The Volakis Vow: Bride For Real Part 6

Her mobile phone buzzed at eight-thirty. and she answered it. 'There's a story about Lili in the Daily Globe today,' Sander informed her grimly. 'Someone somewhere has talked out of turn. The paparazzi will be on your doorstep today looking for a reaction.'

Her strained face froze. 'I'll cope-'

'I don't think you should try. You should get out of London until the fuss dies down.'

'Nonsense. I have a business to run,' Tally fielded coldly, already in the act of searching on her computer for the online edition of the paper.

'I'm sending a security team over to your showroom. If you take my advice-'

'I won't,' Tally interrupted glacially.

'-you'll let them get you out of there before the proverbial hits the fan,' Sander murmured. 'With stories like this the paps can be very aggressive.'

'Then you should try not to lead the kind of life that attracts them,' Tally retaliated sourly. 'Thankfully I don't-'

'It's just unfortunate that you married me,' Sander completed for her with sardonic bite.

She logged onto the newspaper's website and immediately saw the headline that screamed at her: BILLION-POUND BABY! Beside it was a picture of a very decorative blonde carrying a baby seat into a famous London hotel, Sander's tall, powerful figure recognisable several steps in her wake. The little girl's face was not visible. Her heart in her throat, Tally clicked on the item and began to read. Evidently Oleia Telis had died a hugely wealthy heiress and had left everything she possessed, including her child, to Sander, who was referred to as the 'hot-blooded Greek shipping magnate, currently pursuing reconciliation with his wife'. His relationship with Oleia was described as 'volatile but enduring' by a close friend who chose not to be named, the implication being that Oleia had become Sander's mistress during his marriage. That was an idea that had never occurred to Tally before and it knocked her for six.

Stunned, she suddenly felt the need for some fresh air and as she stumbled out of the entrance to her showroom a flash bulb went off and startled her into a standstill. As she glanced up in dismay a man demanded to know why she was no longer living with her husband. Aghast, Tally sped back into her office where her a.s.sistant, Belle, lifted her hand to grab Tally's attention and put the phone down saying anxiously, 'The phone has been ringing off the hook ... the media asking nosy questions about-'

'I have no comment to make, no comment to make about anything,' Tally slotted in stiffly, her heart quickening its beat as another man strode in, a fancy camera dangled round his neck.

'I have some questions for Mrs Volakis,' he announced.

Tally straightened her slim shoulders but her colour was high. 'I'm not interested in answering questions. Please leave!'

But even as she spoke someone else was powering through the showroom door and asking loudly, 'Mrs. Volakis, did you know about your husband's baby by the Greek heiress, Oleia Telis?'

'Either you leave now or we call the police!' Belle threatened, standing her ground st.u.r.dily while the oafish young man attempted to push his way past her.

Something of a free-for-all was developing when the security presence that Sander had promised arrived in the persons of two, very large and powerfully built men who got rid of the obstreperous intruders with the minimum of commotion. By that stage, Tally had registered that there were now other paparazzi waiting out on the pavement and her earlier conviction that she could easily ride out any fuss was beginning to look naive.

'I'm Johnson, Mrs Volakis. We'll take you out through the back entrance now.'

'I have an appointment-'

'I think you should take the day off,' Belle remarked with a grimace as yet another photographer rapped loudly on the window to get attention. 'If you're not here, they'll clear off.'

'I'm meeting Lady Margaret at ten-'

'I'll call and reschedule,' her a.s.sistant offered. 'I don't think she'd be too impressed if she had to wade through that scrum out there.'

Thinking of the very correct older woman, Tally was inclined to agree. While also thinking that such an unsavoury scandal would scarcely appeal to her clients and might indeed damage her business reputation. She lifted her bag and grabbed her coat to accompany the security men through the back entrance. As they tucked her into a big, black saloon car a man came running down the alley with a camera clutched in one hand. Her protectors threw themselves into the car and drove off at speed. Relieved to have escaped further hara.s.sment, Tally gave them her address.

'Your husband is expecting you to go to his new country house, Roxburn Manor,' Johnson imparted.

'I want to go to my own home,' Tally said firmly, while wondering when Sander had acquired the manor house. He certainly hadn't mentioned the fact to her. On some level it still shook her to be reminded that Sander had been leading an entirely separate life for many months and she could not understand why she should be reacting that way.

