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CHAPTER ONE MARKOS MAKARIOS STROLLED with a lithe, leisurely gait across the parvis in front of Nôtre Dame. Although it was crowded with tourists, all ogling the stupendous cathedral at the southern end of the wide area, he did not object to their presence. It was good, sometimes, to mingle with the masses. Not, he knew, that it made his security people feel comfortable when he did so. Both Taki and Stelios, discreetly following him, wouldn’t relax entirely until he was safely back in his limo. But the warm September day was far too fine for sitting inside a limo crawling through traffic, Paris obscured by smoked glass, with nothing to do but study the latest communiqués from his direct reports around Europe. The sudden restless impulse to abandon wheeled transport as the limo had gained the Ile de la Cité had been the right one. Besides, he would probably reach his destination on the Ile St Louis faster on foot. Not—he suppressed a flicker of irritation—that he was in any particular h
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO IT TOOK HIM a week to get her to bed. He did not rush it. Indeed, the novelty of her company was such that he savoured the slow, leisurely seduction. Not that she was aware of it—and that, as ever, added its own piquancy. That first afternoon he had taken her to the Musée de Rodin, taking pleasure in watching her make her slow, absorbed way among the works of France’s greatest sculptor. He’d watched her gaze, awestruck, at the famous Le Penseur in the museum grounds, the sunlight playing on the red-gold of her tumbled pre-Raphaelite locks. No sculptor could catch that, he’d thought. Even paint on canvas would be inadequate—stiff and lifeless. Her hair was almost a living thing, and he’d wanted to spear his fingers through it, draw her face towards him, lift her mouth to his, taste the bounty of her parted lips… A leaf had fluttered down from one of the overhanging trees, catching in her mane of hair. ‘Hold still,’ he’d instructed softly. She had halted, half twisting her he
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE THE SNOW WAS crisp beneath Vanessa’s ski boots, the air crystalline in her lungs. She stood at the foot of the piste, gazing anxiously up the steep mountain slope, already shadowing at the end of the Alpine winter’s afternoon. Almost beyond her vision she could see a dot moving, dark against the glittering snow, heading downwards in swift, powerful sweeps. Anxiety bit at her, and she had to force herself to be calm. Markos was a superb skier, she knew that, and he could handle a run of this severity with ease. But her novice eyes saw only the plummeting drop, the deadly rocky outcrops, the hairpin turns. Please let him be all right! The plea was automatic, urgent. If anything happened to Markos she would die. As she watched with bated breath, him drawing closer to her, she found herself wondering yet again how it was that this extraordinary miracle had occurred. How could she ever have thought, the morning she went out to explore Paris for the very first time, that her li
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR VANESSA GAZED OUT over the night. Twenty storeys below, the River Thames gleamed, dark and opaque. She shivered. It was not just the winter’s bleakness—raw and biting in the damp British air—that made her do so. The bleakness was inside her as well. It was because Markos was not there with her. He had been gone longer than she’d thought he would be—well over a week now. And she had counted every day, felt each one like a hard, heavy weight dragging at her. She was missing him badly. There was an emptiness inside her, a dull, raw, sick longing like acid in her stomach, a restlessness that made her pace, now, despite the cold and the late hour, up and down on the roof terrace of his Chelsea penthouse overlooking the river. But the central-heated warmth of the luxurious interior had suddenly seemed too hot, too breathless, exacerbating the sick feeling in her stomach that had been there since she’d come back from Austria, parted from Markos. She halted, hugging her arms aroun
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE CAREFULLY, VANESSA STEPPED out of the limo. Out in the chill of the still wintry night she was glad of the faux fur coat she was wearing over her thin evening gown. But she was only exposed to the elements for the few moments it took for Markos to unfold his long, lean form from the interior and take her arm to walk her into the famous West End hotel, the doors instantly opened for them by the attentive doorman. She’d been to the hotel before with Markos, but tonight they were going to a private party being held in one of the function rooms. It was going to be a lavish affair; Markos had wanted her dressed to the nines, and had even come with her to choose her gown. It was a glittering gold sheath, with a décolletage lower than she was comfortable with but which didn’t seem to bother Markos in the least. Indeed, his eyes had gleamed appreciatively when she’d finally emerged from the ministrations of the stylist, hairdresser and manicurist who had been at work on her for tw
