world steadied again.
Mercifully Tabby registered that she was no longer falling but that pain was biting all the way from her hip down her leg...no, not her leg, her ankle. She adjusted as Acheron swept her up into his arms with too much enthusiasm and her leg swung none too gently and she couldn’t bite back the cry of pain that was wrenched from her throat. ‘My ankle...’
‘Thee mou...you could’ve been killed falling on these stairs!’ Acheron breathed with a rawness that took her aback, striding back down into the hall with his arms tautly linked round her slight body. He called out in Greek until one of his security staff came running and then he rapped out instructions.
Against her cheek she could feel the still-accelerated pounding of his heart and she wasn’t surprised that he was still high on adrenalin because he must have moved faster than the speed of light to intercept her fall. She felt quite queasy at the realisation that but for his timely intervention she might have fallen all the way down the marble staircase and broken her neck or at the very least a limb or two. Relief that she had only wrenched her ankle and bruised herself filtered slowly through her. ‘I’m OK... Lucky you caught me in time.’
Acheron laid her down with exaggerated care on a sofa and squatted athletically down to her level. ‘Did you feel anyone push you?’ he asked, brilliant dark heavily fringed eyes locked to her face.
She was astounded at the tenor of that question; her violet eyes rounded. ‘Why would anyone push me down the stairs?’ she asked weakly. ‘I lost my balance and tripped.’
Acheron frowned. ‘Are you certain? I thought I saw someone pass by you on the landing just before you fell.’
‘I didn’t see or hear anyone.’ Her brows pleated and her lashes screened her eyes, the heat of embarrassment washing away her pallor because she knew exactly why she had tripped but wild horses wouldn’t have dragged the confession from her. ‘Yes, of course I’m certain.’
If she hadn’t been so busy admiring Acheron and trying to pose like a silly teenager to look her very best for his benefit, she would never have missed her step, Tabby was reflecting in deep, squirming chagrin.
‘I’m afraid I have to move you again...I’ll try not to hurt you,’ Acheron told her, sliding his hands beneath her prone length. ‘But I have to get you into a car to get you to a doctor.’
‘For goodness’ sake, I don’t need a doctor!’ Tabby exclaimed in growing embarrassment.
But over the next couple of hours while she was subjected to every possible medical examination at the nearest hospital, she might as well have been talking to a wall because Acheron refused to listen to a word she said. Furthermore, far from behaving like the cool, reserved male she was accustomed to dealing with, Acheron was clearly all wound up although why he was, she had no idea. He paced the floor outside her examination cubicle, talked to her through the curtain to check she was all right and not in too much discomfort, insisted on an X-ray being done while virtually ignoring the doctor who assured him that she was suffering from nothing more serious than some nasty bruising and a sprained ankle. Even more embarrassing, his security team spread out round them on full systems alert as if awaiting an imminent rocket attack on the casualty department.
‘Ah...very much the adoring and anxious husband,’ the middle-aged doctor chuckled in his ignorance.
If only the man knew how wrong he was, Tabby thought unhappily, feeling like a wretched nuisance and a malingerer taking up valuable medical attention when really there was nothing very much amiss with her.
* * *
If Tabby had died, it would have been his fault. Acheron brooded on that thought darkly, rage and guilt slivering through him in sickening waves and like nothing he had ever felt before. But then he had never been responsible for another life before and, though he would have liked to have thought otherwise, he believed that his wife was very much his responsibility. Naturally he was appalled by the suspicion that someone who worked for him might have attempted to hurt his wife. Having seen the rude message left on her bedroom mirror, he was unimpressed by her conviction that she had simply had an accident. In the split second it had taken for Tabby to lose her balance and topple she might not even have noticed that someone had lightly pushed her or tripped her up.
He was even more frustrated that his security staff had failed to come up with anything suspicious on any member of the villa staff. Acheron’s mouth twisted. Unfortunately the Tuscan villa had rarely been used, hence the renovation the previous year and the hire of employees who were a new and unknown quantity and whose dependability would only be confirmed by the test of time. His lustrous eyes hardened and his stubborn mouth compressed into a tough line of determination. Tabby’s safety was paramount and as he was very reluctant to frighten her with his suspicions. The wisest strategy would be to immediately vacate the villa and seek a more secure setting. That decision reached, Acheron gave the order, refusing to back down even when the chief of his security pointed out that such a move would entail rousing the baby from her bed as well. Regardless of the drawbacks of his plan, Acheron could hardly wait to get Tabby and the baby away from the Tuscan villa, which now, to his way of thinking, seemed a tainted place. He watched the doctor bandaging her swollen ankle, annoyance still gripping him that he had failed to prevent her from getting hurt.
‘Sorry about all this.’ Tabby sighed in the limo as they left the hospital.
‘When you have an accident you don’t need to apologise for it. How are you?’ Acheron pressed.
‘A bit battered and sore—nothing I won’t quickly recover from,’ Tabby responded with a smile. ‘It’ll certainly teach me to be more careful on stairs from now on.’
Acheron was quietly stunned. No woman of his acquaintance would have neglected to make a huge fuss over such an incident by exaggerating their injuries and demanding his sympathy and attention. Tabby, however, characteristically downplayed the episode and asked nothing of him, an acknowledgement that only increased his brooding discomfiture with the situation.
‘Where on earth are we going?’ Tabby enquired as he lifted her out of the limo and stowed her in the wheelchair already waiting for her use. ‘Is this the airport?’
‘Yes, we’re flying to Sardinia,’ Acheron said casually.
‘Seriously? I mean, like right now?’ Tabby stressed in disbelief. ‘It’s ten o’clock at night.’
‘Amber and her nanny are already on board the helicopter, as is your luggage,’ Acheron admitted.
There were many things Tabby could have said but she was fighting a dropped jaw and had already learned to think twice before she spoke her mind around Acheron. She clamped her lips firmly together and assumed that he was bored at the villa and that the evident appeal of a change of surroundings had persuaded him to act on impulse. Not only was he dragging Amber out of bed, but he was also forcing Tabby to travel when she was exhausted and in pain. Her lush mouth down-curved: he was being selfishly inconsiderate but she supposed that was normal behaviour for a male accustomed to thinking only of his own needs.
The helicopter was very noisy and Tabby, who hadn’t eaten since lunchtime, was almost sick with hunger. She insisted on taking Amber from Melinda, though, and soothed the overtired baby herself. She was surprised when Acheron eased the drowsing child from her arms and settled her on his lap instead. Amber looked up at him, stuck her thumb back in her mouth and closed her eyes again, seemingly content with the exchange. Tabby must’ve dozed off at that point because she wakened confused by the bright light on her face and the jabs of pain from her ankle as Acheron
