Sabrina Philips – Greek Tycoon, Wayward Wife (страница 2)

The woman exhaled through her teeth, wearily lifted the receiver of her phone and tapped a button with one perfectly manicured talon. ‘Electra, darling, so sorry to disturb you. I have a woman here who insists that we notify Mr Delikaris that she is in Reception. Mmm. Yes, another one. She seems to think if he knows she’s here he’ll agree to see her.’

She turned back to Libby. ‘Your name, please?’

Libby took a deep breath. ‘My name is Libby Delikaris,’ she replied. ‘I’m his wife.’

The office was silent.

‘I’m afraid there’s no alternative solution as far as I can see,’ Stephanos answered. ‘You can continue to spend as much time in Metameikos as possible; support local businesses, attend local events and keep trying to get the Mayor on side, but I don’t think anything but getting married is going to truly convince people you plan to settle down there.’

Rion grimaced. ‘I repeat. Marriage is out of the question.’

Stephanos was surprised that the man who’d sworn he would stop at nothing to win this election wouldn’t even consider his suggestion, but decided it would be wise to drop it. ‘Oh, well, even that would have been no guarantee. Without a long-term girlfriend it might have looked a little too much like a publicity stunt—especially so close to the election.’

The intercom on the desk behind Rion suddenly burst into life.

He swooped across to it, his voice curt. ‘Yes?’

‘I’m very sorry to interrupt you, Mr Delikaris, but there’s a woman in Reception who is demanding we inform you that she’s here.’

‘Who is it?’

There was a loaded pause. ‘She says her name is Libby Delikaris and that…she’s your wife.’

Rion didn’t move—couldn’t. The instantaneous flood of pleasure that ran over him was so profound it rendered him motionless.

At last she had returned. At last she deemed him worthy enough.

It was the moment he’d been waiting for—far, far too long. Not because he gave a damn about her opinion any longer, he qualified quickly. But because now, finally, he could take his revenge.

He straightened victoriously. As he did, he caught sight of his team out of the corner of his eye, and suddenly the fortuity of her timing struck him. She had chosen to come crawling back now, just when he needed to convince the world he was all about good old-fashioned Greek values. His eyes glittered, and his mouth curved into a sardonic smile. How convenient.

He pressed the button on the intercom and replied with perfect composure, ‘Thank you. Send her up.’

Rion sensed every eye in the room widen. It was understandable; he’d never mentioned her. But then he never spoke about failed ventures or the past. Since she fell into both categories, he did his best not to even think about her. Sometimes he even succeeded.

‘Apologies, gentlemen. I’m afraid we will need to continue this meeting at another time.’

The men cleared the room without another word. Only Stephanos lingered.

‘You know, an alternative way of convincing people you are the settling kind has just this minute occurred to me,’ he said wryly, looking Rion straight in the eye and walking backwards towards the door. ‘Nothing melts hearts like a reunion story.’

Libby hadn’t used his surname for five years; hadn’t called herself his wife for just as long. If the look of shock on the receptionist’s face was anything to go by, Rion hadn’t mentioned her existence either. Yet it seemed his instruction to send her up immediately was proof enough that she was telling the truth, for within seconds the receptionist had become politeness personified—even explaining in detail how Libby could get to his office on the top floor via the stairs when she mentioned she’d rather not use the lift.

As she ascended the stairs, Libby ignored the doubts churning in her stomach and told herself to get a grip. What they’d had once was already lost, the emotional side of it dealt with long ago. This was just a formality, bound to be nothing more than a slightly awkward but amicable exchange between two people who were virtual strangers to one another now, she tried to convince herself. Maybe when it was over she’d even feel the complete sense of freedom she’d always been searching for but had never quite found. She clung to that thought as she arrived on the top floor, passed through a landing area, and then proceeded along a corridor to knock on a large mahogany door emblazoned with his name.

‘Come in.’