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX MARKOS STIRRED. He didn’t want to get up, but he knew he could not go on lying here with Vanessa in his arms any longer. The only reason he was at the apartment at this hour was to say goodbye to her. He was flying this evening to Melbourne on business, but only for two days, and the trip would be so gruelling he was not going to subject Vanessa to it for such a short time. When he had to, he could do without her. Not that he wanted to. As she lay, head on his chest, hair streaming like a red-gold banner across him, her body soft and warm and exhausted from the delights they had both just experienced, it took a real effort of will to put her aside and get up. She looked at him hazily. ‘Is it time already?’ she asked. He could hear the regret in her voice. ‘I won’t be gone for long,’ he told her reassuringly. ‘I’ll be back by the weekend.’ He twisted round to drop a last kiss on her mouth, before heading to the bathroom to shower. When he emerged she had got out of bed, wrap
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN FOR A LONG moment, there was complete silence. Then, very, very carefully, Markos spoke. ‘Are you pregnant?’ The neutrality in his voice was absolute. But it cost him every ounce of effort. His mind had slammed shut. Totally shut. It was essential. He heard her take a breath. Was it him, or did the breath seem to take for ever? Then—‘No,’ she answered. He felt relief sheet out, like a flash flame through his consciousness. ‘But…’ She was speaking again. ‘But if I were, what…what would…what…?’ ‘But you’re not.’ His voice was flat. Inside, he was nailing something down, very hard, very instant. ‘So idle speculation of this kind is pointless. Especially since you are not going to get pregnant—are you, Vanessa?’ He looked straight at her, into those wide, expressionless eyes. Too expressionless? He felt that thing he’d nailed down so fast, so hard, strain against him, but he ignored it. Instead, he directed every ounce of his mental focus on to what he said next. ‘If you’re c
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT ‘IT’S MRS DIMISTRIS again, Mr Makarios,’ Markos’s PA said apologetically down the line to him as he picked up the phone in his office. An expletive was instantly suppressed. ‘Put her through,’ said Markos grimly. This was not the first time Constantia Dimistris had phoned, but it was the first time he’d spoken to her. Time to get rid of her permanently. ‘Constantia,’ he said levelly, as he was put through. The conversation that followed was neither brief nor pleasant. But it was at least, Markos hoped, effective. In the end he was reduced to bluntness. ‘Apollonia is a lovely girl, but further acquaintance would be pointless. Whatever my father may have led you to believe—and please accept my profound regrets if that is indeed the case—I am not considering marriage. Please, therefore, stop considering me as a prospective son-in-law. Apollonia deserves a man who can give her the devotion that any wife should have.’ Even as he said the courteous words he knew they were, howe
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE THE WORLD SEEMED to stop. She could feel it grinding to a halt in the few fleeting seconds it took for his words to penetrate. And, when they did, the shock she had felt up to then was as nothing, nothing at all. Disbelief, absolute and overwhelming, electrocuted her. Blindly she felt for the back of the chair tucked under the table. Blindly she jerked it out, knowing with an overriding sense of protection for the child she carried that she must, must sit down before she fell down. She collapsed onto it, her heart hammering against her throat, hot and cold washing up and down through her body. The world began to darken around the edges. Instinctively she let her head sink down to her knees, forcing herself to try and take slow breaths. Equally instinctively her hand curved over her abdomen, sheltering the baby within. ‘What—? Vanessa? Vanessa!’ There was fear in his voice, sudden, raw, completely negating the fury of a moment ago. He took two urgent strides towards her and
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN FOR A MOMENT there was silence. Complete and absolute. She could do and say nothing. Then, into the silence, Vanessa spoke. ‘Married?’ Her voice echoed blankly. ‘Of course married! What else did you think would happen?’ ‘But you said you would never marry.’ He gave a heavy, exasperated sigh. ‘Well, obviously I have no choice now, do I? If I’ve got you pregnant I’ll marry you. End of story.’ Vanessa closed her eyes, then opened them again. Then, without a word, she walked into the kitchen and switched the kettle on to boil. Markos followed her, talking to her back. ‘I’ll need to have DNA tests done. I understand these days they can do them before birth. And as soon as paternity is confirmed we’ll get married. How many weeks pregnant are you, and when is the baby due?’ Vanessa did not answer, busying herself with spooning instant coffee into two mugs and fetching milk from the fridge. The mundane physical activity helped to keep her calm. And it was very important that she st
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN VANESSA SPREAD OUT the rug onto the sand and carefully lowered herself down on to it. Her movements were becoming increasingly ungainly, and the heat made her uncomfortable and restless these days. But after a fortnight of baking temperatures the weather had changed, bringing a refreshing breeze off the Atlantic and a shading haze over the summer sun. As she settled a cushion under her and reached into her beachbag for her book, she felt nothing more than pleasantly warm in her loose blouson top and wide, elasticated cotton cropped trousers. She glanced down at the bump. It was far too large now even for modelling maternity wear. Advertisers always fought shy of showing women in the final stages when, no matter how well-designed, no maternity clothes could be flattering, only revealing. In any case, she’d be too tired to do any modelling now. At the time she’d been glad of the opportunity, even if it had come out of the blue via another of the girls who’d modelled the Le
