Greek's Pride. Helen Bianchin
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They were pictures of Antonia laughing, beautiful and lissom with flowing blonde hair and a stunning smile.
‘What about you, Alyse?’ Aleksi asked quietly. ‘Were all the snaps taken only of Antonia?’
‘No. No, of course not,’ she answered quickly. ‘There didn’t seem much point in bringing the others with me.’
His gaze was startlingly direct. ‘Why not?’ Humour tugged the edges of his mouth. ‘I would have enjoyed seeing you as a child.’
‘Perhaps I should insist that you drag out shots depicting your pubescent youth,’ Alyse said sweetly, and heard Alexandros’s deep laugh.
‘He was all bones, so tall, and very intense. An exceptional student.’
‘Yes, I’m sure he was,’ Alyse agreed with a faint smile.
‘At nineteen he filled out,’ Rachel informed her, shooting Aleksi a faintly wicked grin, ‘developing splendid muscles, a deep voice, and a certain attraction for the opposite sex. Girls utilised every excuse under the sun to practise their own blossoming feminine wiles on him.’
‘With great success, I’m sure,’ Alyse remarked drily, and heard his husky laugh.
‘I managed to keep one step ahead of each of them.’
‘Shattering dreams and breaking hearts, no doubt?’ The words were lightly voiced and faintly bantering, but his eyes stilled for a second, then assumed a brooding mockery.
‘What about your dreams, Alyse?’ he countered, silently forcing her to hold his gaze.
She swallowed the lump that had somehow risen in her throat, aware that their amusing conversational gambit had undergone a subtle change. ‘I was no different from other teenage girls,’ she said quietly. ‘Except that my vision was centred on a successful career.’
‘In which young men didn’t feature at all?’
How could she say that Antonia was a carefree spirit who unwittingly attracted men without the slightest effort, while Alyse was merely the older sister, a shadowy blueprint content to shoulder responsibility? Yet there had never been any feelings of resentment or jealousy, simply an acceptance of individual personalities.
‘I enjoyed a social life,’ she defended. ‘Tennis, squash, sailing at weekends, and there was the cinema, theatre, dancing.’ Her chin lifted fractionally as she summoned a brilliant smile. ‘Now I have a wealthy husband who owns a beautiful home, and an adored adopted son.’ Her eyes glittered, sheer sapphire. ‘Most women would rate that as being the culmination of all their dreams.’
Aleksi’s soft laugh was almost her undoing, and it was only his parents’ presence that prevented her from launching into a lashing castigation.
‘Shall I make afternoon tea?’ It was amazing that her voice sounded so calm, and she deliberately schooled her expression into a polite mask as she rose to her feet.
In the kitchen she filled the percolator with water, selected a fresh filter, spooned in ground coffee and set it on the element. Her hands seemed to move of their own accord, opening cupboards, setting cups on to saucers, extracting sugar, milk and cream, then setting a cake she’d made that morning on to a plate ready to take into the lounge.
When the coffee was ready, she put everything on to a mobile trolley and wheeled it into the lounge, dispensing everything with an outward serenity that would, had she been an actress, have earned plaudits from her peers.
Conversation, as if by tacit agreement, touched on a variety of subjects but centred on none, and it was almost four o’clock when Aleksi rose to his feet with the expressed intention of driving Rachel and Alexandros into town.
‘I’m looking forward to this evening, my dear,’ Rachel declared as she slid into the rear seat of the car, and Alyse gave her a smile that was genuinely warm.
‘So am I,’ she assured her, then stood back as Aleksi reversed the BMW down the driveway.
Indoors, she quickly restored the lounge to order and then dispensed cups and saucers into the dishwasher before crossing to the bedroom for a quick shower. Georg would wake in an hour, and she’d prefer to settle him down for the night rather than leave him to the babysitter.
Selecting something suitable to wear was relatively simple, and she chose an elegant two-piece suit in brilliant red silk, opted against wearing a blouse, and decided on high-heeled black suede shoes and matching clutch-purse. Make-up was understated, with skilful attention to her eyes, then she blowdried her hair and slipped on a silk robe, confident that within five minutes of settling Georg she could be ready.
The sound of the front door closing alerted her attention, and seconds later Aleksi entered the room.
‘The babysitter will be here at six,’ he told her as he shed his jacket and tossed it on to the bed. ‘We’ll collect my parents at six-thirty, and our table is booked for an hour later.’
Alyse merely nodded as his fingers slid to the buttons on his shirt, and he paused, his eyes narrowing on her averted gaze.
‘Is there some problem with that?’
‘None at all,’ she said stiffly.
‘Don’t indulge in a fit of the sulks,’ Aleksi cautioned, and she rounded on him at once with all the pent-up fury she’d harboured over the past hour.
‘I am not sulking!’ she snapped angrily. ‘I just don’t care to be figuratively dissected, piece by piece, in the presence of your parents, simply as a means of amusement!’
One eyebrow arched, and his mouth assumed its customary cynicism. ‘What, precisely, are you referring to?’
‘I didn’t sit at home while Antonia went out and had all the fun,’ she told him, holding his gaze without any difficulty at all.
‘But you assumed responsibility for her welfare, did you not?’ Aleksi queried with deceptive mildness. ‘And, as the eldest, shouldered burdens which had your parents been alive would have given you more freedom?’
‘If you’re suggesting I assumed the role of surrogate parent, you couldn’t be more wrong!’
He stood regarding her in silence for what seemed an age. ‘Then tell me what you did out of work hours, aside from keep house?’
Her eyes became stormy. ‘I don’t owe you any explanations.’
‘Then why become defensive when I suggested you took the elder sister role so seriously?’
‘Because you implied a denial of any social existence, which isn’t true.’
‘So you went out on dates, enjoyed the company of men?’
The desire to shock was paramount. ‘Yes,’ she said shortly, knowing it to be an extension of the truth. Her chin tilted slightly, and her eyes assumed a dangerous sparkle. ‘What comes