The Apollonides Mistress Scandal / Rich Man's Vengeful Seduction: The Apollonides Mistress Scandal / Rich Man's Vengeful Seduction

“I’ll find my way from here. You don’t have to come any farther.” Then she closed her eyes as she replayed her own words and waited for him to point out that he hadn’t come. Yet.

“I will walk you to your unit.” His voice was colder than winter. “The sooner your contract ends and you leave Strathmos, the better for both of us.”

“I’ll leave tomorrow,” Gemma blurted out, her eyes stinging. “Leave me alone. I don’t want your company.”

Once inside her unit, Gemma flipped the kettle on with hands that trembled, and blinked away the tears that blurred her vision. Feeling utterly wretched, she craved a mug of camomile tea to soothe her shattered nerves while the aftershocks of their terrifyingly passionate encounter quaked through her.

She couldn’t stay.

She would leave Strathmos tomorrow, catch the first ferry out—even if it meant breaking her contract and putting her professional reputation on the line. She could not do this.

Never had it crossed her mind that she would melt under Angelo Apollonides’s touch, press her body up against his, encourage his kisses. He was a suave playboy. No one knew better than she.

Oh, God. How had she gotten herself into this fix? Distraught, Gemma speared her shaky fingers through her hair.

She needed to get a grip. Fighting for control, she tried to think analytically about what had happened out there, under the cold stars. Okay, so she’d provoked him. Intentionally. But she hadn’t expected him to react so fiercely, to move so quickly. His cool eyes, his mocking smile, his legion of beautiful cookie-cutter lovers had indicated Angelo wasn’t a man given to impulse. That devastating kiss—and what had followed—stunned her.

He was far more dangerous than she’d ever known.

When the kettle clicked off, she reached into the cupboard for a mug and poured boiling water over the teabag. Why had she risked all the ground she’d made by provokinghim? What had she hoped to gain? What was it about Angelo that made her itch to disconcert him? To prove to him she wasn’t the woman he thought he was?

Cradling the mug between her hands, she propped her elbows on the bench top. The photo at the end of the bench top mocked her.

Setting her tea down, she picked up the photo. It looked like such an idyllic family. Mum and Dad flanking their smiling, all-grown-up daughter against a backdrop of lovingly tended rosebushes. Tears pricked again. Gemma craved a dose of her mother’s kind common sense. Checking her watch she calculated that in New Zealand it would be morning. She picked up the handset from the wall and punched in the familiar number of her childhood home.

“Hello?”

Despite the distance her mother’s voice was clear and familiar.

Gemma swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s me, Mum.”

“Sweetheart, I’m so glad you’ve called. I’ve been worried sick about you!”

“I should’ve called sooner.” Gemma had known her parents were worried. She’d been avoiding their concern. “But you know I had to come.”

“Yes.” Her mother’s voice held a touch of resignation. “Has it helped?”

The grief counsellor had supported Gemma’s determination in the face of her parents’ objections. Closure came in strange ways. And that’s what this trip was about, closure. “I don’t know. Mum, I’m so confused.” Gemma thought of Angelo’s effect on her, how he only had to touch her to send her up in flames and gulped. “Sometimes I feel like I’m losing my mind.” But tomorrow that would end. She would leave…and never see Angelo Apollonides again. It was for the best—even if it meant she’d never know the truth…

“How is Dad?”

“Fine.”

“No, I mean, how is he handling my coming to Strathmos? He was very upset when I left.”

Her mother sighed. “He’s worried. And it’s opened up the memories about your sister’s death. He’s afraid of what might happen to you.”

“Tell him I’m fine…and I love him.”

“He’s gone back to therapy. The doctor says he’s over the worst of the depression. For him, like you, the hardest part was not knowing why Mandy died.”

“Double trouble, that’s what Dad used to call us.” Staring at the photo, Gemma searched the face of her twin for answers. Mandy had died, unhappy and lost. But no one knew why. Only Angelo could provide the answers that would let her father—and Gemma herself—find a little peace.

Closure.

That’s what they all needed.

And that was why she could not tell Angelo to go to hell and walk away. Cold seeped in, chilling her all the way to her soul.

She could not leave tomorrow.

“Oh, sweetheart. Come home.”

“I can’t.” Her lips barely moved. “I have to find out what happened to Mandy. For all our sakes. Then we can get on with our lives.”

“Oh, Gemma. Your sister wouldn’t want you to suffer like this, she’d want you to remember the special times you had together.”

“I know. But I need to understand what happened to her…what this bastard did to her and why she reacted like she did. Dad and you need to know, too.”

“Your father and I don’t want you meddling with this man.” Her mother’s voice was anxious. “He’s wealthy, powerful. He could hurt you.”

Like he hurt Mandy.

Gemma knew what her mother was thinking. But the words remained unspoken.

“Mum…” Gemma’s voice trailed away. She thought of what had just happened between her and Angelo. If her parents knew about that…they’d be on the next flight out to rescue her.

“Have you spoken to him? What did he say?”

Reluctant to admit that she hadn’t confronted Angelo about Mandy’s death, and even more loath for her mother to discover that Angelo believed she was Mandy, Gemma spoke in a rush. “I wanted to find out what kind of man he is first.”

“And what kind of man is he?”

Compelling. Passionate. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“Gemma, be careful.” The sigh came over the miles. “You’re not Mandy. Chasing after trouble was her speciality, not yours. You were always the sensible one, Gemma.”

Her mother was right, Mandy had always been a little…wild. Taking Gemma’s passport and credit card to Strathmos and assuming Gemma’s identity was only one of the pranks Mandy had played.

Oh, Mandy, what happened on Strathmos?

Gemma couldn’t help thinking about the familiarity in the Frenchman’s tone earlier, his easy kiss. She remembered Angelo’s hard gaze, the coiled tension in his muscled body. She remembered the taste of his mouth—hot and seductive against hers—the thrill of his body pressing into hers and her pleasure as she came apart under his touch.

Once again confusion and turmoil wrestled within her. God! How could she teach the bastard the lesson he deserved if she desired him?

And how could she face him again?

Gemma squeezed her eyes shut. How on earth could she have reacted like that to the man who had destroyed her sister?