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER ONE LEO MAKARIOS paused in the shadows at the top of the flight of wide stairs leading down to the vast hall of Schloss Edelstein, one hand curved around the newel post of the massive carved wood banister, his powerful physique relaxing as he surveyed the arc-lit scene below with a sense of satisfaction. Justin had chosen well. The four girls really were exquisite. He stood a moment, looking them over. The blonde caught his eye first, but despite her remarkable beauty she was too thin for his tastes, her pose too tense. He had no patience with neurotic women. The brunette beside her wasn’t too thin, but for all her glorious swathe of chestnut hair her expression was vacant. Leo’s gaze moved on. Unintelligent women irritated him. The redhead’s pre-Raphaelite looks were stunning indeed, but they had, Leo knew, already caught the attention of his cousin Markos, under whose protection the girl was living. His gaze moved on again to the final girl. And stopped. His eyes narrowed, ta
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO EFFORTLESSLY, Leo switched from Italian to French, and then into German and English, as he greeted his guests. The vast hall had been cleared of all the photographic clutter, and was now thronged with women in evening dress and men in black tie, and waiters circulating with trays of champagne. ‘Markos!’ Leo switched to Greek and greeted his cousin. A couple of years younger than Leo’s thirty-four, and of slightly slimmer build, his dark slate eyes revealed his portion of English ancestry. Markos was otherwise all Greek. They chatted a moment or two, and Leo cast a courteous smile at the pre-Raphaelite redhead at Markos’s side. She didn’t return the smile. She didn’t even see him. She was gazing at his cousin with a bemused, helpless expression in her eyes, as though Markos were the only person in the universe. A strange ripple of emotion went through Leo. No woman had ever looked at him like that… Would you want them to? The question thrust rhetorically, challengingly. He a
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE LEO strolled down the long carpeted corridor, the two household staff in front of him loaded down with trays. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been to this floor before. It wasn’t the old servants’ quarters in the attic, but nor was it guest apartments. But even if the rooms up here lacked the opulent extravagance of the main floors of the Schloss they were still very comfortably appointed. Just right for office staff or other employees. He wondered idly if the three models were all housed in a row. The redhead, of course, would be with Markos, in one of the lavish suites below. Would the blonde and the brunette have found somewhere else to sleep tonight? he mused. Maybe the brunette was busy adoring Antal Lukacs from close quarters, he though cynically, knowing the conductor’s penchant for females. The blonde, though, had looked far too tense to be receptive to the admiration she had received during the evening. None of them were of any interest to him, however. There was only o
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR ANNA lay in bed. Her heart was still pumping, adrenaline surging through her. She couldn’t stop it. Her whole body was as tense as a board, every muscle rigid. How had it come to this? How? Disbelief kept flooding through her, cold and icy through her guts. The cold emptied through her again, clutching at her with its icy fingers. How, how had it happened? The question went round and round, pounding ceaselessly, tormentingly. How had she let Leo Makarios do that to her? Just walk up to her and start to touch her. And she’d done nothing—nothing! Pathetic. Pathetic. A shudder went through her. She had just let him stand there and kiss her, fondle her, as if she was some kind of…some kind of… She felt anger excoriating her. Anger at Leo Makarios, who had just walked into her bedroom and decided to help himself to her. The anger wired through her nerves. Anger at Leo Makarios. But a worse fury consumed her too. Anger at herself. How could she have succumbed to him like that? L
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE ANNA sat in her wide leather seat in the first class cabin and stared unseeingly at the glossy magazine lying across her lap. At her side, separated from her only by a drinks table, sat Leo Makarios. He was working at his laptop, completely ignoring her. But then, he’d ignored her almost entirely ever since she’d fled from his office, taking on her shoulders the burden of guilt for a crime she had not committed. Accepting the blame for having stolen a priceless bracelet. Accepting the ‘choice’ Leo Makarios had held out to her. But she hadn’t had any other option. She’d told herself that over and over again, like a litany running in her head. She could not let Jenny be sent to prison and have her baby taken from her, brought up in some faraway desert country, where wives were locked up in harems, kow-towing to every male in sight… So I’m going to have to go through with what Leo Makarios wants. There’s nothing else I can do. Yet the enormity of it crushed her. Appalled her.
