The Konstantos Marriage Demand (5 page)

‘Thank you.’

She barely noticed the receptionist move away, her attention closely focussed on the piece of paper she held. After the way she had left Nikos upstairs, the brutal harshness of that final ‘nothing’, this was the last thing she had expected. He had been adamant that he was not going to help her, so why…?

Her fingers fumbled with the note as she unfolded it, tension blurring her vision as she tried to focus.

The note had neither greeting nor signature, but it didn’t need one. There was no mistaking Nikos’s dark, slashing scrawl. Just four brief words, dashed off in haste, and the sight of them made Sadie blink hard in bewilderment and confusion.

Be there.

It was a blunt decree, a command that she would be wise to obey—or risk the consequences.

Be there.

And Cambrelli’s. Dear heaven, but the man knew how to stick the knife in. Cambrelli’s was the small Italian restaurant he had taken her to on their very first date.

Rebellion rose hotly in Sadie’s heart. Who the hell was this man that he could issue such an order and expect to have it obeyed? Her fingers tightened on the paper, the impulse to crumple it into a ball and toss it away from her almost overwhelming. She was damned if she…

But even as she lifted her hand to do so, common sense reasserted itself and froze the defiant gesture. What was she thinking of? She knew exactly who this man was.

He was Nikos Konstantos, and he was in the position of having every command he issued obeyed at once, without any hint of a question. He also held all the cards very tightly in his hands.

‘And, knowing me as you do, I am sure that you will recall that once I have made up my mind on a matter then I never change it.’

The words that Nikos had flung at her sounded so clearly inside her head that she almost believed that the man himself had come up behind her and spoken them out loud.

He had sworn that he would not help her and made it plain that every one of her entreaties had fallen on totally stony ground.

And yet…

Her gaze went back to the note in her hand as she smoothed it out and read over once again.

She didn’t know what it meant, but it seemed that Nikos had tossed her some kind of lifeline. It wasn’t much but it was all she had, and she would be a fool not to grab at it while she could.

The receptionist was still hovering close at hand, obviously waiting for an answer. Glancing down at her phone, reading the message from her mother again, Sadie drew in a deep breath and came to a decision.

‘Tell Mr Konstantos that I will meet him as arranged.’

C
AMBRELLI’S RESTAURANT HAD
changed very little in the past five years. It was perhaps a little cleaner and brighter—they had obviously put a fresh coat of paint on the walls—but not much else had altered.

There were the same dark wood tables and chairs, some in small booths with red fake leather banquettes on either side, the same red-and-white checked tablecloths, the same candles stuck into empty wine bottles on each table, with wax dripping down the neck and over the label. She was sure that there were even the same rather worn and faded posters on the walls. One of the Colosseum in Rome and one of St Mark’s Square in Venice. It was like stepping back in time and reliving a small part of her life.

If only she really could do that, Sadie thought as she followed the waiter to one of the booths near the back of the room, well away from the window, she noted. If only she could be arriving here as a rather naive twenty year old, still at university, her head in a whirl of excitement and her feet barely seeming to touch the ground as she headed for a date with the most exciting man she had ever met. Anticipating the most wonderful night she had ever known.

And it had been just that. That night and the days, the
months that had followed had been the happiest, the most glorious times Sadie had ever known. But if it was at all possible, if she really could go back in time, then she would grab hold of her younger self, try to shake some sense into her.

‘Poor stupid little fool,’ she muttered to herself, the bitterness of memory pushing the words from her mouth in spite of the fact that she wasn’t really speaking to anyone.

‘I beg your pardon,
signorina?
’

The waiter had heard her, and paused in his progress across the room to glance at her questioningly.

‘Oh—sorry—nothing…’

She had to get a grip on herself, Sadie thought, managing an embarrassed half-smile. The stress of the day and anxiety about the evening ahead was getting to her and making her control of her tongue slip slightly. She needed to have her thoughts and her feelings totally under control.

But oh, how she wished that someone had taken charge of her younger self. That they had warned her not to trust Nikos, not to believe a word he said. Better that she should have faced the inevitable disillusionment then, before their affair had truly begun, rather than go through the whole terrible process of falling hopelessly and mindlessly in love and then being bitterly disappointed. The appalling sense of loss and betrayal had been all the worse because of the wonder and joy that had gone before.

But of course then she wouldn’t have believed anyone who had tried to convince her that Nikos was not what he seemed. She wouldn’t have listened to a single person—probably not even herself if she had managed to appear to give a warning message. At twenty years old she had been naive, gullible, and totally starry-eyed, and she would have thought that it would be well worth a broken heart at the end if she could only have that night.

