Xan’s eldest sister, Hana, and her family to the village church. A former monastery, the large church sat at the heart of a very picturesque little village overlooking the harbour. The pews were packed, even though Hana had said that Delphina had wanted a very small wedding attended only by relatives. Elvi’s attention was fully engaged taking in the wonderful painted ceiling and icons that made the candlelit church interior so colourful and warm. And then beside her, Hana said something abrupt in Greek and turned her head to look at the woman smilingly taking what appeared to be the last available seat in the row in front of them.
Hana’s husband put his finger to his lips to silence the speech that was visibly brimming on his wife’s lips as her dark eyes hardened with annoyance.
It wasn’t the time or the place to ask who the woman was. She was certainly eye-catching, Elvi conceded admiringly, and evidently not bound by the tradition that suggested that only brides should wear white at a wedding. The brunette in the shimmering white dress was very tall, very slim and graceful and she had the face of an angel with big dark eyes, flawless features and a sultry pink mouth.
Elvi watched a sort of selective shimmy take place amongst the guests, heads turning as much as they dared, all eyes skimming in the direction of the late arrival, a low buzz of comment following. Clearly, whoever the woman was, her attendance was unexpected and food for a good gossip.
Xan dealt with the sudden appearance of the only woman who had ever broken his heart without batting a single eyelash. His first reaction was irritation, because even though Angie would have received an invite, being the bridegroom’s cousin, she should have stayed away because Xan’s family universally loathed her. His second reaction was that, although he despised her, she had worn well in their years apart.
When he received a lingering look of invitation from her, his inventive brain projected an image he very much liked. Two birds...one stone. Revenge and the freedom to move on in one perfect little package, he decided with ice-cold logic. Sometimes doing the right thing could mean doing it by nefarious means. It would be the wisest move he had ever made and would certainly kill at source his family’s ridiculous conviction that he was ready to settle down.
‘I’M SO SORRY about Angie showing up,’ Delphina said, as though it were her fault that Xan’s ex-girlfriend had decided to attend her wedding. ‘Takis’s mother insisted that it was only courtesy to send her an invitation but nobody expected her to actually come.’
‘Why are you worrying about it?’ Elvi asked gently. ‘I’m not one bit bothered.’
It was a complete lie but Elvi had already heard enough about Angie Sarantos from Xan’s worried family to last her a lifetime, and Delphina’s embarrassment made her feel guilty because every bride had the right to enjoy her wedding day free of all such concerns.
Apparently, Xan had met Angie when he was twenty-one and had asked her to marry him. Angie, however, had ditched him once it became clear that the Ziakis family was in serious debt following the death of Xan’s father. Within months she had married another man and moved to Switzerland to live and she was now a childless widow. Ariadne, Xan’s adoring mother, was convinced that Angie was broke and on the prowl for a wealthy second husband. But Xan was no fool, Elvi reflected wryly. She just couldn’t see him falling for the charms of an obvious gold-digger.
But if that was true, what was he playing at? He had not neglected Elvi in any way. He had sat beside her throughout the wedding breakfast staged back at the villa and had made very polite conversation, much as though they were chance-met strangers, rather than lovers. But once they were freed from their table and able to mingle, Xan had continually drifted in Angie’s direction, pausing to chat with the other woman at every opportunity, laughing and joking with her as if she were his long-lost best friend. Old friends catching up and able to relive fond memories now that their parting was well behind them?
Maybe so, but Elvi had also noticed the cool distance of Xan’s altered attitude towards herself and, whatever else that change denoted, she was convinced that he had decided that they were over. Why else would he behave in such a way? Besides, Angie Sarantos was absolutely stunning and Elvi knew she couldn’t hold a candle to her.
How any man could travel so fast from wanting her passionately only hours earlier to flirting madly with his ex, she had no idea. But then she wasn’t a transitory sort of person, was she? What she did feel, she felt deeply and the sentiment stayed with her. Xan, however, had only felt lust for her, nothing profound or more lasting.
Bearing those realities in mind, why did she currently feel as if she had been punched in the stomach? Why was she in shock? Why was she hurt? Where had those responses come from? In truth she hurt as much as if Xan had taken a hammer to her heart and smashed it to pieces and she hated herself for that anguished sense of rejection and disillusionment, when instead she knew she should’ve been celebrating the prospect of returning to her own life, the life he had so ruthlessly yanked her out of.
Clearly, beneath the surface show of her hostility, she had contrived to become more emotionally attached to Xan than she had been prepared to acknowledge. That shamed her and put her on her mettle to appear untouched by the little drama of the flirtation that every other wedding guest appeared to find a source of fascination. You couldn’t fall in love with anyone that quickly, she reasoned angrily with herself; it just wasn’t possible. Possibly her pride was hurt, that foolish part of her that had unwisely revelled in Xan’s seemingly overwhelming desire for her ordinary self. Pride cometh before a fall, she reminded herself studiously, trying to keep a smile pinned to her lips, struggling to stop her gaze tracking Xan or Angie round the room.
For that reason, it was a surprise when Xan appeared at her side and suggested they dance. Elvi gave him a pained glance and shook her head. ‘No, thanks,’ she said quietly.
She was pale, her eyes shadowed and for a split second Xan’s resolve almost faltered, but the growing conviction that he was finally doing what he should’ve done some days earlier held him fast. He had to let her go: nothing else was acceptable and dragging out the process would be unnecessarily cruel.
‘Go off and enjoy yourself... I’m quite tired,’ Elvi insisted, not wanting his company if he was only putting on a show for the sake of appearances.
‘If you’re sure...’ Xan straightened back to his full height, avoiding a meaningful look from his brother, the priest, that warned him that Lukas was in the mood to preach. Aware of his family’s censorious appraisals, Xan decided it was time for a break to take care of some work and when the event was at an end he would speak to Elvi about her departure.
Alone again, Elvi walked outside onto the terrace and sat down, ostensibly to take in the panoramic view of the island and the sea. But she couldn’t see anything but Xan inside her head, sleek, darkly beautiful Xan with his dazzling eyes laughing with her, smiling with her, filling her with feelings that felt so natural to her that she had not even realised that she was falling for him.
Angie Sarantos strolled out with a champagne goblet cradled nonchalantly in one slender hand. ‘He’s bored with you,’ she murmured softly.
Elvi clenched her teeth hard. ‘Are you speaking to me?’
‘I imagine you hate my guts,’ Angie remarked. ‘But Xan and I have something special. I didn’t know how special it was until I lost it. Point is, I made a mistake nine years ago and I know it.’
Elvi was reluctant to engage with the brunette in any