Exasperation gripped her when she saw a photographer pacing outside her apartment building and the car had to accelerate away from the kerb again.

'We'll return to the original plan,' Johnson p.r.o.nounced.

After her disturbed rest the night before, Tally was tired and in no mood to argue. She didn't want to go anywhere, she just wanted to vanish to a secluded place where she could feel safe from all the distressing elements currently infiltrating her world. Never had she felt as insecure as she did at that moment, she could not even take refuge in her apartment. Digging out her phone from her bag, she rang Sander.

'It's a two-day wonder, glikia mou,' he told her soothingly. 'It'll be someone else's turn to be worked over and chased round town next week. You'll get peace and quiet at Roxburn Manor.'

'All right, but just for a couple of days,' she agreed ruefully. 'I want to sleep for a week.'

'Are you sleeping properly?' Sander enquired in a tone of concern that she resented.

'I was sleeping perfectly until you came back into my life!' Tally fielded thinly.

Ten minutes later, Johnson escorted her into the lift of a skysc.r.a.per office block and up out onto the roof where a Volakis helicopter awaited them. Tally scrambled in and buckled up, only realising as she did so that she didn't even have a change of clothes with her. Just then her lack of luggage didn't seem that important: she was in a daze, almost traumatised by the fast-moving events of the past twenty-four hours.

The journey in the helicopter provided a welcome distraction from her unhappy thoughts. The sky hung blue and clear above a world composed of green fields and woods broken up by occasional settlements of small houses. Roxburn Manor, however, was a somewhat more impressive building, she registered as the helicopter came in to land within yards of a very elegant Georgian mansion. Mrs Jones, the housekeeper, greeted Tally with a warm smile and took her straight through the big airy hall into a s.p.a.cious reception room where a log fire was burning in the grate to take the chill off the cool early summer day. A tray of refreshments arrived and lunch was discussed.

Tally had not realised quite how tired or how hungry she was until she sank into the opulent feathered comfort of a capacious sofa and let the tension fall away. A cup of tea and several biscuits later, she kicked off her shoes, curled up and sleep overtook her. It was dusk when she awoke. Darkness lay beyond the firelight flickering bright reflections on the windows and the noise that had wakened her was the sound of a helicopter landing. Her brow pleating she sat up, pushing her tumbled hair off her brow and searching for her shoes.

A light knock sounded on the ajar door and the housekeeper glanced in. 'Mrs Volakis? I didn't like to wake you for lunch but now that your husband's arrived, I'll ensure that dinner is served without delay.'

Wide awake now, Tally scrambled off the sofa, green eyes huge, mouth falling open in surprise. 'My husband?' she framed unevenly, unable to conceal her dismay.

Just then, she heard Sander's voice raised to address Mrs Jones and she stalked to the door in angry disbelief. What a fool she had been to blindly agree to being transported to Roxburn Manor! Why hadn't it occurred to her that Sander might be planning to join her there? Or that Sander might use the hara.s.sment of the paparazzi as a weapon against her? Just when had she become so naive that her astute husband could hoodwink her without effort?

Sander entered the hall, looking impossibly male, and tall and broad, in a dark cashmere overcoat worn over his business suit. Dark stubble roughening his strong jaw line, he turned hooded dark eyes on Tally's pet.i.te figure in the drawing-room doorway. 'Tally ... Mrs Jones tells me you haven't eaten yet. I won't keep you waiting long-'

'I need to speak to you,' Tally began heatedly.

And then she heard a baby's unmistakeable wail somewhere nearby. Sander stepped to one side and a youthful brunette with a baby carrier appeared. Tally's attention homed straight in on the child it transported. Only part of a little red face and a quiff of curly dark hair showed above the edge of a rug. Paralysed to the spot by the sight, Tally lost every sc.r.a.p of her angry colour and turned eyes of incredulous reproach on Sander before she wheeled round and retreated back into the drawing room, not trusting herself to speak while they had an audience.

Dear heaven, how could he set up such a confrontation? How could he bring that child to stay under the same roof as her? Did he have no conception of what he was doing to her? That was his child out there, the daughter he had had with Oleia! A soundless scream seemed to be stealing all the s.p.a.ce in Tally's lungs and she knew that she was hyperventilating again ...

CHAPTER EIGHT.

'TALLY...' Sander strode in and took off his coat, casting it down on a chair before closing the door to give them privacy.

