A Perfect Love: International Billionaires VI: The Greeks (21 page)

The thought stopped her.

Her breath was ragged, her skin tight and hot. She wasn’t free really. She still had to take care of her brothers.

Something hard and cold popped inside her. Something selfish and needy and greedy. Something that told her the boys had had enough of her, had taken all she had to give right now. They’d taken more than she had to give.

The realization propelled her forward once more. The arm of a bush tore a rent in her lace dress. Her feet scraped on the rocks and bled. A trickle of sweat rolled down her spine.

She kept climbing.

The moonlight wove patterns of dark and light on the ridges of the mountains surrounding her. A slight wind brushed the tears on her cheeks, drying them. The chirping call of a nightingale was the only sound beyond her harsh breathing.

Maybe he’d given up chasing her down.

“Tamsin.” The hardness in his voice came from right behind her. “This is crazy.”

Crazy. Yes. She’d been crazy. Crazy to believe this man could ever be the dream she’d once loved. Crazy to spend her whole life making others happy.

Crazy to give everything and receive so little back.

She stopped as the ping of this awareness ran through her. Glancing to her side, trying to avoid a conclusion she didn’t want to make, she laughed under her breath.

How ironic.

Tam stepped off the path. Right into the hollow where they’d first made love.

Strike that thought. A grim smile came to her face. Where she’d mistakenly given her love and he’d carelessly taken it. Along with her virginity.

“Your feet are bleeding.”

She turned to face him. “What do you care?”

The hard line of his jaw tightened. “Come back to the house. I’ve got bandages.”

She laughed again, the sound lilting in the night air. “You’ll play the doctor for me, Raphael?”

A muscle in his jaw rolled. “You’re acting crazy.”

“And saying crazy things, aren’t I?” She folded her arms around her, the sweat cooling on her skin. “Crazy to think of you as a doctor, right?”

“Don’t try and change the subject.”

Once more, she laughed. Amazing how not caring anymore gave a person such freedom. Freedom from disappointment and hurt. Freedom to say whatever, even if it caused pain. “Do you recognize this place?”

“Of course, I do.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, his eyes gleaming like ink in the moonlight. “Here’s where I slept with my enemy.”

Tam made a sound deep in her throat. Not caring. “Here’s where you took my virginity.”

He jerked straight, his shoulders going taut. “What?”

“You heard,” she murmured. “You took.”

He turned away to scowl out at the valley. The moonlight caressed his profile like she’d done when they’d come together. How stupid she’d been. To think they had been united. That they had been one.

“You’re lying,” he gritted.

How stupid. To think this man was worthy of her gift. Gifts. “Believe whatever you want.”

Jerking around, he glared at her.

She laughed. Low and from deep within her, she laughed in the face of his rage. Because he had no hold on her anymore. Thank God. She was free.

“This.” One hand came out of his pocket to slice in this air. “This is not the conversation we need to have.”

“Say whatever you want to say.”

His arm dropped to his side in apparent surprise.

He couldn’t understand this new Tam, this Tam who didn’t care. Good. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“I’ve found out what you and Haimon have done.” His hand fisted at his side. “The Drakos clan always sticks together.”

She said nothing.

“In another circumstance, I would applaud this. I appreciate loyalty. But not now.”

The bite of his voice would have once upon a time caused her extreme pain. Now, now that she was free, she heard the words as if they were little wisps of wind.

“You have effectively ruined a year’s worth of work on a patent that held great promise.”

She didn’t think she had. Clearly he knew about the bid, yet he didn’t know everything if he thought this. At another time, she would have offered the knowledge to him as a gift. Still, look at what he’d done with all the gifts she’d given to him over the years.

So she didn’t give him this last gift. She had another one to give him instead.

“You can have the boys.” Brushing her hands across the lace of her dress, she felt nothing. “I’ll sign the papers you brought.”

His mouth dropped open. Then closed with a click. “You don’t want to go to jail,” he sneered. “How quickly you let go of your precious brothers to escape the consequences of what you’ve done.”

Ignoring his contempt, she focused on his words. She’d just escaped one jail, and no, she didn’t want to enter another. However, that had nothing to do with Aarōn and Isaák. The boys belonged in Greece. They belonged with Nephele and the Vounó clan. And even though she hated Rafe now with a fierce passion, they belonged with him too.

He hated her, but he did love the boys.

Her twins would be safe and cared for. Aarōn and Isaák would have everything they needed as they grew into men. Her brothers had been given the best she had and now it was time they spread their wings in a new direction.

