The Greek's Convenient Wife

She nodded.

‘Where?’

‘Interstate.’

‘Which state?’

‘I can’t tell you.’

‘You will tell me, Miss Jones.’ His voice was velvet-covered steel. ‘Even if I have to force it out of you.’

‘I’m not afraid of you.’

‘Are you not?’ Amusement gleamed in his eyes. ‘Then you should be.’

‘Do your worst, Mr Papasakis.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I’m not easily intimidated.’

‘Then I shall have to be very creative and think of an effective tool to bring about your capitulation.’ His smile was deliberately sensuous. ‘Now won’t that be fun?’

She didn’t trust herself to reply. Hatred seethed in her belly until she was sure she’d explode with the effort of keeping it under some semblance of control. She knew enough about him to know he wouldn’t rest until he exacted some sort of revenge, but as long as she had breath she wasn’t going to let him get within a gnat’s eyelash of her brother.

‘Nothing to say, Miss Jones?’ he asked after a tight little silence.

She set her mouth in an intractable line. ‘Get out of my apartment.’

‘Say please.’

‘Go to hell.’

‘Now, now, Miss Jones, that’s not very hospitable of you, is it?’

‘If you don’t leave I’ll scream.’

‘I just love it when a woman screams,’ he drawled suggestively.

Maddison’s face suffused with outraged colour. ‘You’re disgusting.’

‘And you are aiding and abetting a criminal.’

‘My brother is not a criminal,’ she ground out through clenched teeth.

‘You’re living in a fool’s paradise, Miss Jones,’ he warned her. ‘He’s already got a record. One more strike and he’s out—or should I say inside?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she hedged, her cheeks instantly heating.

‘Perhaps you will when I tell you I have proof of your brother’s lawbreaking tendencies.’

She gave him a nervous glance, uncertain whether he was calling her bluff or not.

‘What sort of proof?’

‘The sort of proof which will convict him.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘He was seen on my boat last night,’ he said.

‘So?’

He gave her a hard look. ‘My boat is now at the bottom of Parsley Bay.’

‘I hardly see that someone stepping on to a boat immediately makes them responsible for sinking it,’ she said. ‘Or at least not someone with the small body mass index of my brother.’

‘Very funny.’ His eyes challenged hers.

‘What about fingerprints?’ she asked. ‘Got any of those?’

He held her look for far longer than she would have liked.

‘I’m sure you know fingerprints are a little difficult to find when a boat has been submerged for several hours.’

‘What a shame,’ she said without sincerity.

‘But—’ he deliberately paused for effect ‘—your brother did oblige me by leaving a calling card.’ He took something out of the breast pocket of his shirt and held it up for her to see.

Maddison swallowed.

‘Recognise this?’ he asked.

For endless seconds she stared at the sterling silver surf chain she’d given Kyle for his eighteenth birthday.

‘No,’ she lied.

‘You’re predictable if nothing else.’ He pocketed the chain once more.

‘That chain could belong to anybody,’ she pointed out.

‘Anybody, that is, with the initials KBJ,’ he put in neatly. ‘What does the B stand for, by the way?’

‘None of your business.’

‘While we’re on the subject of names, what is yours?’

‘That’s also none of your business.’

‘I’m making it my business.’

She didn’t care for the implacable threat in his tone but she knew there was little she could do to stop him finding out everything he needed to know and more. He quite clearly knew too much as it was and it made her increasingly uneasy.