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX LEO strolled out onto his balcony. The sun was high already, and he was not surprised. It had been a long, long night—but very little sleep had taken place. He stretched in a pleasurable flexing of his shoulders. Thee mou, but it had been good! More than that—it had been mind-blowing. And not just for him. Anna Delane had responded exactly as he had known she would. She’d gone up in flames. White-hot, scorching flames. Again and again—all through the night. Time after time he had taken her, and every time he had drawn from her a response that had had her body shaking, shuddering, had her crying out helplessly, reducing her time after time to exhausted, breathless satiation. She had threshed in his arms, her spine arching, hair wild like a maenad, eyes blind and unseeing as she’d convulsed in the extremity of pleasure, totally, completely possessed by it. It had been intoxicating. And incredibly arousing. There had been something exquisitely satisfying about her helplessly s
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN LEO slewed the Jeep to a halt in front of the villa in the golden light of the westering sun. His muscles ached, but at least his black mood had gone. He’d spent the day on the island’s eastern coast, punishing it out of him by wave-sailing the rough Atlantic swell. He’d thought of doing what he’d done yesterday—inspecting his property developments taking shape on the southern shores—but everything was going to schedule and there was nothing more there to occupy him. Besides, he hadn’t come here to work. He’d come here to relax. Unwind. Enjoy some well-earned R&R with a beautiful woman to warm his bed… His face darkened momentarily as he tossed the Jeep’s keys at one of the outdoor staff and headed indoors. All day he’d deliberately kept Anna Delane out of his head. He didn’t want to think about her. Now he wondered idly how she’d spent the day. Still sulking? A smile twisted at his mouth as he sprinted lithely upstairs. She wouldn’t be sulking for long. He’d make sure of
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT ANNA sat at the little harbourside café, watching the boats at their mooring. This was no flash marina—most of the boats were working boats: ferries to other islands, or freighters, or fishing boats. Opposite her, Leo sat and glowered. Anna was ignoring him—as usual. Looking at anything and everything except him. Sipping black coffee with a stony face. Exasperation swept through him again. She looked a million dollars in that sundress, and yet she’d insisted on buying it herself—and the others in the bags around her feet. Her insistence infuriated him, and he was annoyed at himself for feeling so unreasonably ill-tempered about it. What the hell was she up to, refusing to let him buy her those paltry clothes? As if she were making some kind of point to him. But what kind of point was Anna Delane entitled to make to him? None, that was what. Yet she was as prickly as a hedgehog, trying to make him feel bad when it was she who was the criminal. Leo’s teeth clenched. Why the
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE THE project manager at Leo Makarios’s development complex was telling her about the different kinds of hardwood used in construction of the villas, but Anna was hardly paying attention. She was far too conscious of Leo’s presence beside her—much too aware of his edgy mood—and of her own. Instead of luxuriating in an undisturbed night in her own bed she had slept badly, restless and interrupted. Now she felt heavy-eyed and bleary, but running with a tense energy. Her mood was bleak. A truth was pressing at her that she didn’t want to accept—mustn’t accept. Her eyes slid past the half-constructed villas out over the endless seas beyond, and a hollow misery filled her. Oh, God, how had it come to this? Tossing and turning all night, staring blindly up at the ceiling, unable to find any peace, any repose—all for the sake of Leo Makarios? Her eyes hardened beneath the concealing veil of her dark glasses. She had to fight this—she had to. It was nothing but a sick weakness—a stu
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN ANNA sat in the waiting room. It was cool. Overhead, a fan rotated slowly. Even with painkillers her wrenched arms and shoulders ached. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything. Only one thing occupied her entire being. Leo. She stared at the clock. How long had he been in Theatre? She didn’t know. Knew only that no one was saying reassuring things to her. No one was telling her it was going to be all right. No one was telling her he was going to live. My fault. My fault. My fault. The words tolled through her. Over and over again. As she waited, and prayed. There had been only one other thing she had done since the doctor had discharged her. She had begged the favour of a call to the UK. Across the ocean she had spoken to Jenny, warning her to lie low, that the man who had got her pregnant was prepared to kill for her. She went on staring at the clock. My fault. My fault. My fault. The doors opened. A doctor came out in Theatre garb. He came up to Anna, loosening hi
CHAPTER TEN