Although Tally felt as though a large rock were sitting at the foot of her throat, she struggled to breathe normally again and loosen the choking tightness squeezing her chest. Sander focused deep-set eyes as tawny as a mountain cougar's on her rigid features. With faint colour scoring his strong cheekbones and accentuating the sleek angles and the hollows of his superb bone structure, he looked stunningly handsome and yet cautious as a man balancing on a rope above an abyss.

'How could you bring that child here?' Tally demanded starkly, her disbelief unhidden. At the same time she was resenting the undeniable buzz that his arrival evoked, the fizz in her bloodstream that acted like too much wine on a weak head. It mortified her that she could still be so aware of him.

'I couldn't just leave them in the hotel.'

'Why not?' Tally prompted, in no mood to be reasonable.

'Lili cries incessantly and she was disturbing the other guests. The hotel management was complaining.' Sander compressed his wide sensual mouth as he made that exasperated admission. 'Suzette's replacement is new and inexperienced and she's struggling to cope. There's no way I could leave her in sole charge of Lili in London with a posse of paps hanging around looking for a photo opportunity.'

'All of a sudden you're acting so responsibly ... like a real parent,' Tally sneered. She hated herself for doing it but could not swallow back the gibe.

'I'm doing my best,' Sander acknowledged curtly, his beautifully shaped mouth hardening on the acknowledgement. 'I have to: there's n.o.body else to do it.'

However, Sander's world was feeling like an evermore hostile environment in which his every past sin came back to haunt him, many times. He was bleakly aware that he had not shone in adversity when Tally had fallen accidentally pregnant after they had been seeing each other for only a few weeks. The resentful edge of immaturity and the troubled childhood that had prevented him from accepting his new parenting role with enthusiasm had lingered with devastating results. He had kept his distance, preserving his detachment for the sake of his pride, and when the worst had happened it had proved too late in the day to turn the clock back and change anything.

Even through the solid thickness of the door Tally could hear the faint sound of the baby's heart-wrenching cries. Although the nanny had undoubtedly taken the child upstairs, she could still hear the little girl. Or was she simply imagining the fact that she could still hear the baby crying? Tally wondered worriedly. After all, she had already discovered that her imagination was boundless when sleep had plunged her back into the nightmares that had once haunted her. Her teeth gritted, her adrenalin jumping to sky-high levels at those cries, setting up a dim mocking echo in her ears. She wanted to run and keep on running but something steel hard inside her refused to give way to that craven urge. Any temptation to show weakness in Sander's vicinity had to be fought. Even if it killed her she would stay on at Roxburn Manor.

'I didn't even know you were planning to join me at this house, never mind bringing that child with you,' Tally condemned angrily. 'I'd never have agreed to leave London if I'd realised what awaited me here!'

Sander shifted a fluid brown hand as if to forestall that censure. 'I didn't think about that angle. I'm sorry. My only objective was to help you ...'

'How can you help me? You're my problem!' Tally flung at him in a seething rage, glaring at him, her marmalade-coloured hair bouncing against her flushed cheekbones as she jerked an emphatic hand to underline that point. 'I wouldn't be running away from the press and their horrible nosy questions if it wasn't for you and your behaviour!'

Lean strong face clenched hard with self-discipline, Sander veiled his hot, golden gaze and squared his broad shoulders in resolute silence. He wanted to walk out, jump into the helicopter and go back to his office, where his best efforts invariably paid off with a profit. He was b.l.o.o.d.y marvellous at making money. He knew that, knew too that many women would regard it as his most appealing trait. For the first time he wished that diamonds were a currency that Tally appreciated. But when she had left a safe full of them behind when she'd walked out on their marriage, he had got the message that jewellery was no big deal for her. Tally expected more intangible and meaningful things from him. He just wasn't sure that he had whatever that was within him to give. And, unhappily, he didn't have the words to explain that lack to her either.

The smouldering silence of their mutual dissatisfaction was interrupted by the housekeeper inviting them through to the dining room for dinner Tally toyed with the idea of asking if she could eat upstairs in her room but she didn't want to act the demanding diva when she had no idea how much a.s.sistance the older woman might have in the household. Soft, full pink lips flattening with strain, she took a seat with an air of discomfiture in the stiflingly formal dining room.