It was also time for her to spread her own wings.

“Why should I be surprised?” Rafe’s jeer drew her attention away from her decision. “A Drakos always looks out for their own skin when it comes down to it, right, Tammy?”

The nickname hurt. Stung like a prick of remembered pain. She brushed her hands across her arms. Brushed the sting away. None of this mattered anymore.

Time for Tamsin Drakos to be free. Completely free.

“I’ll sign the papers, but I want a contract saying you won’t go after me legally.”

He eased back on his heels, his arms crossing in front of his chest. “And Haimon.”

Let him think anything he wanted. “Sure. Why not?”

“Don’t be flippant again.” He clenched his teeth. “The attitude doesn’t suit you.”

As if he had any idea what suited her. “I’m not done.”

One long finger tapped on his arm. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I want a plane ticket to London.”

“And let me see…” The finger tapped faster. “Money. You probably want money, too.”

She should. If she were smart, she should ask. Yet her pride rose like a fierce force inside her. “No, I don’t.”

“How could I forget?” He grimaced, his face hard with bitter anger. “You’re going to get a tidy sum from Haimon when that bid comes through.”

He’d eat those words. Eventually. If she had any luck and Viper won the contract. But she didn’t care now and she wouldn’t care then.

Rafe gazed across at her. “A ticket and a contract. Then you’re gone.”

“Correct.” Her heart didn’t flutter. It didn’t burn or cry or sink. Her heart was gone now, burnt to ashes in the fire of her rage.

She was glad.

“All right, Tamsin. We have a deal.”

“
I
wonder
what Tam’s doing.” Isaák’s plaintive voice floated over the family dinner table like a cloud of misery.

“She’s at school just like she wrote in the note she left each of us, idiot.” His brother glared from across the table. “She doesn’t have time to worry about us.”

The heartache in both boys’ words made Rafe itch to leave the table. The only reason he was attending was at his mother’s insistence. During the last month, since they’d returned to Athens, he’d been too damn busy at work to attend any family events at all. Cleaning up the mess he’d created by trusting a Drakos didn’t allow for any private time.

Not that he needed or wanted any private time. Not at this point.

“Boys.” Nephele’s quiet voice came from the head of the table. “I’m sure your sister is busy in London and she’ll call when she can.”

No. She wouldn’t. It had been part of the agreement she’d signed that ugly night a month ago. No contact. Ever. Or at least for the next five years the twins were in his care. She’d signed the form without even flinching. Not even one tear.

Theós
. He’d been the one who’d felt as if he were being ripped apart as he watched her fingers wrap around the pen. He’d been the one who felt as if his world were ending. And it had been he who felt like howling out his pain and torment.

The fact disgusted him, then and now.

Because of the damn emotions running through him at the time, he’d allowed her to write a note to each of the boys. Some nonsense about getting a scholarship in London and having to leave in a hurry.

He’d read both notes while she packed.

“I miss Titus.” Isaák shot a glance down the table, his mournful gaze hitting Rafe right in the gut.

He’d stared through the window as she’d been escorted into the limo, the two security cars following her.

He’d been gutted then, too.

“A dog needs room to roam,” his mother cut in again, a firm tone in her voice. “It’s best he stay in the mountains.”

Titus had been left behind as had Rafe’s foolish feelings for Tamsin.

During the last month, he’d returned to his real life. A life of practical business decisions, of long meetings and hard choices. A life that didn’t include fanciful ideas of love and happiness.

A life that didn’t include the boys.

His mother had made the last point quite…pointedly this afternoon.

Because of that conversation, he was here.

“Tell us about your first week of school, Aarōn.” Rhachel smiled at her nephew, trying to help their mother keep the peace.

Her attempt to smooth the troubled waters fell flat. “It’s okay.” The teenager scowled down at his soup. “For school.”

This from the boy who, two months ago, had poured over the class schedule with Tam, chatting excitedly about each choice he made.

His mother’s gaze landed on him like a torch. A quiet, firm, blazing torch.

All right. He could see there were problems. The boys were unhappy and something needed to be done.

By him.

His mother didn’t have to say the actual words. He got it.

He shouldn’t have abruptly left Aarōn and Isaák on their own so swiftly after Tamsin had exited their lives. He should have been here. Been here to help them settle into the Vounó clan, find their way at school, figure out how to live without the care of their sister.

He got that. He understood his mother’s unspoken censure.

What she didn’t get, or understand, was that he couldn’t. He didn’t have it in him to be around these boys.

