A glass of water appeared in front of her and she went to wave it away, but a soft female voice urged, ‘Drink; it will help.’ And she looked up to find herself staring into the kindest face she had seen here tonight. Older than herself, the woman was smilin
g encouragingly. Jemma took the glass, but her fingers were shaking so badly that she couldn’t drink from it, and the woman closed her own warmer fingers around Jemma’s and gently helped the glass to her lips. She was glad she was there, glad because her elegant figure effectively blocked Jemma off from the rest of the room, and glad because it meant she did not have to concentrate on the man squatting in front of her.
A few tentative sips at the cool water, and Jemma felt her rocked senses begin to settle. She smiled her thanks at the woman and let her take the glass from her.
‘Jemma—’
‘Don’t speak to me!’ she flashed.
The woman looked surprised as though she couldn’t believe anyone would dare speak to Leon Stephanades in that tone. ‘You have found your ideal match, I see,’ she drawled mockingly to Leon.
‘More than my match,’ he said with a tight forced smile. ‘She beats me with her broomstick twice a week.’
‘Be careful I don’t decide to turn you into a snake!’ Jemma snapped.
The woman laughed, and so did Leon, but there was a moment’s angry flash in his eyes that said he had more than understood her acid meaning. Then he sighed heavily and lowered his gaze to where he had his hands clenched between his bent knees.
‘You bastard,’ she whispered threadily.
‘I know,’ he acknowledged quietly.
The doctor arrived just then, slicing through the tension in the room by briskly ordering everyone out—except for Leon, who straightened to shake his hand then moved stiffly to stand behind the long sofa Jemma was sitting on. He was a short, stocky man, Greek to the marrow in his bones, but his grasp of English was superb, and it was only as he flashed a series of comprehensive questions at her that Jemma realised hardly anyone present tonight had spoken in Greek.
Maybe it would have been kinder for her if they had, she concluded as she suffered the usual physical examination with Leon’s sharp eyes on her looking for the smallest sign of discomfort. Understanding nothing would have left her sublimely ignorant to what was going on.
Instead, she had heard all, and now knew all. Leon had married her for one reason only. She conveniently suited his urgent requirements.
And it hurt, hurt so much that she couldn’t even look at him without feeling ravaged.
‘Right,’ the doctor said firmly, removing his stethoscope and shoving it into his little black bag. ‘You will be p