with perspiration breaking out on her clammy skin she read about how the newly married Apollo Metraxis had been pictured entering his apartment building with a very beautiful girl and emerging with her still in tow the following morning. For a few moments she thought she would be sick again but she fought the urge fiercely.
So, what she had always expected to happen had happened within only a few months of their wedding. It was no big deal, she told herself squarely and, casting the tablet aside, she went for a shower. Apollo had said he would try to be faithful but the very first time he had had to leave her behind he had found alternative entertainment of the sort he was most accustomed to enjoying. His behaviour sent a powerful message. Clearly, Pixie was no more important or special to him than any other woman he had slept with. How could she ever have thought otherwise?
And Izzy Jerome was a very beautiful girl with long corn-blonde hair and endless legs. She was also famous, a fairly recently discovered model/celebrity. Apollo’s type in every way. Well, she wasn’t about to make a giant scene over Izzy or do anything silly, Pixie warned herself severely. It was time to default to their original marriage setting in which they shared a business arrangement and nothing else. At least she could save face that way, she reasoned in despair, a sudden convulsive sob creeping up on her and squeezing her throat painfully tight.
But she wasn’t going to cry over Apollo, Pixie told herself angrily. He wasn’t worth her tears. He was selfish and shallow and his betrayal had literally been written in the stars because she had always been well aware that leopards didn’t change their spots. The phone was ringing again somewhere in the distance but she ignored it, sitting on the shower seat while the water beat down on her and washed away the shameful tears. A sob escaped her straining lungs and she clenched her teeth in frustration. There was no way she was prepared to greet Apollo with red-rimmed eyes that would tell him just how badly he had hurt her.
And willpower did finally triumph over the tears. She switched off the shower and stepped out to grab a towel but only minutes later found herself throwing up again. Utterly wretched, she curled up on the cold floor for several minutes with Hector nuzzling against her legs. She petted him with a shaking hand. She felt dizzy and sick and dreadful but she wasn’t about to show it. Apollo had done her a favour, she reasoned miserably. Her body was already changing. Her breasts had swelled, her waist had thickened and her tummy was no longer perfectly flat. Apollo would soon have lost interest in her anyway and it was better that it happened sooner rather than later.
After all, she had to learn to be independent again and stand on her own feet. Her baby would need her to be strong and brave. She had to cope and rise above the terrible hurt trying to overwhelm her common sense. He didn’t love her; he had never loved her. The only woman Apollo had ever loved had been the evil stepmother who used him when he was far too young and immature to protect himself and had destroyed his trust and his ability to love. Was it any wonder that he had never had a serious relationship with a woman since then?
Slowly, clumsily, Pixie got herself upright again and began to dry her hair. Apollo would be home in a couple of hours with the gynaecologist he was flying out from London with him and she refused to humiliate herself by behaving like an emotional wreck and letting him appreciate what a fool she had been where he was concerned. Her pride would never recover from such an exposure. And how could she have fallen madly in love with a male programmed from the outset to break her heart? How stupid was that?
And even worse she had that wretched party to get through. As if that was not enough Apollo had contrived to destroy Christmas for her as well for the two of them had been invited to celebrate Christmas with Vito and Holly in Tuscany. Of course she would cry off now. She had no plans to take the shine off the festivities by attending as a betrayed and broken-hearted wife, who had nowhere else to go over Christmas. Apollo would probably take Izzy Jerome with him instead. Of course, Izzy might not still be Apollo’s flavour of the month in three weeks’ time, she thought wretchedly. His interest in a woman rarely lasted that long.
Squeezing herself into a stretchy skirt, Pixie blinked back fresh tears. Why was she putting on weight so fast? According to what she had read she was supposed to be gaining weight very gradually, not piling it on as though she had been eating for an entire rugby team!
* * *
In London, Apollo paced beside his private jet while he spoke to Vito. Who could ever have guessed that marriage could be so stressful? His life pre-Pixie now seemed free as the air, a time of immaturity and egotism. Back then nothing had bothered him very much, not the scandals, not the grasping women, not even the horrendous rumours and gossip about his lifestyle. He hadn’t had to explain himself or defend his reputation to anyone because he truthfully hadn’t cared what anyone thought about him. It hadn’t mattered as long as he knew that he had done no wrong. But now he had Pixie and everything had changed out of all recognition. He had a wife who was pregnant and vulnerable and innately distrustful of him.
‘The way the paparazzi follow you around it was bound to happen,’ Vito contended. ‘And now that you’ve achieved your objectives and she’s pregnant…does it really matter?’
Pure rage slivered through Apollo. ‘If it hurts her, it matters,’ he breathed in a raw undertone. ‘Of course, it matters!’
‘You don’t sound quite as detached as you usually do,’ his friend commented.
‘Look, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,’ Apollo concluded, ending the call in sheer frustration.
Obviously, he wasn’t detached. He was in turmoil. He was thinking things he’d never thought. He was feeling things he had never allowed himself to feel and the result was a state of mind dangerously close to panic. He boarded the jet with the fancy gynaecologist and his small team, yet another source of worry to be dealt with. Dr Floros had suggested that he call in a consultant when Pixie’s blood tests had come back with an unexpectedly high count and the result had been forwarded to London. The scan would hopefully reveal whether or not there was any cause for concern. Apollo had persuaded the island doctor not to reveal that fact to Pixie in advance of the scan, lest it upset her, but he knew the older man was planning to share the result with her the following day.
When had his life become so impossibly complicated? An image of Pixie on their wedding day was superimposed over his troubled thoughts. But no, he reasoned, it had started even before then. From the very first day when she’d punched him Pixie had been different. She wasn’t impressed by him, she was never impressed by him…except occasionally in bed, he conceded abstractedly, a shadowy smile briefly relaxing the tense line of his sensual mouth.
Unlike other women, Pixie had only ever treated him as an equal. She judged him by the same rules she applied to everyone else. She didn’t make excuses for him or handle him with kid gloves. She didn’t believe that his vast wealth entitled him to special treatment. In fact she demanded more from him than any woman had ever demanded, only her currency of choice wasn’t cash or gifts. Apollo had learnt the hard way that cash or gifts were easy to give while everything else was a challenge demanding more than he was usually prepared to give.
During the flight random memories drifted through his mind. Pixie, grinning with triumph and punching the air after that insane dive she had made from the top deck of Circe. Pixie staring dreamily out to sea as the sun went down in splendour, saying, ‘You really don’t appreciate how lucky you are to see this every day.’ Pixie wandering round the picturesque narrow village streets on Nexos, admiring colourful flowerboxes, sleeping cats, starlit eyes wide with interest while she drank lemonade in the café overlooking the harbour and watched the fishermen bringing in their catch. She made everything fresh, Apollo acknowledged in growing bewilderment; she made him see things through less jaded eyes.
* * *
Pixie could feel her facial muscles lock
