British Bachelors: Gorgeous and Impossible: My Greek Island Fling / Back in the Lion's Den / We'll Always Have Paris

Strange how her arms seemed reluctant to lose contact with Mark’s shirt and practically slid the full length of his chest—before the sensible part of her brain took over and reminded her that her agency contract included some rather strict rules about fraternising with the clients.

Lexi tugged down on the hem of her dress and pretended to be straightening her clothing before daring to form actual words.

‘No problem. I prefer not to go swimming fully clothed, so thanks for saving me from a dunking. And sorry about the bag.’ Her fingers waved in the direction of his head.

‘Well, at least we’re even,’ Mark replied, gesturing with his head towards the swimming pool, where her garment bag was floating on the surface and making small glugging noises.

‘Oh, drat,’ Lexi replied and her shoulders slumped. ‘There go two cocktail dresses, a business suit and a cape. The dresses I can replace, but I liked that cape.’

‘A cape?’ Mark repeated, strolling down the patio and picking up a long pole with a mesh net on the end.

‘One of my previous clients started life as a professional magician, entertaining passengers on a cruise ship,’ Lexi replied, preoccupied by watching Mark try to guide the wayward luggage to the side of the pool. Every time he got close the filter pump blew it back towards the deep end.

She winced the second time he almost had it close enough to reach.

‘Fascinating man. He told me he’d kept the cape just in case he ever needed to earn a few dollars. I pointed out that after forty years in Las Vegas the chances of that happening were slim.’ Lexi sniffed and gave a low chuckle. ‘The rascal gave me that cape the day of the launch party for his autobiography. He’d decided that his pension didn’t need boosting after all, and that at ninety-two he might be a little rusty. So we had one final performance. I was his glamorous assistant, of course. He supplied the top hat, plastic flowers and scarves. The full works. Then he patted my bottom and I threatened to cut him in half.’

She grinned. ‘Happy days. It was a great party. What a shame that a vintage cape like that is going to be ruined after all of those years in showbiz …’ Her eyes tracked slowly from the bag across to Mark, then back to the bag again, and she gave a dramatic sigh just to make sure that he’d got the message.

‘Are you always so much trouble?’ Mark asked, rolling up his trousers to reveal a surprisingly hairy pair of muscular legs before descending the steps into the shallow end of the pool and dragging the soggy garment bag onto the side.

‘Oh, no,’ Lexi replied in a totally casual, matter-of-fact voice as she grasped the handle and sloshed the bag farther onto the terrace, to join the other pieces of luggage she had abandoned there. ‘I’m usually a lot more trouble than this. You should be grateful it was the shallow end. But these are early days.’

His reply was a snort and a brief smile illuminated his face. It was the first time she had seen Mark smile, and even in the hot afternoon sunshine she felt the warmth of it on her face. And was instantly filled with remorse.

She paused and focused on her bags before breathing out slowly, eyes down.

It was time. If she was going to do this then she had better do it now and get it over with.

Mark frowned and strolled over towards her. ‘I’m sure you have enough dry clothing to last a few days. Is there something else I can help you with?’

Lexi looked up at him reluctantly and licked her lips, which were suddenly bone dry.

‘Actually, there is one more thing I need to clear up before we start working together. You see, we have met before. Just the once. In London. And not in the best of circumstances.’

She whipped off her sunglasses and hung them over the breast pocket of her jacket, looked up into his startled face.

‘We weren’t formally introduced at the time, but you’d just met my father in your mother’s hospital room and you were rather preoccupied with escorting him out. Does that jog your memory?’

Mark paused, hands on hips, and looked at her. So they had met before, but …?

The hospital. Her father. Those violet-grey eyes set in a heart-shaped face.

The same eyes that had stared up at him in horror and shock after he’d punched that slimy photographer.

‘Get out,’ he said, cold ice reeling in his stomach, fighting the fire in his blood. ‘I want you out of my house.’

‘Just give me a minute,’ she whispered in a hoarse, trembling voice. ‘What happened that day had nothing to do with me. My father is completely out of my life. Believe me, I am only here for one reason. To do my job. As a writer.’

‘Believe you? Why should I believe a single word you say? How do I know you’re not here spying for your paparazzi father? No.’ He shook his head, turning his back on her. ‘Whoever is paying you to come here to my home has made a very grave mistake. And if you ever come near me or my family again my lawyers will be called in. Not to mention the police. So you need to leave. Right now.’

‘Oh, I’ll go.’ She nodded. ‘But I have no intention of leaving until we’ve cleared up some of these facts you’re so fond of. Just for the record. Because I want to make something very, very clear,’ she hissed through clenched teeth as she crammed every piece of clothing she could find from the soaked luggage into her handbag and vanity case.

