private hospital room in Rhodes,” he said. “So how are you feeling?”
“Hospital? I don’t understand. How… How did I get here?” she asked groggily, blinking at the brightness of the room as she forced her eyes open.
“I drove us here yesterday in Angie’s decrepit Fiat, that’s how. It’s a complete heap but still a lot quicker than hanging around for an ambulance once we’d hauled your dead weight down from the top of the acropolis.” He took her small, weak hand in his and raked his other hand through the tousled darkness of his hair. “How long had you been up there? You were in a terrible state by the time some passing tourist got hold of your cell and phoned me.”
“You drove?”
“I had no choice,” he replied flatly and broke eye contact. “I thought you were going to die on me, woman. How many times have I told you that you’re not used to the heat we have here? You were mad going up there at the hottest time of the day without any water or even your hat.”
“I didn’t care about the stupid hat!” Kizzy replied stubbornly. She glanced at the drip in her arm and began, with growing horror, to recall the events that had led her to being where she was now. A flash of anger surfaced as she remembered his pretty visitor at the villa. “I’m sorry to have spoiled your afternoon by obliging you to take the wheel of a car when you clearly had more exciting things planned.”
“Such as?”
Kizzy winced as she eased herself upright against the crisp hospital linen. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter any more.”
“Well, it matters to me, Kizzy. I want you to tell me exactly what was going on in your head—”
His words were cut off as a broad man in a white coat thrust unceremoniously into the room with an official-looking clipboard and nodded a greeting.
“Kyrios Lazarides and Miss Dean, I’m pleased to tell you that all the test results are back and that you can leave today on the strict understanding that you rest and stay out of the heat for a few days.” He bestowed a paternal frown in Kizzy’s direction. “A policy that will apply even more strictly over the next thirty-five weeks or so. The baby has suffered no ill effects from this episode, but I must stress how important it is that it doesn’t occur again.”
The doctor handed over a discharge form for Kizzy to sign, oblivious to the stunned look on her face. “I’ll need to get some notes forwarded to the doctor overseeing your pregnancy, so if you could leave the details with my receptionist when you go—”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Andreas interrupted quickly as he took the man by the shoulders and hurried him toward the door. “I will take care of everything, I assure you.” He slapped the doctor on the back. “We’ll be having an evening wedding—much cooler for them both. You must come, file mou, and we will thank you properly for all you have done.”
Chapter Twelve
“We can’t get married,” Kizzy said firmly as Andreas placed a jug of iced lemonade in front of her on the terrace. It had been a difficult journey back to the villa, trying not to make eye contact with a triumphant, purposeful Andreas as she wrestled with her conscience all the way, those unanswered questions burning a hole in her head.
“We must,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “We’ve been over this, Kizzy. You are expecting my child—it is the only respectable thing to do.”
“No we must not!” Kizzy waved away the drink he was trying to press against her lips. “And stop fussing around me; it’s driving me nuts.”
“This is just your hormones talking, Kizzy.”
Kizzy took a deep breath as she prepared herself for what she was about to do. It was clear that she would have to spell out the harsh and unpleasant reality of the situation, as Andreas was not going to budge on the issue.
“I understand that you want your child to be legitimate, even though its mother is not.” She swallowed hard as she glanced up to see the flint glittering in his eyes. “But you must also understand what a mistake it would be to bring a child into a loveless marriage of convenience.”
“Don’t worry so much, kardia mou,” he replied lightly. “It’s not good for either of you.”
“I’m serious, Andreas.” Her unsmiling expression silenced him. “My mother did it with my stepfather and your parents did it too—could you honestly wish that misery on your own child? Besides, you told me you would never marry again—it must have slipped your mind in all the excitement.”
“Our marriage wouldn’t be like that, Kizzy,” he responded firmly and went to take her hand in his. “What we have is very different.”
Kizzy shot him a look of incredulity. “It is?”
“Of course!” Andreas withdrew his hand from hers, stood up and hid it in his trouser pocket, almost as if it had been stung. “These last few weeks have been amazing; we complement each other perfectly. Every partnership will have its moments of disagreement, naturally, but I see no reason why we can’t build a successful marriage together based on compromise and mutual respect. And there’s certainly no problem for us in the bedroom.”