Smokescreen Marriage

For a moment there was silence and a heart-stopping stillness, then he sighed harshly, and turned away. He picked up a towelling robe from a chair and tossed it down to her.

‘Put this on,’ he directed curtly. ‘You will find it safer than a sheet.’

As she obeyed hurriedly, clumsily, he went on, ‘As you have just discovered, I have a temper, thespinis, so do not provoke me again. I have never taken a woman in anger in my life,’ he added grimly. ‘I do not wish you to be the first.’

She wrapped herself in the robe, tying the sash with shaking fingers.

He came to the side of the bed and took her chin in his hands, forcing her to look up at him.

He said quietly, ‘The mind can play strange tricks, pedhi mou. But I swear I did not share your bed last night. Because if I had done so, you would have remembered, believe me.’

For a fleeting moment, his hands cupped her breasts through the thickness of the robe, his touch burning against her skin, making her nipples harden in sudden, painful need.

She heard herself gasp, then she was free, and he had stepped back from her.

He said, ‘I am going to dress. Then you will join me for breakfast.’

She found the remains of her voice. ‘My—clothes…?’

‘My housekeeper took them to be laundered—after she undressed you last night.’ He allowed her to absorb that. ‘They will be returned to you after you have eaten.’ He paused. ‘Shall we say half an hour?’

And left her, staring after him, her bottom lip caught painfully in her teeth.

As she slid down into the scented bubbles of the bath, Kate was almost tempted to go one stage further, and drown herself.

Since the moment she’d opened her eyes that morning, she’d behaved like a crazy woman. But now she was sane again, and hideously embarrassed to go with it.

Oh, God, what had possessed her to hurl those accusations at Michael Theodakis? she asked herself despairingly.

Well, she supposed it had been triggered by him strolling in, next door to naked, and behaving as if it was an ordinary occurrence. As it probably was to him, but not to her…

She stopped right there, her brows snapping together.

What on earth was she talking about? Working as a holiday rep she encountered men far more skimpily clad every day, and had never found it any kind of problem.

So, why had she over-reacted so ludicrously? It made no sense. She bit her lip, as the realisation dawned that it was nothing to do with the way he’d been dressed—or undressed, and never had been.

It was Michael Theodakis himself who’d rattled her—sent her spinning out of control.

From the moment she’d seen him, she’d been on edge, aware of him in a way that was totally outside her limited experience. She’d been on the defensive even before he’d addressed one word to her.

And the dream, she guessed miserably, had simply been a spin-off from being carried upstairs in his arms. Maybe some humiliating form of wish-fulfilment.

So, she’d behaved like an hysterical fool and, in turn, been treated pretty much with the contempt she deserved, she thought, wincing.

She should have stuck to Plan A and just left quietly. After all, she could always have rung the apartment and got Lisa to bring her a change of clothes.

Lisa…

Kate groaned aloud. Until that moment, she hadn’t spared her flatmate a thought. And anything could have happened to her.

This, she thought forcefully, is not like me.

Overnight she seemed to have turned into a stranger—and a stranger she didn’t like very much.

In spite of her red hair, she’d always been cool, levelheaded Kate, and she wanted her old self back. Michael Theodakis might be a devastatingly attractive man with a powerful sexual charisma, but that did not mean she had to go to pieces when she was around him.

Polite, grateful and unreachable. That was the way to handle the next half hour. The only way.

And then she would be gone, not just from this hotel, but from Greece too, and she would never have to set eyes on him again.

She dried herself and reluctantly donned the towelling robe again, knotting the sash for extra insurance. It masked her from throat to ankle, but it didn’t inspire the confidence her own clothes would have done, and she needed all the assurance she could get, she thought wretchedly.

She combed her hair with her fingers, and emerged reluctantly into the bedroom, steeling herself to walk to the windows.

Outside, a table had been laid, overlooking the sea. And here Michael Theodakis was waiting, leaning against the balustrade in the sunlight.

Kate drew a deep breath, stuck her hands in the pockets of the robe to hide the fact that they were trembling, and went out to join him.

He was wearing shorts, which showed off those endless legs, she observed waspishly, and a short-sleeved polo shirt, open at the throat and affording a glimpse of the shadowing of body hair she’d already had plenty of opportunity to observe.

He said quietly, ‘Kalimera—for the second time. Or shall we erase the events of the past hour, which do credit to neither of us, and pretend it is the first?’

‘Yes.’ Kate looked down at the tiled floor, aware that she was blushing. ‘Maybe we should—do that.’

‘At last,’ he said. ‘We agree on something.’

She hastily transferred her attention to the table, set with a jug of chilled fruit juice, a basket of crisp rolls, dishes of honey and dark cherry jam, a bowl of thick, creamy yoghurt, a platter of grapes, apricots and peaches, and a tall pot of coffee.

She forced a smile. ‘It all looks—delicious.’

‘Yes,’ he said softly, a quiver of amusement in his voice. ‘It does.’

She found she was trembling suddenly, hotly aware that he was still looking at her, and not the food.

‘Please sit down,’ he went on, and Kate moved round the table, choosing a chair that would be as far away from him as it was possible to get, without actually jumping off the terrace. And she might even try that if all else failed.

‘I hope you found your bath soothing,’ he said silkily, as he poured the juice into glasses, and handed her one.

‘Yes,’ Kate said. ‘Thank you.’

‘But perhaps a body massage might be even more relaxing,’ he went on. ‘If you would like one, you have only to ask.’

Kate thumped an inoffensive bread roll on to her plate.

‘How kind of you,’ she said grittily. ‘But I’ll pass.’

He smiled at her. ‘It was not a personal offer, thespinis. We have an excellent masseuse at the health spa, who comes highly recommended. But it’s your decision.’