‘My parents were divorced when I was ten years old. I hadn’t seen my father, the famous Mario Collazo—’ she thumped the cape several times as she stuffed it farther down into the bag ‘—for eighteen years, until he turned up out of the blue at the clinic that morning. He’d begged my mother to give him a chance to make amends for his past mistakes and to rebuild some sort of relationship with me. And like a naive fool—’ her voice softened ‘—no, make that a lovely, caring and heartbroken naive fool, she took the time to talk to him and actually believed him.’

Lexi shook her head and sniffed.

‘She spent years sending me birthday and Christmas presents pretending that my dad still loved me. She mailed him photos and school reports every single year. And this year she’d also let him know that I was waiting for hospital treatment and asked him to come and see us when he was in London. And what did he do?’

Lexi threw her bag onto the patio floor in disgust and pressed a balled fist to each hip, well aware that she was being a drama queen but not caring a bit.

‘He abused her confidence. He took advantage of a caring woman who wanted her daughter to have a relationship with her father. And she never even suspected for one moment that he’d set me up in that particular clinic on that particular day because he already knew that Crystal Leighton was going to be there.’

She lifted her chin.

‘And I fell for his story just the same as she did. So if you want someone to blame for being gullible I’m right here, but I am not taking responsibility for what happened.’

Mark glared at her. Lexi glared back.

‘Finished yet?’ His voice was ice, clashing with the intense fire in his eyes. The same fire she had seen once before. It had terrified her then, but she wasn’t finished yet.

‘Nowhere close. My mum is a wonderful dress designer and wardrobe mistress. It took her years to rebuild her career after my dad left us with nothing. Her only crime—her fault—was being too trusting, too eager to believe he’d changed. There was no way she could have predicted he was using her. Oh, and for the record, neither of us got one penny of the money he got from selling those photos. So don’t you dare judge her. Because that is the truth—if you’re ready to accept it.’

‘And what about you?’ he asked, in a voice as cold as ice. ‘What’s your excuse for lying to me from the moment you arrived at the villa? You could have told me who you were right from the start. Why didn’t you? Or are you the one who’s unable to accept the truth?’

‘Why didn’t I? But I did tell you the truth. I stopped being Alexis Collazo when I was sixteen years old. Oh, yes. I changed my name on the first day that I legally could. I hated the fact that my father had left my mother and me for another woman and her daughter. I despised him then and I think even less of him now. As far as I’m concerned that man and his new family have nothing to do with my life, and even less to do with my future.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ Mark sniped back at her, quick as a flash. ‘You can’t escape the fact that your family was involved.’

‘You’re right.’ She nodded. ‘I’ve had to live under the shadow of what my father did for the last five months. Even though I had nothing to do with it. That makes me so angry. And most of all I hate the fact that he abused my mother’s generous, trusting spirit and used me as an excuse to get into that hospital. If you want to go after someone, go after him.’

‘So you didn’t benefit at all?’

‘We got nothing—apart from the media circus when your lawyers turned up and hit us with a gagging order. Are you starting to get the picture? Good. So don’t presume to judge me or my family without getting your facts straight. Because we deserve better than that.’

Mark pushed both hands deep into his trouser pockets. ‘That’s for me to judge,’ he replied.

Lexi hoisted the suitcases upright, flung on her shoulder bag and glanced quickly around the patio before shuffling into her sandals.

‘I’m finished here. If you find anything I’ve left behind feel free to throw it into the pool if it makes you feel better. Don’t worry about the cases—I’ll see myself out. Standard social politeness not required.’

‘Anything to get you out of my house,’ Mark replied, grabbing a suitcase in each hand as if they weighed nothing. ‘Rest assured that if we should ever run into each other again, unlikely though that may be, I shall not try my best to be polite.’

‘Then we understand each other perfectly,’ replied Lexi. ‘As far as I’m concerned, the sooner I can be back in London, the better. Best of luck writing the biography—but here’s a tip.’

She hoisted her bag higher onto her shoulder and nudged her sunglasses farther up her nose.

‘Perfectly happy people with perfect families living perfect lives in perfect homes don’t make interesting reading. I had no idea you were my client when I came here today, but I was actually foolish enough to hope you’d be fair and listen to the truth. I even thought we might work together on this project. But it seems I was wrong about that. You won’t listen to the truth if it doesn’t suit you. Apparently you’re just as cold, unreasonable, stubborn and controlling as the tabloids claim. I feel sorry for you.’