'Why did you invite me here?' she asked after a young woman wearing an overall had served them with soup. 'If your arrival means that you think I'm accepting this situation-'

'Hardly,' Sander fielded that suggestion with a coolly raised ebony brow. 'I didn't want you struggling to cope with media intrusion when it was my fault that you had become a target. I thought you would get peace here.'

The soup was carrot and coriander and delicious. Tally wondered if it would warm the cold place inside her but reckoned that would take a blowtorch. 'When did you buy this house?'

'I didn't... buy it,' Sander tacked on when she looked back at him with a frown. 'Roxburn Manor belongs to my parents. About ten years ago my mother took the notion that she would like to live like an English country lady but one wet summer killed the dream. I can't recall when they last used this place.'

Tally studied the cool blue painted walls and highly ornate spindly furniture, which was so out of step with the age of the house, and thought that she should have recognised his mother's elaborate taste in interior design. With tact she made no comment about the wastefulness of retaining such a large property and not making use of it. She had never forgotten how very hard Sander had had to work to keep Volakis Shipping afloat while his parents continued to spend, spend, spend as though there were not a single cloud in their financial sky. Born into money, his parents were two of the most self-indulgent people she knew, yet Sander never ever criticised the extravagant lifestyle they took for granted. Considering the way his parents treated him, Tally saw his lack of complaint on that score as a phenomenon of filial loyalty and restraint.

Yes, Sander did have many good points, she acknowledged reluctantly. He was an excellent son to his undeserving parents, a hard worker, a terrific provider and a highly entertaining companion in and out of bed. But that thought process only sent Tally slap-bang, head first into a painful collision with the awareness of the one fact she could not surmount: Oleia's child. Tally's life had been turned upside down and there was nothing she could do about it, aside of walking away from Sander and their marriage for good. Was that what she was planning to do?

Immobilised by the sheer threat of that prospect, Tally flinched when her mobile phone began to flash and buzz on the chair beside her.

'Leave it,' Sander told her impatiently.

Predictably Tally ignored that piece of advice and reached for the handset. It was Robert and an almost comical expression of dismay stamped her face.

'Where on earth are you?' he demanded. 'I've been waiting twenty minutes!'

Tally groaned out loud and began to apologise. The first Friday of every month, she and Robert always met over dinner to discuss business at her interiors firm and she had missed the previous month because she had been in Morocco. 'Robert, I am so sorry. I completely forgot that I was supposed to be seeing you tonight-'

'I can read newspapers,' Robert responded wryly. 'I know the rapturous reunion has to be hitting the skids fast under the tide of revelations coming out now in print.'

Her face flamed. 'Don't be sarcastic.'

'I'm very much on the outside with this, Tally,' her business partner said ruefully. 'I don't know what you expect from me.'

'Can't you just be my friend?' Tally questioned uncomfortably.

'You're making that a challenge. And blowing off Lady Margaret this morning wasn't a good move on your part. She's already been on the phone to complain to me. She doesn't want to be palmed off with one of your employees.'

Tally frowned. 'I a.s.sured her that any work she gives us would be receiving my personal attention. We were only going to have a preliminary meeting to discuss her preferences today.'

'Where are you?'

Outrageously conscious of Sander's hard questioning scrutiny, she explained about Roxburn Manor.

'I'll drive down and see you tomorrow around noon,' Robert told her and he cut off the call before she could protest.

Her strained eyes collided with Sander's steady dark golden gaze. 'What?' she snapped in the uneasy silence that had spread.

'What's the state of play with Miller?' he queried in a charged undertone just as the woman in the overall reappeared to lift the plates and deliver the main course.

In the wake of her departure, Tally tilted her chin. 'My relationship with Robert is private.'

His intent gaze burned like the heart of a hot fire. 'Don't say that to me!'

'And don't push me to point out that what came out yesterday has forced me to reconsider our marriage!' Tally framed hoa.r.s.ely, not wanting to make that threat but unable to silence the angry words br.i.m.m.i.n.g on her lips.

'I'm not stupid.' Sander studied her heart-shaped face, taking in the big green eyes torn by indecision and strain and the wounded curve of her luscious peach-tinted mouth. His appet.i.te died there and then. He tossed his napkin down on the plate and vaulted upright. 'Excuse me: I also have a couple of calls to make.'