EPILOGUE ‘WHAT would you say to having our wedding right here on the island?’ Leo asked Anna as they walked along the beach towards the villa, barefoot in the silvery sand. He’d been out of hospital for a week now, and though his gait was slower than normal he was well on the way to a full recovery. And every day, and every night, Anna gave thanks to all the powers that be for his safety. She loved him so much she thought her heart would overflow and burst. She cherished him and fussed over him and cosseted him. It was a daily miracle to her that he had forgiven her for nearly getting him killed, for lying to him about having stolen the rubies, for having so stupidly, idiotically, kept on denying that he had only to touch her to melt every bone in her body. And he kept feeling so bad about the way he had treated her when he’d thought her a thief—so completely different from the way he was treating her now. Cosseting her as if she were made of porcelain. Cherishing her and fussing over
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE MIRANDA paused and looked behind her, then she slowly turned a full circle. This was a big mistake because the slow beat of panic which had been curling inside her stomach for the past hour mushroomed into full-blown fear as she was forced to contemplate her complete isolation. She had no idea where she was. She had no idea where she was going. All sense of direction had been lost as she had skied rapidly away from the avalanche straight into a blizzard that was now making forward progress laborious and uncertain. And, to make matters worse, dusk was beginning to permeate the great white amphitheatre which had always seemed so gloriously free and now appeared terrifyingly hostile. She whimpered and found that she was having to make an effort to remind herself that she was an expert skier, had been doing it for twenty-two of her twenty-five years. She could more than handle the challenge of the black runs. With the snow whipping like pellets against the parts of her face whi
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO THE room was warm. That was the first thing Miranda noticed when she next surfaced. A warm room and she was changed. Her eyes flickered open and for a few seconds she experienced the disorientation that sometimes attacks when the surroundings are new and unfamiliar. Then her memory returned with a crash and the image of Luke’s dark, striking and unpleasantly cynical face filled her head. It was as though the thought had been enough to summon him, because just at that moment her bedroom door was pushed open and she saw the object of her wandering mind filling out the doorway, with a tray in his hands. Sleep had not managed to diminish his suffocating masculinity. In fact, she literally drew her breath in as he dwarfed the small room, primitively forceful despite the tea towel slung over his shoulder. ‘So you’re up at last.’ He moved across to the curtains and yanked them open, exposing a watery grey light and the sight of fast-falling snow. ‘Breakfast.’ He deposited the tray
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE NOR did she. In fact, she thought, all she wanted to do was clear out of this wretched cabin and get back to London. At any rate, it was what she firmly told herself. And she was only forced to confront the truth when, after three days of ferocious blizzard, Luke returned from his daily log-chopping exercise and announced that the sky was beginning to look a little healthier. ‘What does that mean?’ Miranda looked up from the computer and frowned. ‘It means, Your Highness, that our friendly blizzard might be going away.’ He sauntered over to the fire and removed his jumper. This time, he removed his tee shirt as well, which was soaked. He had his back to her, and Miranda watched, mesmerised, at the movement of muscle beneath skin as he bent slightly to warm his hands. ‘Don’t call me that,’ she said automatically, while her mind struggled to function. ‘Sorry.’ He half turned to her and grinned with wicked amusement. ‘You were telling me about the blizzard,’ she said hurried
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR AFTER the warmth of the cabin, magnified a thousand times by the heat induced by the wine, outside was a shock to the system. Miranda felt her face tingle as the cold slammed against it; then she gradually became acclimatised and tentatively edged her way further outside, like an invalid trying to walk unaided for the first time. The snow was still falling, but already she could detect its lessening force. She had told her father on the telephone that morning that she would be back home within days but, even when she had said it, home had still seemed a distant place. It didn’t seem quite so distant now that she was outside and could see the dramatic clearing of the weather. Luke had gone ahead of her, towards the small shed, and she followed in his direction, clumping through the drift in her ski boots and only feeling the very faintest of twinges in her ankle as a reminder of her accident. ‘How does it feel?’ he asked, with his back to her, as he surveyed the pile of une
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE ‘MIRANDA!’ Miranda’s head shot up. ‘What on earth is the matter with you?’ ‘Nothing!’ She gazed down at the large breakfast which she had optimistically dished out for herself. Bacon, eggs, toast, marmalade. The toast lay limp and half eaten. The bacon and eggs were pristine and untouched and slowly congealing into an unappetising mass on the plate. Her father was still peering at her over the rims of his slim reading glasses with his newspaper lowered. ‘Why aren’t you eating?’ he demanded. He abandoned the newspaper altogether and afforded her the full brunt of his undivided attention. He was a tall, slender man with perfectly silver hair and blue eyes the same shade as his daughter’s. Right now, he was dressed in his golfing garb. Every Saturday morning for as long as she could remember, her father vanished to the golf course where he played a round of eighteen holes with the same three friends who had been around since his roaring university days a million years ago. ‘S