He’d always noted the boys’ resemblance to the Vounós, but now every time he looked at Isaák, he saw the arch of Tam’s brows. When he stared at Aarōn, he only noticed the line of his jaw matched his sister’s. When he spent even a moment of time with either of the teenagers, her name inevitably came into the conversation.

The pain was too great.

The memories too heated and hard.

Even now, he felt the howl building inside him, punching up his throat, strangling any words he wanted to say.

“You said you were going to go to my first football game, Rafe.” Isaák peered at him, his dark eyes filled with lingering hope. “It’s tomorrow.”

“I can’t.” His raw throat made the statement too harsh. Still, he couldn’t help it. The howl tied around his vocal chords like a whip. “I’ve got a business meeting.”

Aarōn scoffed, his expression going hard. “Of course you do.”

His twin’s gaze went flat.

The boys hadn’t been like this at first, a month ago. Not angry and resentful as they were at this point. The morning after Tam had left, they’d been startled to hear she was gone, but not overly worried. She’d call. She’d come to visit, they told each other. She’d miss them soon and return for good. Return to kiss Rafe, Isaák had snickered to Aarōn. They had their uncle until their sister came back. With him, they were safe—it was clear this is what they’d thought.

The knowledge had lain like a heavy sludge of guilt over him all month.

After one sleepless night in Sparti, he hadn’t been able to help himself. Not even for the boys could he stay one more day in the house they’d shared. Yet when he’d announced they were returning to Athens, the twins hadn’t complained. They were eager to see their cousins again, excited to start school.

Apparently, things had changed.

Rafe stared at Aarōn and saw the defensiveness, the anger, the fear in his gaze that had been there when he’d first walked into their lives. The look that hadn’t been in the twins’ eyes this summer.

His mother was right.

He’d been neglecting a duty.

For ten years, he’d met every duty, every pledge. For ten years, he’d been the rock his family needed when the storm hit. However, now, with this duty, he couldn’t do it.

The heavy sludge of guilt turned to hardened cement.

Nephele coughed, bringing Rafe’s gaze back to her. “Perhaps something can be arranged.”

Nothing could be arranged to make this pain go away. Nothing his mother or anyone else could do or say would make it palatable for him to be anywhere near the boys.

Not right now. Maybe not ever.

The realization ran through him, bleeding his heart into his soul. Years ago, Tam’s betrayal had scarred him, yet he’d gone on, made a life for himself and his family. This betrayal, this time she’d poisoned him in a way that would never heal.

And the boys were going to pay the price.

“Rafe,” Rhouth laid a hand on his, her warm palm burning his skin. “I know you’ve been very busy, but the boys—”

“Leave it.” He thrust his chair back and rose. Staring at his youngest sister, he remembered the hatred she’d had for Tamsin. Rhouth, of all of them, should be rejoicing that she was gone. Instead, he saw worry in her eyes, a look he remembered from years ago, when Tamsin Drakos had been able to gut him for the first time.

The thought tightened his every muscle and knotted every brain cell.

He’d been stupid once more. This was his fault. This time, though, it wasn’t only Raphael Vounó who was going to pay the price. This time it was his family who was being torn apart. This time it was two thirteen-year-olds who were in his care and who were as lost as he was.

And he couldn’t think of a thing to say or do to make it right for his family or the boys.

He turned away from them. From the worry in Rhouth’s eyes, from the love on his mother’s face, from the sneer on Aarōn’s mouth. He had to figure out someway to make this up to the twins, but at this moment, there was nothing inside him except agony.

“Raphael. Stop.”

Not even his mother’s soft command could stop him from pacing down the hall and into the library. He slammed the door behind him to make sure no one misunderstood.

He wanted to be alone.

He needed to be alone
.

Striding to the window, he put his sweating forehead on the chill of the glass. The cool air of the October night whispered along the edge of the palm trees, waving shadows of moonlight across the terrace. Something he didn’t want to name wrapped around his heart. His broken, defeated, dead heart. He breathed in, trying to push the emotion away.

With no success.

Grief welled inside, clogging his throat and burning his eyes.

He missed her.

He missed his enemy, a woman who’d betrayed him so easily, who’d walked out of his life twice without looking back. The woman who’d torn his heart apart for the second time.

He missed her.

He missed the way her eyes lit when she saw him. The way she swung her blonde hair over her shoulders. He missed her slurred voice as she scolded the boys and the lilt of her laugh as she dipped into the pool. He missed her warmth beside him while he slept and the heat of her welcome when she wrapped her body around his.