She had never expected it to last anyway. She had only ever thought that she would have that one night, one date. At the end of the evening she had fully expected that Nikos would take her home, say goodnight, and that would be that. She had been overjoyed, and unable to quite believe it, when he had asked to see her again—and again.

‘Good evening, Sadie.’

Sadie had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed they had reached the booth. It was already occupied, she realised, as in the shadowy darkness Nikos rose to his full height and faced her across the table.

This was not the man she had confronted in his office earlier that day. This Nikos was not the sleek suited businessman who headed the Konstantos Corporation. Instead he was darkly devastating in a soft black shirt, open at the neck with no tie, and worn black denim jeans that hugged the lean hips, the narrow waist that was emphasised by a heavy leather belt.

And just what was the message he intended her to read into that? Or was she reading too much into it because she had spent so long worrying about what she should wear herself—opting for a pair of smart black trousers with a deep red shirt and loose jacket so that she neither looked as if she had dressed up or down for this meeting? She was too acutely sensitive to the hidden clues in what Nikos had chosen to wear.

‘Won’t you sit down?’

The pointed question brought home to her the fact that she had been standing, still and silent, staring at him as if she had never seen him before in her life while he waited with carefully controlled patience for her response.

‘Thank you.’

It was as she sank into the seat directly opposite him that she recalled how she had once been told that when eating out in a restaurant Greek men usually seated themselves with
their backs to the wall, their guest facing them. That way the host could see everything that was going on, the coming and going in the main body of the restaurant, but their companion’s attention was forced to be concentrated solely on them.

Not that Nikos’s attention seemed to be anywhere else other than on her. Those bronze eyes were fixed on her face in a way that made the tiny hairs at the back of her neck lift in the uncomfortable reaction of a wary cat, faced with a threatening intruder into its space.

‘So you came,’ Nikos commented when the waiter had handed them menus and left them to decide on their meals.

‘Of course I came. As you knew I would have to. I had no other choice. Not unless I wanted to stay at home and pack, as you’d already ordered me to do.’

‘Not ordered. It was the logical next step if things stayed as they were,’ Nikos corrected softly, earning himself a sideways glare that Sadie hoped made it clear that she was not in the least convinced by the apparent conciliatory tone in his voice.

There was no way that he was here to do any peacemaking. Why should he when he held all the cards in his hands—and most of them were aces?

‘And I suppose you are going to claim that you didn’t order me to meet you here?’

‘I merely invited you. So, what would you like to eat?’

Nothing. Sadie felt that she would be unable to swallow a single mouthful. Besides…

‘Did you really invite me out for a meal?’

Nikos glanced up from his study of the menu, one black brow slightly lifted in mocking enquiry.

‘Why else would we be in a restaurant, with menus to choose from?’

Because he wanted to prove that he had so much power over her that he could say jump and she would ask how high.
Because he wanted to emphasise, by choosing this particular restaurant, just how very different things were now from the way they had been in the past, when they had been here together before.

‘And why are we in this particular restaurant? Why here and nowhere else?’

‘Because I know you like it here.’

If she didn’t know better, she might almost believe in the innocence in his eyes, his voice. But she had no doubt that it was more than that. Nikos Konstantos never did anything without considering all possible outcomes and planning for the one that was exactly what he wanted.

‘I liked it once,’ she said coldly, pointedly. ‘My tastes have changed since then.’

‘Mine too,’ Nikos drawled cynically.

So how was she supposed to take that? Was he, like her, thinking of the first meal they had eaten here? She hadn’t known who he was then. Only that she had fallen for the most devastatingly handsome and attractive man she had ever met. If she had known would she have been more careful, more on her guard? Maybe even held back and never agreed to go out with him?

If she had then things would have been so much easier. She would never have become tangled up in Nikos’s schemes—and those of her father. She would never have become a pawn in their hateful feud, never been used by each of them against the other. Because that had been all she was to them. A weapon which they could use to inflict as much damage on the other as possible.

‘I understand that the calamari here is very good—unless you prefer—’

‘What I’d prefer…’ Sadie put in sharply, having foolishly let her eyes wander over the menu so that she spotted the de
licious shrimp dish she had eaten that first time she had been here. She could almost taste it in her mouth, the memory was so clear and devastating. ‘What I’d
prefer
is that you tell me exactly why I’m here and what you want from me.’

‘Some wine first?’ Nikos returned imperturbably, lifting one hand to summon the waiter.

The response was immediate, as of course it always was with Nikos. He only had to make the slightest gesture, look as if he might need something, and there was always someone there, right at hand, ready to provide whatever he needed.