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX MIRANDA drank some of her wine, a taste for which she seemed to have developed ever since her stay in the cabin, and eased her feet out of her pumps. It was imperative that she take the upper hand and not let Luke Decroix try and manoeuvre her in her own home territory. But, when she stretched out to place her wineglass on the table in front of her, she found that her hand was trembling and she hurriedly folded her arms across her chest and looked at him coldly. ‘Why,’ she asked in a controlled voice, ‘are you here really? What are you doing with my designs? And what have you told my father?’ ‘Which question do you want me to answer first?’ ‘I don’t care. Just so long as you answer all of them and then get out of my father’s house and out of my life.’ Instead of answering, though, Luke sat back in his chair and contemplated her over the rim of his glass. He took a leisurely sip of his drink, carefully placed his glass on the table next to him and then linked his fingers tog
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN THREE weeks later, she could barely remember what had led her to assume that their business arrangement would involve him appearing on her horizon on an occasional basis only. What she had not expected was to have him around, all day, most days, hovering over her shoulder like a guilty conscience while she liaised with the various builders, instructing them what to do. Whenever she bent her head to inspect some aspect of her designs so that she could discuss them with Tom, the architect, his dark head seemed to be next to hers, examining the same piece of paper, asking questions, discussing, pointing out small improvements or alterations on the original design work. He appeared to have nothing of greater importance on which to focus and it was slowly driving her crazy. He was the constant thorn in her side, never giving her enough space to distance herself from him. And, consequently, their business arrangement, which she had optimistically assumed would kill off all feel
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT SO WHAT did that mean? That he wanted her? Wanting had a time limit that love didn’t have, she dismissed categorically for the hundredth time. Wanting was fine when that was what both partners in the game agreed to, but when the scales were top heavy, wanting became a liability. That was just the sort of equation that led a woman to feel desperate, and Miranda had never felt desperate in her life before. She frowned and stared at the samples of tiles in her hand. It should have been peaceful this past week, working in the safe knowledge that Luke was far away in another country, but she missed his intrusive presence. She missed the way her heart lurched whenever her radar picked up the sound of his car pulling up on the drive outside the house, and that keen feeling of light-headed anticipation as she heard his footsteps getting closer. She missed those wayward conversations that always seemed to sneak like a thief into their normal business discussions, and the little as
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE SHE only began to realise when, on Monday morning, she arrived at the house to see his car parked outside. She had anticipated an hour or two, at least, of relative calm before he made his appearance. Normally, he dropped by. She had never actually arrived to find him fully installed. Miranda slowly edged her way out of her car and walked quickly towards the front door, her books of fabric and wallpapers clutched like a barricade in her arms. He said he wanted speed and, accordingly, she would make sure that as many of the soft furnishings were chosen in the course of the week as possible. That way, she could begin the process of farming out the orders for curtains and spreads; and, with any luck, she might even be able to arrange with the decorator to start painting and wallpapering the rooms that were already finished. She heard voices before she entered the house. The distinctive sound of Luke’s deep, commanding voice intermingling with Tom’s slightly higher far more pl
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN ‘SOUNDS like he’s gone.’ Luke lazily relaxed into his chair with a triumphant smile. ‘So much for your rescuer. He couldn’t wait to run away when the going got a bit tough. You’re going to have to do a bit better than that, you know. There’s nothing worse for a budding relationship than for the man to feel that his woman is the aggressor. Call me old-fashioned but I happen to think that the healthiest relationships are the ones where the man can consider himself the protector. Now, why don’t you sit down?’ ‘Call me old-fashioned, but I happen to think that breaking and entering is an offence. And I am not going to sit down!’ ‘You sounded a little worse for wear when you came in. Haven’t been out drinking, have you? Weak men find it very easy to take advantage of a woman when she’s drunk.’ ‘I am not drunk!’ ‘No? Well your face looks a little flushed considering you’re not drunk.’ ‘I’m flushed with outrage! What are you doing here and how did you get in?’ Miranda continued to
CHAPTER TEN
EPILOGUE
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