Tears stung Tally's eyes and she blinked them back angrily. She ate with dogged determination, recalling the many silent and lonely meals she had eaten when their marriage was falling apart in the South of France. While she'd been lost in grief, Sander had buried himself in work to the extent that she had felt alone and neglected and fully justified in deciding to leave him. But, just at that instant, she realised that maybe she had driven Sander away from her by reminding him that she no longer knew whether or not she was willing to give their marriage another go. She remembered her father's blackmail and almost laughed, knowing that he too would be watching events and wondering what the outcome would be.

History had repeated itself with the birth of an illegitimate child. Once she had been that child but at least she had been born before her father, Anatole, had met and married her half-sister, Cosima's, mother. Now she was getting a glimpse of what it felt like to be on the other side of the fence. She was full of angry resentment and uncharitable feelings for an innocent child who had not asked to be born. That acknowledgement only made Tally feel more wretched and confused than ever. It would probably be easier to walk away than to try and stay and make a go of their marriage in such circ.u.mstances, she reflected painfully. But the easier path wasn't necessarily the right one.

Mrs Jones showed her up to her room, her cheerful manner spelling out the reality that she was delighted that the manor was being occupied, even temporarily. In the background Tally tried not to listen to the mournful strain of Lili's continued howling from the floor above, while thinking that there surely had to be something amiss when a child cried so constantly and loudly and then hastily forcing the reflection back out of her mind again. A pile of boxes greeted her on the bed of the elegant guest room. Her investigations revealed a nightdress and wrap, as well as a skirt and sweater and lingerie all in the correct sizes. That was one thing about having a womaniser as a husband, Tally thought wryly, he really did know enough about her s.e.x to understand what it took to make a woman comfortable.

But was Sander still a womaniser? Honesty bade her admit that she had had no reason to doubt his fidelity while they'd still been living together as man and wife. And he was right when it came to one major issue: she had abandoned their marriage. Only now did Tally recognise that grief had coloured everything she'd felt back then, adding to her unhappy conviction that her husband had only married her because she was pregnant. The stillbirth of their child had convinced her that there was no longer any reason for them to stay together and that Sander's constant absences were his way of telling her that. Now, recalling his admission that he had drunk heavily for a while after their break-up, she reckoned she was guilty of making too many a.s.sumptions-while ignoring the fact that Sander had always been bold enough to speak up on his own behalf.

Towelling herself dry after a quick shower, Tally put on the nightdress and wrap. All the while she was painfully conscious that Lili was still mournfully wailing at the top of the house. Finally she couldn't stand that muted sound in the background any longer and she stalked out of the room and headed off downstairs in search of Sander.

Sander was using his laptop at a vast and grandiose mahogany desk that was much more his father's style than his. When she appeared in the doorway, he glanced up with brilliant dark eyes and then visibly froze.

'To what do I owe the honour?' He savoured the sight of her in garments he had personally chosen for her. The costly turquoise silk lay in a fine glossy layer against her slight body, moulding the pouting curve of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and the taut peaks. He hardened instantaneously, desire piercing his big powerful body with almost painful immediacy. The neckline of the wrap showed only a shallow vee of pale creamy flesh and yet that small glimpse of her velvet soft skin was the most erotic thing he had ever seen.

Beneath his steady scrutiny Tally reddened and stood rigid as a board. 'You probably won't think it's any of my business, but a baby that cries as much as Lili seems to-' she p.r.o.nounced the name out loud for the first time and her voice faltered slightly over the word '-ought to be checked over by a doctor. Just in case she's crying because she's in pain ... or something.'

Sander slid lithely upright, straightening to his full six-feet-plus height with fluid grace. Luxuriant black lashes semi-concealing his burning dark golden gaze, he sighed heavily. 'A doctor saw her in London. Apparently she suffers from infantile eczema and it's making her pretty miserable. The nanny has been given medication and a treatment schedule for her care.'

Tally experienced her first pang of compa.s.sion for Oleia's daughter. She'd had a friend at school who'd suffered from eczema and knew how distressing it could be to live with a skin condition that could cause intense irritation. 'That's good. Maybe given some time the treatment will help,' she said brittlely, striving to behave as though they were sharing a perfectly normal conversation. 'How's the nanny coping?'

'She's only providing temporary cover and will be replaced by another nanny tomorrow.' As Tally frowned Sander compressed his handsome mouth in agreement. 'It's far from ideal, but that's the best arrangement I was able to make at short notice.'

'We sound like polite strangers,' Tally commented unevenly, dismayed by the fact that they were both walking on eggsh.e.l.ls.