Yes, in theory the emotional side should have been dealt with long ago, but the instant she saw him Libby knew that she had been seriously mistaken.

Of course she was well aware that Orion Delikaris was the most desirable man on the planet. She hadn’t expected that to have changed. But she had expected that age and wealth would have altered him at least fractionally. Instead, to her horror, save for the fact that his suit now looked ludicrously expensive, everything was exactly as she remembered. His strong, proud jaw, his resplendent dark hair, those liquid brown eyes that had fuelled her teenage fantasies and shaped her adult ones. Which had gazed right back at her on their wedding day, their wedding night.

She blinked, blocking out the memories, blocking out the urge to run again—away from feelings she shouldn’t be feeling any more. ‘Hello, Rion,’ she managed, somehow.

Rion ran his eyes over her, frustrated to find that the action induced the most powerful kick of arousal he’d felt in years. But he knew it was only because his body still saw her as the woman who’d rejected him, was just responding the way it did to any challenge. The second she started begging him to take her back his desire would evaporate. And yet it annoyed him that she should still get to him that way—especially when she looked so…different. The thick blond hair which had once hung in a silken curtain down her back was gone, now cut short in the kind of style he usually considered unfeminine, but which somehow made her features look even more delicate. Her petite, pale figure, which had once driven him to distraction, had also disappeared, but in its place was an even more enticing mass of toned, sensual curves tanned to a beguiling shade of golden-brown.

He gritted his teeth. Which suggested she spent her life on holiday. That would be about right: Caribbean beaches and designer shops, no doubt funded by her parents. Though somehow that image didn’t seem to fit with the clothes she was dressed in. Perhaps Ashworth Motors had fallen on hard times. A perverse part of him hoped that it had. It would make telling her no—after she’d been of use to him, of course—all the sweeter.

‘So tell me,’ he said, unable to fathom her delay if that was the case, ‘what took you so long?’

Libby was taken aback by his question, by his implacable expression that bordered on hostile, but she told herself it was understandable. She, for all the good it had done her, had at least been able to prepare herself mentally for seeing him again. He’d had no such luxury.

‘I took the stairs,’ she answered, looking up at the clock on the wall and noting that she’d only been five minutes. She was about to shoot out You know I don’t do lifts, but then she remembered that he didn’t know, that he’d really known so little about her, and she about him.

And they knew even less about each other now, which was why not doing this was ludicrous. ‘I apologise if this isn’t a good time.’

He gave a wry smile. ‘On the contrary, now is the perfect time—but that wasn’t what I meant. I’ve been expecting you for years, Liberty.’

Libby wanted to correct him, to tell him she never let anyone call her that any more, but the revelation that he’d been expecting her, that he obviously agreed this was the right thing to be doing, was so welcome that she let it pass.

‘You mean you have been trying to contact me? I’m sorry. I did wonder if you had, but I’ve been overseas almost permanently. Bank statements from three years ago are only just starting to catch up with me.’

‘If I had wanted to find you I would not have failed.’

But he hadn’t wanted to find her. What would have been the sense, when he’d always known she would come crawling back once he’d made it, that he would have his chance to turn the tables—make the humiliation hers instead of his? Yes, it had been far too long coming, but he wouldn’t have denied himself this moment for anything—would have waited fifty years if that was what it had taken.

Libby frowned.

‘I rather expected you to come back the first time my name appeared on the International Rich List. Or have you been waiting for me to reach the top ten?’

Her relief evaporated. He thought her coming here had to do with money? She stared back at him in disbelief, and in that instant she realised her initial appraisal had been wrong. He had changed. Grown harder, more cynical. Perhaps she ought to be relieved that he was the stranger to her she’d imagined after all. Instead she just felt sad. ‘I don’t read things like that. I never did.’

He gestured around his enormous office, to the rooftop garden adjacent and the incredible view of the Acropolis, and raised his eyebrow cynically. ‘You mean you weren’t aware that my circumstances have changed?’