far side of the room to stand behind her and had put his hand on her shoulder.
‘Come on,’ he said.
His voice was gentle and so was the hand which helped lever her to her feet. He moved to take her place by the bed and leaned over to kiss his grandmother tenderly on the forehead. And Lexi could feel a terrible, aching sadness.
Outside the day seemed bright—almost too bright—and the intense beauty provided an exquisite contrast to what she had just witnessed. She stood there, unsure what to do next, and when Xenon stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her, she didn’t have the strength to oppose him. She leaned against him, breathing in his distinctive scent and allowing some of his strength to flow into her.
She didn’t know how long they stood like that—maybe only for a couple of minutes, but when she tried to pull away he turned her round so that she was facing him and his blue eyes looked very bright.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
‘I was glad to do it. She is a remarkable woman.’
But she found herself thinking that he was showing emotion—real emotion. And some lingering sense of resentment began to bubble up inside her. Because he hadn’t shown emotion over their baby, had he?
‘Lex?’
She swallowed. She couldn’t go back and she couldn’t keep blaming him for the way he’d been. She guessed he had coped in the way only he knew how to cope, as had she. It was just that they hadn’t managed to cope together.
‘Lex?’ he said again. ‘We need to think about how we’re going to spend our day and you look like you could use a little sun on your face. How about a trip around the island?’ A dry, teasing note entered his voice. ‘Maybe take the bike out?’
She looked at him suspiciously. ‘You’re not still riding that clapped-out old motorbike?’
‘Actually no, I have a new one. All gleaming black and chrome and much more comfortable than the last. It’s the only way to travel.’
‘Thankfully, it’s not.’
‘Oh, come on—you know you always secretly liked riding pillion.’
She met the mockery in his eyes and told herself this was dangerous. That a sensible person would change into a bikini and take a book down to the pool and maybe spend the rest of the day reading. But then she thought about Sofia. She thought about an island she had missed and a beautiful day which might never come again.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Why not?’
IT WAS A long time since Lexi had been on the back of a motorbike. Not since her last visit here, just before she’d become pregnant. Before the pressure had become so intense and they’d started to treat her as if she had been made of porcelain. When she’d been made so aware of the significance of the child she carried...
Squashing the helmet over her ponytailed hair, she wriggled onto the pillion seat behind him.
‘Where do you want to go?’ he threw over his shoulder.
‘Surprise me.’
‘Okay.’ He kick-started the bike and it pulled away with a throaty roar as the electronic gates swung open.
They headed off down the road, with dust billowing up in clouds as they passed and Lexi felt the first heady rush of freedom as they headed down the hillside.
She noticed that he avoided the busy coastal road and wondered if he might take her to the famous Acropolis of Lindos, with its Knights’ stairway and view over St Paul’s bay, which was considered one of the most stunning in all Greece. But that would have been an unwelcome surprise because it was the place where he’d asked her to marry him, during an unforgettable day of high romance and promise. And an overwhelming sense of relief washed over her when he headed inland, through the tiny hillside village of Laerma and then out onto the Profila road.
Xenon’s new bike was powerful, but Lexi realised that he must have remembered her fear of high speed, because he quashed his dare-devil nature and took it at a relatively easy pace. Which meant that she was able to enjoy the breathtaking views of an island which the ancient Greeks had described as ‘more beautiful than the sun’.
The only trouble with motorbikes, she reflected, was that you had to get close. Like, really close. As a passenger you had to grip the waist of the person in front and cling to them like glue. She was being given a legitimate reason to touch her husband and she couldn’t decide if it was heaven or hell.
Her senses felt as if they were being assaulted from all sides. The beauty of the island and the sense of freedom which warmed her skin as she hung onto Xenon was heady stuff. And she wasn’t naïve enough to deny that the throb of the powerful machine between her legs was making her think about things she definitely shouldn’t be thinking about.
They drove for about twenty miles before he brought the bike to a halt on the dusty road close to the monastery of Moni Thari and turned his head to look at her. ‘Do you want to stop and go inside?’
She’d been here before, too. In fact, Lexi realised that there were few places on the island she hadn’t visited, but today it seemed appropriate to go inside that spiritual place and to think of Sofia.
‘I’d like that.’
He parked close to the monastery and they went inside. The thickness of the ancient walls meant that the interior was cool and welcoming and the echoing silence seemed to seep into her skin and fill her with a strange sense of calm.
But as they paused to study the exquisite frescoes, Lexi felt as if she was being emotionally tugged in all directions. She was acutely aware of Xenon at her side, his motorcycle helmet tucked beneath his arm. With his dark hair ruffled and windswept, he looked dressed-down and casual. But no matter what he wore or how he presented himself, he always drew the eye.
She could see a couple of beautiful Swedish women turning to stare at him and she saw the expressions on their faces. And it was always like that. Women always looked at him and wanted him. Yet there was nothing to suggest that the man studying the frescoes with such rapt curiosity was a powerful billionaire with global influence. He just looked so very Greek.
Afterwards, he drove them back to Laerma, only this time they stopped for a drink in the little village. Under the dappled shadows of the trees, they sat outside a small restaurant whose owner came out to greet Xenon, shaking his hand enthusiastically, as if he was an old friend.
It appeared he was, because Xenon introduced him to Lexi as Petros. He served them with thick coffee, water and a plate of salty olives and went inside, only to reappear a few minutes later holding a small plastic bag, which he handed to Xenon.
‘Efharisto,’ said Xenon, inclining his head slightly as he glanced inside.
‘Parakalo.’ Petros gave him a questioning look. ‘Ine simantiko?’
‘Ne.’
Lexi waited until they’d finished their drinks and were walking back towards the bike
