LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

Instant concern for Melanie had her moving towards him on legs that were trembling with nervous tension. ‘Someone should have come for me!’ she protested as she peered worriedly at the baby.

      ‘I was here.’ That was all he said, yet it seemed to say it all. For he handled the baby girl as if he had been doing it all her little life. It was, in fact, the talk of the house how good he was with the baby. Claire already knew he spent time with her sister every morning before he left for Athens, and the same in the evening when he got home again.

      Bonding was the modern term for it, and Claire supposed it described what Andreas had been doing since Melanie had arrived in his life.

      ‘What has been the matter with her?’ she asked now.

      He smiled that brief smile—wry, though, not grim. ‘I have been reliably informed by the experienced Lefka that babies do have restless nights.’

      Claire nodded knowingly, her fingertips already stroking Melanie’s cheek without even realising she was doing it. ‘She hardly slept at all after Mother died,’ she confided sadly. ‘You wouldn’t think someone so young could know, but I think she missed her dreadfully.’

      ‘As you do?’

      Her throat thickened at the gentle question. She answered it with another nod. ‘I’ll take her now, if you like,’ she offered. ‘Then you can go and get some rest…’

      But even as she reached out to take the baby from him Andreas caught hold of her fingers.

      The very fact that he was touching her was enough to bring the panic back. Her tension suddenly soared. Yet, though he had to feel it, he grimly ignored it. ‘She is happy with us, Claire,’ he said urgently. ‘You must be able to see that?’

      Which meant what? she wondered. That Melanie had never been happy with only her sister taking care of her?

      As usual, he read her thoughts. ‘No.’ He renounced them. ‘You misunderstand me. You have both been grieving—both of you, Claire. And although I know you may not be prepared to accept this right now you have both been happier in my care!’

      She knew what he was saying. She knew exactly what it was he was getting at. He wanted her to agree to stay without him having to exert undue pressure on her. He wanted her to go on as before as if last night had never happened.

      As if nothing had changed.

      ‘Give this a chance,’ he pleaded huskily. ‘Give me a second chance to make this work for us—if only for Melanie’s sake…’

      For Melanie’s sake. If this organ throbbing thickly in her breast was still a heart, she mused heavily, then she would have that phrase engraved on it.

      I did this—for Melanie’s sake.

      She gave one last nod of her head in mute acquiescence.

      It was enough. He let go of her fingers and silently offered her the baby. Melanie snuffled then settled into her arms. Andreas stood up, looking taller, leaner, darker in his all-white tracksuit. He was about to step around her so that she could sit down when he paused, touched her pale cheek with a gentle finger, and murmured, ‘Thank you.’

      Then he was gone, quickly, beating a hasty retreat now he had what he wanted.

      Which wasn’t Claire, she told herself in dull mockery.

      CHAPTER NINE

      IT WAS a retreat that had in fact taken him right out of the firing line, Claire discovered when she eventually emerged from the sanctuary of the nursery which had turned out to be no sanctuary at all in the end.

      ‘A problem with one of his latest acquisitions,’ she was told. But Claire knew the real problem was her and that he had simply taken himself away so as not to risk anything else going wrong before the wedding.

      But then, she was his latest acquisition, she supposed. So she couldn’t call the excuse a lie exactly.

      The rest of that week slid by quickly. She spent the time sharing herself between Melanie and Andreas’s grandmother, who was determined to make sure her precious grandson’s bride walked down the aisle looking as perfect as she had looked herself all those many years ago.

      She produced a wedding veil of the same heavy lace as the dress, and commanded Claire to put it on then presented her with two delicately worked diamond and gold hair combs which she then instructed her exactly where to position to hold the veil in place. Next day came the diamond necklace and earrings to match the ring Claire already wore on her finger.

      ‘My husband gave me these the night before we married,’ she said sighingly. And Claire didn’t have the heart to protest at being given so many precious things to wear when the old woman’s eyes looked so full of wonderful memories.

      I’ll hand them all back to Andreas straight after the wedding, she consoled her uneasy conscience. At least then I won’t feel like a thief as well as a fraud.

      After those uncomfortable visits she would steal her sister and push her out in the gardens while she tried to re-convince herself that doing this was not so much deceiving a very old lady as trying her best to make her happy in her final days.

      Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, but having no Andreas around to bounce either feeling off meant she had to deal with the conscience-struck days herself.

      So her wedding day arrived, and behind a protective haze of disassociation she went through with it, stepping into the tiny but beautiful candlelit church on the arm of Andreas’s uncle Grigoris to be handed over to a man who had taken back the guise of tall, dark stranger in the days since she’d seen him last.

      All those who had been at the betrothal party were here to watch them marry. Like a puppet responding to each pull on its strings, Claire repeated vows she didn’t mean to a man who didn’t mean them, his voice a dark and husky rumble that vibrated through her system like the growl of a hungry animal who saw her as its next meal.

      Only this particular animal didn’t really want to eat her. So that fanciful impression was just another deception she could add to a growing list of them.

      A slender gold wedding band arrived on her finger. She was kissed—though she completely shut herself off from it. She caught a glimpse of his eyes, though, as he drew away again. They were narrowed and probing the strained whiteness of her face.

      She looked away. That kind of intimate contact was just too much for her right now.

      They arrived back at the house to find that the wedding breakfast was to take place outside on the lawn. But when she went to move in that direction, already armouring herself for the next ordeal of having to face again all those people who, in her mind, had somehow become indelibly linked with the night of her wretched leap into womanhood, Andreas stayed her with the light touch of his fingers on her shoulder.

      Sensation ripped through her like a lightning bolt, straightening her spine and drawing the breath into her lungs on a stricken gasp.

      Why it happened, when she had managed to disregard every other time he had touched her today, she didn’t know.

      But his fingers snapped back, his lean face freezing in what she could only believe was shock. ‘I can accept it is a bride’s right to look pale and interestingly ethereal,’ he rasped out harshly. ‘But do you think you could at least refrain from behaving as a lamb being led to her sacrifice?’

      ‘Sorry,’ she said awkwardly, but it was already too late for the apology.

      He turned away from her, angry, tense. ‘We have another ordeal to contend with before we can go out to greet our guests,’ he then informed her grimly. ‘My grandmother is waiting to meet Melanie.’

      Of course, she thought as mutely she followed him towards the stairs. Melanie was no longer an illegitimate member of this family—which was the real point to all of this after all. So why hadn’t she considered this

Скачать книгу