Thena. He was the only one who’d ever shortened her name. It made her feel…as she had no business feeling.

Just tell it like it is and move on, she told herself. Be blunt and cold and not interested. He was talking history. Argyros was no longer anything to do with her.

‘You’re right,’ she managed. ‘I don’t have a choice. My life is here.’

But not in this room. All of a sudden the room was claustrophobic. Her past was colliding with her present, and it made her feel as if the ground was shaking underneath her.

She and Nikos in the same room? No, no, no.

She and Nikos in the same city? She and Nikos and their son?

No!

Fear had her almost frozen.

‘Nikos, this is futile,’ she managed. ‘There’s no use telling me to go home. My home is here. Meanwhile, I have things to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me…’ She handed her Martini glass back to him and, before he could respond she swivelled and made her way swiftly through the crowd.

She reached the door-and she kept on walking.

She hadn’t retrieved her checked coat. It didn’t matter. Outside was cold, but she wasn’t feeling cold. Her face was burning. She was shaking.

Maybe he’d let her be.

Or maybe not. He hadn’t come all the way from Argyros to be ignored.

It was raining. Her stilettos weren’t built for walking. She wanted to take them off and run. Because of course he’d follow.

Of course he did.

When he fell in step beside her she felt as if she’d been punched. Nikos…He threatened her world.

‘Where are we going?’ he asked mildly.

‘Nowhere you’re welcome.’

‘Is this any way to greet family?’

‘I’m not your family.’

‘Tell that to my mother.’

His mother…She thought of Annia and felt a stab of real regret. She glanced sideways at Nikos-and then looked swiftly away. Annia…Argyros…

Nikos.

She’d walked away from them ten years ago. Leaving had broken her heart.