Page 32 of Greek's Temporary "I Do"

‘What?’ she couldn’t help but ask.

‘That,’ he replied, nodding towards the downward trajectory of the road, at the end of which was a small fishing village. ‘Are you hungry yet?’ he asked.

Oh, yes. She was very hungry. Just not for what he was able to offer her.

Half an hour later, they were sitting under a blue and white fluttering awning, protecting them from the fierce heat of the sun. The table was one of only about six on the small terrace of the main, and quite possibly only, restaurant in the small village stuck like a barnacle to the side of the coast.

‘Are you sure this is how you want to celebrate?’ Leo asked, as if he wasn’t sure it was enough.

‘Yes!’ she insisted with genuine sincerity. ‘Because honestly, if I have to smile at another reporter, or give another red-carpet interview, I think I might actually murder someone.’

‘Well, if it’s my brother, then I’ll happily help,’ Leo replied with a humour that was usually absent when talking about Leander. She ignored the slip, all the while hoping for more. Because she would love nothing more than to help the two brothers find their way back to some semblance of a relationship. Somehow.

The waiter arrived to pour their wine, promising that the food would be with them shortly. They had ordered a fish platter and side of fresh salads, pitta and the hummus she had been lusting after the moment she’d seen another couple dining in the late afternoon sun indulging in the chickpea dip.

‘To your new brand ambassador,’ Leo toasted.

Helena clinked her glass to his and took a sip of the cool white wine that instantly burst with tart, delicious freshness on her tongue.

‘And can I ask what she will be branding for you?’ Leo enquired.

Helena swallowed, the wine going down the wrong way and causing her to cough.

Apologising and spluttering, she didn’t know why she was reluctant for him to know, even though she was aware that she’d been keeping it from him.

‘It’s a medical charity,’ she started.

Leo’s head cocked to one side in curiosity.

‘For heart conditions, mainly. But it’s one of the only charities supporting the families of people with—’

‘Brugada,’ Leo correctly concluded.

She clenched her jaw, surprised that Leo had realised, had even known the name of the disease that had killed her father. She was touched—moved. They hadn’t really been talking that much back then.

Shock rippled through Leo’s body with a shiver that raised the hairs on his arms and neck. Brugada syndrome was what had caused Michael Hadden’s heart to stop one night in his sleep and never start again. There were rarely any symptoms of the genetic disorder that caused irregular heart rhythms that were often catastrophic if left undiagnosed.

Malákas.

‘I didn’t know,’ he confessed.

‘Why should you?’ she asked defiantly.

‘Because if I had I would never have offered such a low price for the shares. Christós, Helena.’ Leo’s conscience sucker-punched him in the gut so hard he was winded.

‘Don’t do that,’ she commanded. ‘I made my choice that day. I knew what I was doing,’ she whispered angrily.

‘But I didn’t,’ he fired back.

Helena let out a cynical laugh. ‘Whether you like it or not, I made it as a businesswoman. If you change your mind because you feel sorry for me, you’re undermining me and patronising me. On the day we’re supposedly celebrating me.’

Realisation dawned in his gaze and he started to shake his head in denial, but stopped as he fully understood what she was saying.

‘That wasn’t my intention.’

‘But it was what you were doing,’ she pointed out gently.

‘It’s not a good deal for you,’ he said again.

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