Page 62 of Greek's Temporary Cinderella

‘To save your father’s house for him.’ That edge was still in his voice. ‘To save him from financial ruin.’

Her expression changed. ‘But my marriage to Damian also kept me from poverty—just like you’ve always thrown at me. The poverty you’ve always said I could not have faced had your father disinherited you as he threatened.’

She lifted her chin as she spoke. She could make no defence against Leandros’s accusation—his accusation six years ago and his accusation ever since.

A flash came in his eyes. Anger. Well, she deserved that. She always had.

But his anger was not for that reason.

‘That,’ he bit out, ‘is not true.’

He reached for his beer, took a hefty swallow of it, set it back on the table with a thud. That flash in his eyes came again.

‘I’ve thrown it at you time and time again! And it’s never been true! Because if it were—if all you cared about was a luxury lifestyle—you wouldn’t be living the life you’re leading now. The life I found you living the first time I tracked you down to that dump you lived in. And you’re facing poverty now, taking on Damian’s child as you have—’

‘I don’t have much choice,’ she replied.

She didn’t want this conversation. There was no point to it—no point at all.

The flash was there again. Fiercer still.

‘Yes, you do have a choice! You could leave Miki and his grandmother to fend for themselves. And if Jonas gets hold of his grandson, what is that to you?’

‘I’ll never do that—never!’ There was vehemence in her voice.

‘Exactly! And that proves my point. You could take the allowance Jonas makes you and keep it all for yourself.’ His voice twisted. ‘Keep all those damn clothes I bought you in Paris! Head back to Athens, get out and about again—find another husband or a lover. It doesn’t matter which. Your incredible beauty would guarantee you hit paydirt!’

Her face was paling, the blood draining from it. Dear God, did he still think that of her?

His voice changed. ‘But you won’t. It’s unthinkable to you.’ He took a razored breath. ‘As unthinkable as you marrying Damian just to keep that luxe lifestyle for yourself.’ A laugh broke from him, harsh and humourless. ‘Because you didn’t marry him for that reason at all, even though it was what I told myself, and went on telling myself these past six years. I wanted a reason to hate you, because you no longer valued my love! And that hurt, Eliana—dear God, it hurt! I saw you as pampered and cosseted by your father—overprotected. But it was the other way round—that’s what I’ve finally realised! It was you protecting your father. That’s why you married Damian—to protect your father, to let him see out his days in the house he loved, to escape the financial ruin he was facing at least for his lifetime. You were landed with it after his death instead. Just like your husband landed you with the son he was too scared to claim for himself!’

‘Don’t blame them!’ Her cry came from the heart. ‘Don’t blame Damian—please don’t! He was so cowed by his father—so scared of him. And my father just wasn’t good with money. Those with inherited money often aren’t good—they weren’t the ones who made it, and they don’t know how to manage it. He...he did his best. But he just...well, got into a mess. And after my mother died he was so devastated...’

Leandros was looking at her. ‘I thought you cossetted...overprotected by a doting father. But I’ll say it again: it was the other way round—wasn’t it, Eliana?’

She looked away. The truth was hard to face—she had loved her father so dearly...

‘He was a good man—a kind man—but...but unworldly. He didn’t even see how Damian’s father was netting him, getting control over what happened to the house. And the stress of losing all his money had already given him one stroke...’

Her gaze dropped to where the deeds to the villa lay on the table in front of her.

‘I’m glad,’ she said slowly, sadly, ‘that he never realised he was going to lose the house when he died...that it wouldn’t come to me.’

She heard Leandros speak. ‘But now it has.’

Her eyes flashed up. ‘You know I can’t possibly accept it! How could I? And what possible reason could you have for giving it to me?’

There was a veiling of his eyes. Yet they still rested on her like weights.

‘Do you not know, Eliana? Do you really not know?’

His words fell into silence. Around her she could hear noise from the kitchen, hear the waiter greeting the other diners starting to arrive, conversations beginning.

Could hear, inside her, the thudding of her heart. Which was like a hammer. Drumming in her pulse.

‘I want it,’ he spoke slowly and clearly, for all the veiling in his eyes, ‘to be my wedding present to you, Eliana.’

The drumming was deafening...drowning out everything. Making her feel faint. Making the room come and go around her.

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