know that I don’t want to do it,’ she said. ‘And I’m asking you to reconsider.’
‘Ochi. Can’t be done. You will do what I want you to do.’
‘You’re a ruthless man, Xenon Kanellis.’
‘Insult me all you like,’ he said. ‘But my heart will not be swayed by your pleas.’
‘You have no heart!’
‘Then waste no more of my time with your futile protestations. Give me your answer, Lex—is it yes or no?’
There was a pause while she tried to fight it, but she realised she had no choice. ‘Yes,’ she breathed reluctantly.
‘Good.’
She heard the unmistakeable triumph in his voice. She could imagine him sitting in the chair at his desk, swivelling it around so that he could gaze out at the London skyline. And she could have screamed.
‘We need to discuss practicalities,’ he was saying.
‘I agree.’ She drew in a deep breath because this bit was much better done on the phone, away from the calculating gleam of his eyes. ‘So let’s kick off by saying that this is not going to be a real marriage in any sense of the word. Let’s call it a masquerade, shall we? The mask I’ll wear in public won’t come off in private. Do you understand?’
‘I think it’s a consideration which can be discussed at a future date,’ he answered smoothly. ‘When can you be here? Tomorrow?’
‘Are you out of your mind?’ Lexi gripped the telephone. ‘I can’t just pack up and go! There are things I need to take care of. It may surprise you to know that I have a life here.’
There was a pause. ‘Or a man? An eager lover you can’t bear to leave behind?’
Lexi almost laughed at how far he was from the truth. How she would have loved to tell him that, yes, there was a man. Someone who thrilled her whenever he touched her, as Xenon had always thrilled her. But there had been no one else. Sometimes she doubted that there ever would be. ‘I’m sure that your spies must have reported back to you that currently there’s no man.’
‘Currently?’ he echoed.
‘None of your damned business. One of the perks of being separated is that it means you’re free to start dating.’
She heard what sounded like Xenon trying to control his angry breathing and she gave a small smile of satisfaction.
‘Don’t push me too hard,’ he growled. ‘What do you need to take care of?’
‘Well, there’s my goldfish, for a start. There’s also my jewellery business. I may work for myself but I still have some commissions which I need to finish. When is...?’ The lump which had suddenly risen out of nowhere now lodged itself deep in her throat. ‘When is the christening?’
‘Next week. I’ll send my car for you on Friday and we’ll fly out on Saturday. Make sure you’re ready at noon,’ he said, and cut the connection.
Lexi was left clutching the phone, her hand shaking with rage. He was so authoritative. So used to getting what he wanted. He hadn’t even given her a chance to tell him that she would drive herself up to London. Or should she just let herself be whisked away in his fancy, chauffeur-driven car—no doubt in a demonstration of how easily he could flex his power?
She drew in a deep breath, knowing that she shouldn’t sweat the small stuff. She was doing this for Jason—and all she had to do was to get through it.
She spent the rest of the week finishing up her commissions and thinking about whether she should make something for Kyra’s baby. It would make sense and at least it would guarantee that her gift would be unique.
Her career as a jeweller was building slowly, but surely—though at the moment it was confined mainly to locals, with the occasional holidaymaker. Learning how to make silver jewellery had been one of the best decisions she’d ever made. She’d liked the combination of the practical and the artistic and it still thrilled her every time someone liked one of her designs enough to buy one.
Just last week an old man had ordered a chunky brooch for his wife, to celebrate fifty years of marriage. He obviously enjoyed chatting and started telling Lexi all about his long-ago wedding day. She had felt herself getting emotional as his rheumy old eyes welled up with tears and she thought it made her own marital record of two years seem like a mockery.
Picking up a lump of silver, she thought again about the new baby and, although she always steered clear of designing for infants on the grounds that it was too painful, she set to work. Because she had adored Xenon’s little sister and she had felt almost guilty that the breakdown of her marriage meant that communication with her had been severed. Somehow this handmade gift for Kyra’s firstborn seemed important, and significant. She worked long into the night and most of the next day too, until she had fashioned the small silver charm to her satisfaction.
On Friday, she had only just closed up her workshop and finished packing when Xenon’s car arrived. Lexi tried not to be intimidated by the female driver who jumped out of the luxury limousine to open the door for her, but it wasn’t easy. The wafer-thin woman who introduced herself as Charlotte certainly made her fitted uniform look sexy. Lexi started wondering if there was anything going on between her and Xenon, until she remembered his strict rule about fraternising with the staff. He’d told her it was an important lesson his father had taught him: that you should never sleep with someone you might one day have to sack.
She pushed the thought away, troubled by how much it bothered her. Because it shouldn’t bother her. Xenon could sleep with who he liked. They were separated. They were getting a divorce.
She spent the journey watching as countryside morphed into city and her stomach contracted with apprehension as the car drew up outside the gleaming monolithic tower of the Kanellis headquarters.
She gazed up at the plate-glass-and-steel building, reluctantly remembering the last time she had been here. It had been at some company ‘do’ when the cracks were already beginning to appear in their marriage.
Xenon had been tired and fractious. He’d been working away—again—and had come to the party straight from the airport. He had eyed the close-fitting cocktail dress she’d been wearing with the expression of a hungry lion being offered a piece of raw meat and had then proceeded to accuse her of flirting with another man. As if. He didn’t seem to get that no other man existed for her. She remembered him being angry in the car afterwards and then she’d been angry right back, complaining that he always made her feel like some sort of object or possession. The simmering silence in which they’d sat had grown ever-more resentful, but that hadn’t stopped him from practically ripping off her dress the moment they’d arrived home. Or her doing the same with his trousers...
Her breath already dry in her throat, Lexi reached down for her suitcase, but Charlotte must have been watching from the driver’s mirror.
‘Don’t worry about that, Mrs Kanellis. I’ll take care of your case,’ she said.
Lexi wondered if it was worth going to the trouble of explaining that she no longer used her married name, but decided not to bother. ‘Thanks very much.’ She gave the young woman a warm smile. ‘You’re a great driver.’