But the presence of the waiter and his enquiring glance in her direction, the way he brandished his notepad and pen, meant that she couldn’t pursue the topic she wanted with him standing there listening. Feeling cornered, with her back against the wall, she snatched up the menu again and chose a pasta dish completely at random, only wanting the man to be gone so that she could confront Nikos and find out just what was going on.

‘I don’t for one moment believe,’ she began as soon as they were alone again, ‘that you have invited me here simply to spend an evening together and eat pasta—however good it might be.’

‘You’re right…’

Nikos set his own menu aside and folded his hands together on the tabletop. The movement made a sudden flash of gold catch the light from the candle flame, and Sadie felt her heart thud just once, hard and sharp against her ribs, as she realised that she had no idea whether Nikos was married or if there was a woman in his life.

Someone to replace her.

Outside a heavy rumble of thunder announced the fact that a storm was approaching. Sadie noted it with only half her mind, the rest of her attention focussed on those long, strong, tanned fingers resting on the red and white checked cloth.
Fingers where she now saw the gold was just a signet ring, worn on Nikos’s right hand. At the realisation her breath escaped her in a rush. Breath that she hadn’t even been aware of holding in.

‘I haven’t just invited you here to spend the evening with me. I asked you to meet me because I wanted to offer you a job.’

‘A job?’

And now the waiter was back with the wine, interrupting them again. Was Nikos really making a particular thing about checking the label, having the bottle opened, tasting the small amount the waiter poured into his glass? Or was it just that it seemed that way to her, with every long drawn out second seeming to grate more on her already overstretched nerves, making her want to scream or make some protest. Instead she had to settle for waiting, her back tense, teeth digging into the softness of her bottom lip, until he had nodded his satisfaction and indicated that the waiter should pour her a drink.

‘No, thanks,’ Sadie put in hastily, pressing her hand over the top of her glass. She needed to keep a clear head until she found out just what Nikos was up to. If he pressed her…

Nikos took her decision with surprising equanimity, sipping appreciatively at the rich red liquid in his own glass, once again taking his time before he moved the conversation on at all. Sadie couldn’t stand the waiting any longer.

‘What sort of a job?’ she demanded when the silence had stretched out just too long to bear. ‘Why would you want to employ me? And what makes you think that I would ever want to work for you?’

‘You did,’ Nikos told her coolly, taking another swallow of his wine.

‘I never!’

‘Oh, yes, you did.’

And when she frowned in blank incomprehension, he shook his head slightly, as if in disbelief.

‘What a very short memory you have, Miss Carteret. Whatever happened to “There must be some arrangement we can come to! Surely there’s something I can do—anything”?
Anything,’
he added, with soft menace and deadly emphasis.

Recalling the interpretation he had put on that
‘anything’
earlier that day, Sadie suddenly wished she had accepted some of the wine. Right now it might ease the painful knot of tension tight in her chest, ease the uncomfortably jerky pounding of her heart. She knew she would do anything in her power to gain some extra time that her mother and George could spend in the home that meant so much to them. But did Nikos really mean…?

‘What exactly did you have in mind?’ she managed to croak, another rumble of distant thunder seeming to underline the apprehension in her tone.

Once more Nikos took his time in replying, stony, hard eyes never leaving her face as he leaned back in his chair and seemed to consider his response. Not that he had any need to, Sadie reflected. She had little doubt that he knew exactly what he was going to say and how it would affect her. She had the most uncomfortable feeling that she was as powerless as a puppet, with its strings dangling from the hands of a ruthless and cruel master.

‘We’ll come to that in a moment,’ he said evenly. ‘But first I want you to tell me exactly why you want the house so much.’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Sadie hedged, unwilling to expose her mother’s story to his pitiless gaze.

‘Oh, yes, totally obvious.’

Could his tone get any more cynical?

‘Young woman with no money, a not very successful business as a wedding planner…’

Seeing her start of surprise, he gave a tight smile.

‘I make sure I keep up to date with what is happening to anyone I have had dealings with in the past.’

So how much did he know? The idea of being kept under surveillance like that when she hadn’t known he was watching made her skin crawl.

That smile grew darker, more dangerous, the blaze of the candles reflected in the depths of his penetrating gaze.

‘I always thought that it was something of a very black irony that someone who walked out on her own wedding just the day before it was due to take place should now make her living organising other women’s “big days.”’

Nikos’s sensual mouth twisted on the words.

‘But then the one thing I could never deny is that you always had that very special sense of style. When other people were paying, of course.’