have, Victoria.’
‘Don’t you dare patronise me!’
‘Now, now.’ His smile widened as he realised that he had very successfully hit his target. ‘There is no need for hysteria.’
Which, of course, made her want to give in to exactly that. She could have screamed. Or told him that he was the most egotistical and controlling man she had ever met. But she forced herself to take a deep, steadying breath instead—because she needed all her wits about her if she wanted to challenge him on an equal footing. And why tell him something he already knew but didn’t particularly care about?
‘Do you want me to have the papers served on you, Alexei? Because you’re going the right way about it!’
He gave another low laugh of pleasure as he heard the fury in her voice. How could he have forgotten how stimulating resistance could be? He might have a whole list of complaints about the woman he had been misguided enough to marry—but boredom had never featured on it. ‘You’d have to find me first,’ he challenged.
‘Oh, that’s possible—believe me. My lawyer can engage someone in Athens to track you down and serve you with divorce papers. This kind of thing happens all the time, you know—errant husbands refusing to face up to their responsibilities!’ And suddenly she stopped, aware that she had said too much.
Alexei drew in a silent and thoughtful breath. It sounded as if she had done her research. And it sounded as if she wanted money. His eyes narrowed. How much of a claim on his fortune was she intending to make? he wondered. He ran a speculative finger over the shadowed rasp of his jaw, which had sprung up despite an early-morning shave grabbed on the run from the brunette, who seemed to have discovered the principle of non-stop pleasure and was eager to put it to the test.
He stared out to sea, where he could see a ship moving slowly along the blue horizon—a Christou ship. It was just one of a mighty fleet of vessels which were renowned the world over and owned exclusively by the Christou family—with Alexei as its figurehead. Shipping brought untold wealth, and Christou dominated the market.
Could he be bothered even to fight this divorce? Alexei stretched his arms above his head and yawned. Even a weighty claim by most people’s standards wouldn’t even make a dent in the Christou billions. Shouldn’t he just sign Victoria her cheque and wave goodbye?
But his heart began to thud rhythmically in his chest.
Damn it, yes! He would fight her—as she deserved to be fought—for she had hurt and betrayed him. She had let him down, and that had been a hard lesson for a man like him to learn. He had held her in the kind of regard and esteem that he had felt for no other woman, and what had she done but hurl it all back in his face?
And in a way hadn’t he been expecting this for a long time? His estranged wife had surprised him by not demanding a slice of his fabulous wealth within months of the marriage ending. And then months had become years. It had become a stand-off, and he’d known that one of them would have to break it—but he had also known that it would never be him, for his fierce pride would not allow it. It had been a long, long wait, but it seemed that the time was here at last. And he meant to enjoy every second of it.
‘Even if you manage to serve me with papers,’ he said softly, ‘it doesn’t mean that I’ll co-operate with you.’
Victoria bit her lip. This was the worst-case scenario her lawyer had warned her about. He could play tricks with her and eke it out, and although she would win in the end it could take months, even years. In the meantime her debts would be mounting, with interest accruing—and with a business as small as Victoria’s just one large, unpaid bill could be enough to throw the whole thing out of kilter.
But it was more than the money she now owed as a consequence of that. Much worse was the knock-on effect on the woman who worked for her and relied on her. She knew Caroline’s circumstances and they weren’t easy. She had worked her socks off and shown Victoria nothing but loyalty—and Victoria was not prepared to jeopordise that dear woman’s livelihood on the say-so of her arrogant ex.
‘So you want a fight, Alexei, do you?’
‘Fighting is in my blood,’ he murmured. ‘You know that, Victoria.’
But he had never fought to keep her, had he? He had given up on her at the earliest opportunity—willing to believe the very worst of her. And a battle was the last thing she wanted or needed with a man who still had the ability to make her heart race—though today that was surely more through anger and frustration than instant turn-on?
Victoria looped a lock of hair behind her ear. Just take emotion out of the equation, she urged herself. Talk to him as if he’s a client just about to choose the menu for the tennis club’s annual dinner. Don’t let him realise he’s getting to you. ‘Is there nothing which will make you change your mind and reach a peaceful solution?’ she asked calmly.
Despite the suddenly reasonable tone she had adopted—Alexei recognised that this was the key question—and that with it she had just handed him the baton of power. A small smile curved his lips as he enjoyed the familiar feeling of being in control. And what better feeling could there be other than orgasm itself? But control lasted much longer …
Staring out at the azure sky, he anticipated the simple fish he would eat for lunch beneath a flower-decked canopy in a hidden green oasis of the city. Perhaps afterwards he would take one of his yachts out. Have a massuese on board, and maybe the brunette, too. He yawned. If he still had a hunger for her.
‘Perhaps there is,’ he said silkily, and he paused deliberately, because he knew that silence on the telephone could sound like an eternity to an adversary. ‘Why not come out here and we’ll discuss it?’
Victoria stilled, every instinct in her body shrieking its alarm as she listened to his suggestion in disbelief. ‘To … to Athens, you mean?’
‘Why not?’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous, Alexei!’
‘You think it such a bizarre suggestion?’ he mused. ‘Yet it is where I live and where you once lived—the place you once called your home, though we both know what a myth that was. For your life here was as much of a sham as your supposed desire to be a good wife. Is that why you cannot face Greece again, Victoria?’
She could think of plenty of reasons—but Alexei was the main one. The last time she had seen him he had told her that he would sooner go to hell than ever set eyes on her again. So what had changed? Instinctively Victoria licked at lips which had grown dry. Nothing had changed—for weren’t the insults still flowing thick and fast? He hated her—and he was making that very plain.
‘I can’t see the point,’ she whispered.
‘Can’t you? Maybe I might be a little more … considerate if you came and asked me to my face for a divorce.’
‘Ask you?’ she echoed, but her heart had now started thumping nervously in her chest. ‘You think I need to ask your permission? That I need your consent? We aren’t living in the Dark Ages!’
But in a way Alexei was—and he always had been—it was just that Victoria had been too young to see it at the time. For all his modern American education, beneath the exquisite Italian suits and handmade shoes there beat the heart of a primitive man.
‘This
