Page 37 of Modern Romance June 2025 1-4

‘But caring was never on the agenda!’ he continued remorselessly, steeling himself against the look she was directing at him. Because what she wanted and what he wanted were opposite sides of the coin and it was time she realised that, once and for all. ‘You know what we agreed,’ he concluded coldly. ‘That it was nothing but a marriage of convenience.’

‘Yes, of course I knowwhat we agreed. But we’re human beings—not machines! It doesn’t always work like that. At least, for some of us, it doesn’t. But anyway, that’s all academic now, isn’t it?’ She rose to her feet. ‘Like I said, I want to go back to England. Obviously, I can’t just rock up to the airport and buy myself a ticket, because there isn’t one. And since the only way off this place is by your helicopter, or one of the fishermen’s boats, I’m going to need your help. But if this sudden change of plan makes you unwilling to do that, then I’m prepared to swim if I have to even if Iama relative novice!’

Despite her reckless threat, there was a quiet dignity about her which was making his heart clench and suddenly Odysseus realised that his throat had grown so dry that he couldn’t speak. And the crazy thing was that he wanted to pull her into his arms. To kiss away the hurt which was making her lips look as tight as the bud of a rose. To transmute that hurt into the desire which always thrummed between them, no matter what they did or said, even now.

And if he did that, then what?

It was obvious.

Nothing would change. Her expectations would increase until, sooner or later, he would be unable to meet them. And thenhewould be the one who had to end it, which she would inevitably find more difficult. He felt the hard punch of his heart. She was a beautiful woman, inside and out, and if he were a different kind of man then maybe he could have believed in some kind of future with her.

But he wasn’t. He could never be the kind of man she needed, and even if he could…he didn’t want to be. Because what kind of idiot would voluntarily open themselves up to the prospect of pain? It would be like somebody whose flesh had been burned to the bone putting their hand straight back in the fire.

He rose to his feet and felt another twist of his heart as she looked up into his eyes because never had she seemed a more bewitching combination of the strong and the vulnerable.

‘I will get you back to England with all speed, Grace,’ he said heavily and then managed to give a bitter smile, although his lips felt as if they were made of concrete. ‘And believe me, one day you’ll thank me for it.’

As he turned away from her, Grace could have wept, but she pursed her lips together hard to ensure that didn’t happen. No way was she going to make him aware of the pain which was coursing through her veins like a fierce fever, making her heart pound and her skin shiver. She needed to convince him that all her stupid dreams had been extinguished. She had only to think of his brutal words if she needed any more convincing that he couldn’t wait to see the back of her.

‘Yes. Do that,’ she said tonelessly. ‘Get me out of here with all speed.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Gracehadlearnedhow to mop the floorsmindfully—which apparently involved using as many muscles as possible and thinking about nothing more than how shiny the tiles were becoming under her rhymical ministrations. Because it was easier to think about her daily domestic chores than allow herself to be dragged back down into a whirlpool of misery. Outside the rain was bashing against the windows as it seemed to have been doing ever since she’d arrived back in England, and the relentless downpour seemed to echo her mood.

She’d left the island of Kosmima on a high of indignation and hurt, but it had all been downhill from there. She shook her head, impatient with herself. Had she honestly thought she’d be able to wave a magic wand and magically drive Odysseus from her mind? Had she imagined that a man like him would be so easy to forget? Fourteen days into her new life and the aching in her heart seemed to be getting worse instead of better. But time healed, apparently. It was the one thing on which everyone was agreed.

Straightening up from her bucket, she pushed a fist into the small of her back and gave it a little rub, relieved that her long shift would soon be over and she’d be able to put her feet up. Working as a cleaner at the old folks’ home was physically much harder than anything she’d ever done at the Contarini house but it was way more rewarding. And, of course, she got to see Nana as often as she wanted.

‘Grace?’

She turned round to see the duty manager, who was smiling at her. The kindly, middle-aged woman who had insisted on giving Grace a job when she’d stumbled in one rainy morning, feeling like an alien who had landed from outer space. Who had offered her a job as a domestic cleaner and somehow managed to include a tiny room as part of the package. She’d been so gentle when Grace had been trying hard not to cry and that flicker of kindness had seemed like the single tiny light shining at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

‘Yes, Mrs MacCormack?’ Grace squeezed out her mop and straightened up. ‘I hope everything’s to your satisfaction?’

‘It certainly is. Sure, and couldn’t you see your face in those tiles?’ But after her initial burst of enthusiasm, the Irishwoman’s smile faded. ‘You have a visitor.’

This should have been the moment when Grace blinked in surprise, asking who it was. But she knew who it was, because there was only one person itcouldbe. None of her friends from Venice would have just turned up without warning and she hadn’t had the chance to make any friends in England yet. Hadn’t wanted to, if the truth were known, because she suspected she’d be rotten company at the moment. And though not a day had gone by when she hadn’t fantasised about exactly this scenario, now that the moment was here, Grace was filled with an overwhelming sense of trepidation—mostly because of her own reaction, which was one of excitement and, yes, joy. But that was plain stupid. It was probably something to do with the divorce settlement, because what other reason would he have for coming here? Maybe his lawyers had managed to find a loophole in the prenup and he was about to tell her that he wasn’t prepared to be as generous as he’d originally stated.

No.

Grace might find it possible to entertain any number of bleak thoughts about her estranged husband, but on some gut level she knew he would never cheat her. ‘What did you tell him?’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I finish in half an hour.’

‘Put your bucket away, dear, and you can knock off early. He’s waiting in the lobby and he doesn’t look like the kind of man who is used to being kept waiting.’ Mrs MacCormack hesitated. ‘Or would you like me to send him away altogether?’

Yes, thought Grace. Send him as far away as possible, so that I don’t have to look at his beautiful face and have my heart broken all over again.

But she wasn’t a coward and anyway, something told her that if Odysseus Diamides wanted to see her, then nothing would stand in his way until that mission had been accomplished.

She shivered.

Why the hell should she make it easy for him?

‘I’ll work until the end of my shift,’ she said doggedly and was rewarded with a nod of approval from the older woman. ‘Tell him he’ll have to wait.’

As it was, she took even longer than she’d planned, washing out her mop with extra care and not even bothering to change out of her polyester uniform. Keeping her severe hairstyle in place, she glanced in the mirror, wondering if she was shooting herself in the foot by presenting him with such a drab appearance.

But what did she think was going to happen? That if she let her hair down and dabbed on a bit of lip gloss, Odysseus would fall to her feet in a swoon and tell her he couldn’t live without her? She gave a bitter laugh as she made her way towards the main entrance. No. She was through with having unrealistic expectations.

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