The Good Greek Wife? by Kate Walker Read Free Book Online Page B

he quoted cynically, leaving her in no doubt that he had heard every word of her talk with Jason. ‘“I’m tired of treading water.”’
    â€˜You really shouldn’t listen in to other people’s conversations,’ she flashed back, knowing with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach just how he would have interpreted it. ‘Don’t you know that it’s a fact that eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves?’
    â€˜I’m sure that most never actually overhear their wife planning to have them declared dead.’
    â€˜You were dead! At least—I—we thought you were.’
    â€˜And that was how it suited you.’
    His grip on her tightened as he spoke, crushing her fingers. But it was not the biting pressure that shocked her, rather the rush of wild electricity up her arm, tracking a burning pathway along her nerves that frightened her with its instant and shocking reaction. How could he still affect her in this way when deep inside she knew the truth about the coldness of his heart?
    â€˜I don’t want this,’ she managed, tensing her muscles against his hold, pulling herself away from him as far as she could while he still kept her hand prisoner.
    She had to get away, to find some space and quiet in which to collect her thoughts and decide how to go forward.
    â€˜Let me go!’
    If he reacted against her, if he held her tighter, pulled her close, then she did not know what she would do. The swirl ofambiguous feelings inside her head was like a tornado, throwing her off balance and leaving her unable to think.
    â€˜I said let me go!’
    The speed with which he released her added to the sense of shock, making her sway and stumble, almost fall. But it was fear that he would come for her again that had her reeling away, grabbing out at a nearby chair for support.
    â€˜Don’t come near me! I don’t want you near me!’
    Oh, you liar, you liar, her conscience reproached her bitterly. You weak, cowardly liar. She wanted nothing so much as his arms around her, his body close to hers, to hold her and comfort her, to warm her and melt away the hard core of ice that seemed to have formed at the centre of her heart.
    But Zarek simply folded his arms across his broad chest and regarded her coldly through eyes that seemed to have been formed from burnished steel, polished so hard that they were opaque and closed off against her.
    â€˜Of course not,’ he drawled with bitter cynicism. ‘After all, you never really wanted me back.’
    It was only what she’d told him. If you go, don’t expect me to be waiting here when you come back. Bitter pain had made her lash out at the time, knowing she would rather die than have him realise just how much she had loved him when he had seen her only as a willing body to warm his bed—and a brood mare to conceive his child. But it still stung viciously to have her wild, unthinking words turned against her in this way.
    â€˜You’ve sprung this on me—appearing from the dead. I—need some time,’ she managed, trying for appeasement but getting nowhere with it if the cold burn of his gaze was anything to go by. And the way those powerful arms were crossed tight over his chest was like a rigid shield, deflecting any appeal she might direct at him.
    â€˜Then take it.’
    â€˜What?’
    With her own defences ready formed for battle, his sudden capitulation was so unexpected that it took all the defiance from her, leaving her limp as a deflated balloon.
    â€˜Take it.’
    It was more of a command this time, snapped at her with contempt that was like a slap in the face. It seemed that he had had enough of baiting her, for now at least. That shocking, taunting mood seemed to have evaporated, leaving instead something that sounded disturbingly like a cynical weariness.
    â€˜If you need the time to adjust to the fact that the husband you hoped was