the hemlines were too short, the necklines too revealing or snug in fit and the colour choices too bold, but then she wasn’t used to showing off her figure or seeking attention. Maybe that had been Angel’s nefarious plan all along, she reflected with wry amusement; maybe he hoped to drive her out shopping by landing her with a selection of garments she considered too daring. She certainly wouldn’t put such scheming past him. The lingerie, however, was a superb fit and very much to her taste, plain and comfortable rather than provocative or elaborate.
One of the maids walked onto the terrace to announce a visitor and a moment later Roula Paulides strolled out to join Merry, a wide smile of greeting pinned to her beautiful face. ‘I heard Angel’s helicopter taking off during the night and thought this would be a good opportunity for us to get better acquainted,’ she admitted.
Determined to look welcoming, Merry smiled and ordered fresh coffee. Roula was one of Angel’s most long-standing friends yet Merry was also conscious of the possessive vibe that flared through her whenever she relived how she had once felt seeing her husband in the glamorous blonde’s company.
Roula took a seat, very self-assured in her designer casuals, her blonde hair secured in a stylish twist, her brown eyes bright as she smiled again. And something about that second smile warned Merry that her visitor wasn’t half as relaxed as she was trying to appear.
‘I want to make it clear that I won’t make a habit of visiting like this,’ Roula assured her smoothly as she lifted her coffee cup. ‘We’re both entitled to our privacy. We’ll only occasionally meet when Angel holds a big party because that is the only time he invites me to his home.’
‘You’re welcome to visit any time you like,’ Merry responded easily, wondering if, in a roundabout, devious way, she was being accused of being a jealous, possessive wife likely to resent and distrust any female friend of her husband’s.
‘Oh, that wouldn’t do. Angel wouldn’t allow that,’ Roula declared. ‘He wouldn’t consider that appropriate in the circumstances. I thought he would’ve mentioned our arrangement by now but, although he never justifies his lifestyle, he’s like most men: keen to avoid conflict.’
Merry’s eyes had steadily widened throughout that speech as she struggled to work out what the other woman was talking about. ‘What arrangement?’ she heard herself ask baldly. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to.’
Roula Paulides settled cynically amused brown eyes on her. ‘I’m Angel’s mistress. I have been for years.’
For a split second, Merry didn’t believe that she had heard that announcement because it struck her like a blow, freezing her brain into incredulous inactivity, leaving her staring back at her companion in blank disbelief.
Roula lifted and dropped a thin shoulder in acknowledgement. ‘It’s how he lives and I have never been able to refuse Angel anything. If you and I can reach an accommodation that we can both live with, all our lives will run much more smoothly. I’m not the jealous type and I hope you aren’t either.’
Merry sucked in a shuddering breath. ‘Let me get this straight. You came here today to tell me that you’re sleeping with my husband?’
‘Oh, not recently. Angel has no need of me right now with a new wife in his bed,’ the Greek woman declared drily. ‘But in time, when you are no longer a novelty, he will return to me. Other women have always come and gone in his life. I accept that. I’ve always accepted that and if you are wise and wish to remain his wife you will accept it too. You can’t own him, you can’t cage him.’
Merry looked beyond Roula, unnerved by the sudden throbbing intensity of her low-pitched voice and the brash, hard confidence with which she spoke, the suggestion that she knew Angel better than anyone else. On the hill above the village sat the Paulides home, a rather boxy modern white villa, which Angel had casually identified as being where Roula lived. Shock was winging through Merry in giddy waves of increasingly desperate denial, her fingers curling into defensive claws on her lap. It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t possibly be true that Angel had some permanent, non-exclusive sexual arrangement with the other woman that he had remained silent about.
‘You seem shocked, but why? We were childhood friends and have always been very close. We understand each other very well,’ Roula told her calmly. ‘In the same way I accepted that after your child was born, Angel would inevitably end up marrying you. He doesn’t love you any more than he loves me but he will do his duty by his daughter. I’m here now only to assure you that I will never try to interfere in your marriage in any way and that I hope you will not be spiteful and try to prevent Angel from seeing me.’
Merry swallowed hard at that unlikely hope. ‘What’s in this weird arrangement for you?’ she asked bluntly.
Roula vented a laugh and tossed her head. ‘I have a share of him. I’m willing to settle for that. I’ve loved him since I was a girl. He rescued my father from bankruptcy and financed the set-up of my beauty salons. When I was younger I hoped that he would eventually see me as a possible wife, but of course that hasn’t happened. Marrying the mistress isn’t in the Valtinos genes.’
Nausea stirred in Merry’s tummy. Swallowing her coffee without choking on it was a challenge. Roula managed to make it all sound so normal, so inevitable. She loved Angel, unashamedly did what it took to hold onto her small stake in his life while accepting that there would be other women and eventually a wife she would have to share him with.
But such acceptance was nowhere within Merry’s grasp. She was an all-or-nothing person. She had told Angel before she agreed to marry him that he could have no other women in his life and that she expected complete fidelity. He had agreed to that boundary. Had he lied? Had he expected her to change her mind? Or had he been planning to be so discreet that she never found out that he sometimes slept with Roula Paulides?
Shock banging through her blitzed brain, Merry struggled to relocate her reasoning powers. Did she simply accept that the blonde was telling her the truth? Why would Roula lie about such a relationship? Could she simply be trying to cause trouble in Merry’s marriage? But what would be the point of that unless she was already engaged in an affair with Angel with something to gain from his marriage breaking down?
And then, according to Roula, Angel had not been with her recently? Or simply since his marriage? Merry’s head was spinning. She wanted to pack her bags, gather up her daughter and run back to the UK to establish a sane and normal life where a blonde beauty did not calmly stroll into her home one morning to announce that she was in love with Merry’s husband and keen to continue having hassle-free sex with him.
Stark pain sliced through Merry, cutting through the numbness of shock. She had been happy, she registered wretchedly, hopelessly, helplessly happy with Angel and their marriage as it was. She had seen nothing to question, nothing to rouse her suspicions. She had believed his promise of fidelity, believed that they had a future, but if she believed Roula her future with Angel could only be a deceitful and fragile farce because she would never ever accept him betraying her with another woman. Nor would she ever share him.
‘Well, you’ve said your piece. Now I think you should leave,’ Merry told Roula quietly, her self-discipline absolute because wild horses could not have dredged a more vulnerable reaction from her.
‘I do hope I haven’t upset you,’ the Greek woman said unconvincingly. ‘I suspected you didn’t know and that wasn’t right.’
As far as Merry was concerned there was nothing right about Roula’s attitude to either Angel or his marriage or even his wife. Roula had developed her own convictions based on what she wanted.