Here’s where you took my virginity.

The soft slur of her words slid into his thoughts for the thousandth time.

You took.

His fist tightened on the window sill and just he had before, for the thousandth time, he pushed the thought away.

He missed his enemy. God damn him.

But he still didn’t believe anything she’d said. Thank God.

The door creaked open.

“Go away.” He didn’t shout, yet his words cut through the air like a slice of threat.

“No.”

Rhouth.
Skata
. He couldn’t talk to her. He didn’t want to hear how he was better off without Tamsin, that she wasn’t good enough for him, that she couldn’t be trusted.

He knew all this in his head, but not in his heart.

God damn him.

The door clicked closed.

“Raphael.”

“I said—” he kept his gaze pinned on the moon “—go away.”

“I have something you need to see.”

Turning, he glared at his younger sister. “If it’s about Tamsin being the enemy and Tamsin being a betrayer and Tamsin being—”

“It’s about Tamsin.” She stood her ground in the face of his rage. Her dark gaze didn’t hold hate, though, it held sorrow. Something that nearly crippled him to see.

He was the strong one. He was the big brother.

He was the one who kept everyone together.

His little sister shouldn’t be staring at him like this. Like there was something wrong with him, like she pitied him.

“However, it’s not about anything you mentioned.” Holding a packet in her hands, she lifted it as if offering a gift. “I decided you needed to see these.”

“If it’s about Tamsin, I don’t want to know.”

A frown of determination brought her dark brows together. “You must.”

“Rhouth,” he sighed. Exhaustion flowed through him and he leaned on the cool window, hoping he could stay standing until she left. “There’s no need to talk about her. She’s out of our life for good.”

“What?” The frown turned from determination to puzzlement. “The boys expect her to—”

“You don’t have to show me anything to convince me she was a viper in our nest.” He crossed his arms across his chest, noting with disgust that his hands trembled. “She proved it again and I got rid of her.”

“She proved it again?”

“
Nai
.” He glanced away, not willing to expose his self-disgust while he made his confession. Not until this moment had he ever planned on telling anyone in the family. His hope had been that Tamsin’s memory would fade and eventually, everyone would forget her. Including him. But if this was the only way to silence his sister, then he would do it. “She stole some information from me and sold it to a competitor.”

His sister gasped.

“A month ago I found out and told her to leave or face jail time.”

A stunned silence filled the room.

Forcing himself to look at her again, he gritted his teeth and smiled. “So, you see, you got your wish. She left. For good.”

He’d expected to see triumph covering Rhouth’s face. To his astonishment, her expression screwed into a mask of disbelief. “That can’t be.”

“You of all people say that?” He laughed, a short burst of pain. “You? Who was so sure she’d betray us again.”

“Betray you again.”

The words hit him like pellets from a gun. “And she did. You were right. Can we leave the subject of her alone now? Forever?”

She frowned at the packet in her hands. “No, we really can’t.”

“We absolutely can—”

“I’m sorry.” Lifting her head, she gave him a scowl. “But this is too important and I can’t let you make this mistake.”

“Mistake.” He dropped his hands to his sides and they fisted in frustration. “Anything about Tamsin Drakos is a mistake. I don’t want her name ever mentioned again.”

His sister ignored his taut pronouncement and walked to the green velveteen sofa and sat.

“Rhouth, I swear—”

“Listen.” She pulled a peach ribbon off the packet. “Please listen.”

Rafe stamped down the urge to yell or run from the room. She pitied him enough. He wasn’t going to act the fool and appear to be incapable of dealing with some insignificant detail about a female thief. Folding his arms in front of him once more, he glared at his sister. “Fine. Say what you have to say and then I never want the subject brought into a conversation.”

She slipped a flowery piece of paper from an already-opened envelope. Suddenly, he realized the packet was a stack of a couple of dozen letters. Glancing at him, her eyes filled with tears. “These are from Tamsin.”

Outrage yanked him upright. “She’s been writing to you? She dares to write after what she did last month—”

“These were written ten years ago.”

Blank astonishment stopped him from racing over and ripping the offensive papers out of his sister’s hand. “What?”

“She wrote to me. I told you before, remember?” His sister stared at the letter in her hand. “All the time. For months. I kept every one of them.”

Wrenching his emotions back into a hard grip, he forced himself to lean on the cool window. “Why the hell did you keep the damn letters? And what does it matter what a girl said ten years ago?”

“I kept them because I wanted to remember her and what she’d done to you.” Rhouth glanced at him. “And it does matter. Especially at this point.”