The Greek's Chosen Wife. Lynne Graham

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saw a photo of her in a magazine. She was wearing freaky floral Wellington boots and a woolly hat, and she was holding a rabbit…How can you prefer her to me?’ Tania wailed in melodramatic disbelief.

      Pale with outrage below his bronzed skin, Nikolos stayed only long enough to spell out the fact that their connection was at an end and he would not be visiting again. A stormy light in his usually cool gaze, he flung himself into the opulent limo. The floral boots had been one of the very few successful gifts he had managed to choose for his wife. How dare Tania sneer at her? He never discussed Pudding with anyone, not even his family. But the state of his marriage did awaken a good deal of curiosity. After all, he had been married for almost eight years and had lived apart from his wife for most of that period.

      Time had done surprisingly little to blot out his recollection of their disastrous wedding. When he recalled his own behaviour towards the close of that day, a raw sense of guilt and insecurity wholly foreign to his forceful nature still assailed Nikolos. He rarely let himself think about it: going there was not productive. He had had to accept Pudding’s refusal to even discuss what had happened that night. Her distress had silenced him as nothing else could have done. While she had been reluctant to even listen to his explanation and his apologies, he had been too proud to admit that he had no memory whatsoever of events on their wedding night. Naturally he had been afraid of what he might have said or done to her during it. Had he sunk low enough to take his angry sense of injustice out on her in bed? Had he been rough?

      Those all too male apprehensions still haunted Nikolos in low moments and sent a cold stab of foreboding through him, for he knew his own flaws only too well. He had the devil’s own temper. He was very hard and had often in recent years been called cold, callous and cruel. Dealing with Theo Demakis, he had had to be all of those things many times over. Had he not been strong and ruthless, he would still have been dependent on his father-in-law’s goodwill. Instead he had paid back the amount incurred by the debts Theo had settled, left his family secure and bought his independence back. He had then picked the optimum right moment to walk away from Demakis International with Theo’s agreement, if not his blessing.

      In truth there were very few people in the world that Nikolos cared about. While willing to do his utmost to help those precious few, he remained utterly indifferent to the plight of everyone else. Around Prudence, however, he made a major effort to be a softer, gentler and more compassionate guy than he could ever be in real life. Her temperament was the polar opposite of his, for she was neither aggressive nor cunning. Indeed, human evil always shocked Pudding, who was full of decent scruples and lived life entirely by the rules. Unselfish, kind and endlessly sympathetic, she had trained as a veterinary nurse and now devoted all her spare time to the needs of the animals in the sanctuary she ran. From behind the scenes, Nikolos tried to protect her from those who would have taken advantage of her trusting nature. Of course, he cared about her: she was his wife. Possibly, it would soon be time for him to bring an end to their separate lives and settle down into being married, Nikolos conceded lazily.

      Prudence woke up at six on the morning of her birthday and, as always, let her gaze fall on the photograph of Nikolos that held pride of place by her bed: black hair tousled by the rain, stunning dark eyes gleaming, perfect white teeth dazzling against his bronzed skin as he laughed and mopped himself dry in her homely kitchen. It had been taken the previous year on one of his flying visits. She had entire albums and scrapbooks filled with photos, tabloid cuttings and memorabilia about him. For so long she had acted like a schoolgirl running a one-woman secret fan club.

      Even though she saw him only a handful of times a year, Nikolos had been the centre of her world. His sexy drawl on the phone and the nurse he had insisted on hiring had lifted her sagging spirits when times were tough during her mother’s long, slow decline and after her death the previous year. She had enjoyed days out in London when he would meet her for lunch and afterwards give her the official tour of his latest new office building or his most recent business acquisition. Although she had never lived with him as his wife, she was proud that she had had the maturity to overcome the disillusionment of their wedding night and win his trust as a friend.

      It was really only after Trixie had died that Prudence had had the time to think about her own needs and what was best for her, and she had almost immediately boxed up the albums and put them away. Nourishing a morbid interest in Nik’s taste in other women and cherishing a girlish flame of unrequited love was doing her no favours. Having finally come to terms with those facts, she had sunk her energy into the animal sanctuary. She had got over Nik and her longings for him. That was an achievement of which she was immensely proud. Slowly but surely she had also begun to understand what would really make her happy. To be truly, madly happy, she had decided, she needed a child on whom she could heap all the love she had to give. And very fortunately for her, she thought wryly, medical science meant that she was not dependent on Nik to make her dream of motherhood come true.

      Feeling buoyant at the very idea of attaining her dream of eventually becoming a mother, Prudence reached for the photo of Nik, opened the drawer in the bedside cabinet and carefully put it away. Before she could even contemplate having a child, she had to get a divorce from Nik and she was ready to take that step. Once they were divorced, however, Nik would vanish from her life, for she was convinced that he only maintained regular contact with her out of a sense of duty and responsibility. Some day soon, therefore, she would never lay eyes on him again…

      An unexpected knock on the bedroom door jolted Prudence out of her disturbing thoughts. Dottie, a rotund little dynamo of a woman in her fifties, appeared with a broad smile and a breakfast tray.

      ‘Dottie…my goodness, you shouldn’t have!’

      ‘After everything that you’ve done for Sam and me, I don’t want to hear another word. It’s your birthday. Enjoy! We’ll feed the animals today—’

      ‘No, no way! Leo’s coming and the vet’s due later. You’ll have plenty to do while I’m out. Anyway, breakfast is more than sufficient.’

      But of course Dottie and her husband, Sam, the tenants of the tiny cottage attached to the end wall of the farmhouse, had a card and a gift for her as well. Prudence embarked on the morning feeding routine later than she usually did.

      ‘So…this is the big day,’ Leo commented when he arrived to help her. ‘Ready for blast-off?’

      ‘Stop teasing me.’ Prudence threw the tall, fair-haired teacher a cheerful look of reproach as she doled out bran mash for a pair of elderly donkeys. The sanctuary had a rota of willing helpers but Leo Burleigh was the most knowledgeable and regular. He lived only a field away and in recent years had become her closest friend. ‘Nik won’t bat an eyelash when I tell him my plans. He’s unshockable—’

      ‘With regard to his own freedom of choice,’ Leo slotted in wryly. ‘But I’ll be surprised if he takes the same liberal view of his wife’s lifestyle—’

      ‘For goodness’ sake, don’t call me that.’ Prudence tossed some carrot and apple into the mash before moving on to the next shed to attend to an orphaned fox cub that had been brought in. ‘I’m not and I have never been Nik’s wife—’

      ‘Yet he refers to you as his wife in interviews—’

      ‘That’s just because journalists ask him stupid, nosy questions and he’s forced to pretend—’

      ‘Maybe he’s not pretending. It could be that he’s very much an old-style, unreconstructed and thoroughly sexist Greek tycoon—’

      ‘Nik’s not an old-style anything!’

      ‘Isn’t he? Some would say that accepting an arranged marriage

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