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‘I’m worried about him,’ he said. ‘I want to see him safe with Sofia Allessandros.’
There seemed to be meaning in his words. Theo frowned.
‘This woman of his? A pillow-friend, nothing more. He won’t marry her, if that’s what’s worrying you!’
The dark eyes snapped and Milo’s mouth thinned.
‘Young men are foolish!’ He fixed Theo with a piercing, uncomfortable look. ‘You would have made such a foolish marriage…’
The accusation hung in the air. For a moment Theo stilled. Then, with a deliberate shrug of his powerful shoulders, he said, ‘Well, you and my father soon sorted that out, didn’t you? And that other “minor complication” it involved!’
The accusation had been returned, and Milo felt it. His eyes snapped again. ‘Don’t take that tone! We did what was necessary. A woman like that—you should be grateful!’
Theo stilled again. ‘Grateful.’ The word fell heavily from his lips.
A harsh, impatient rasp sounded in the old man’s throat.
‘Money showed her true colours! It always does with women of her stamp!’
He shifted restlessly in the chair he was sitting in. Pain flickered briefly in his face. Theo saw it. Pity filled him. The past was gone—his grandfather and his father had done what they had thought best, by their lights. And they had been right, he knew. Money did show true colours. And he was grateful, just as Milo said he should be. Grateful to have had his illusions shattered.
Illusions were always dangerous. In business, and in bed.
Theo had no illusions any more. Never again. He knew what he wanted from women now. It was simple, pleasurable—and painless. As for taking a wife—no. No matter how much Milo pressurised him to continue the family name, he knew he would never trust a woman with his happiness again.
‘Sofia will make Demos a good wife. You know that.’
Milo’s voice brought him back to the problem in hand.
Yes, Sofia Allessandros would make Demos a good wife. She had been groomed from childhood to be the perfect wife for a rich man. And, like every well brought up Greek girl, she was as untouched as the morning dew.
Theo’s brow darkened briefly. The image of Demos’s lovely young pillow-friend slid into his mind, lush and enticing. Tempting men from their duties, their responsibilities—their families.
As if reading his thoughts, Milo spoke again.
‘Demos won’t look twice at Sofia while he’s got a mistress to warm his bed.’
The grim look returned to Theo’s face. Leandra’s lush body swayed in his vision.
‘That one would warm any man’s bed!’
His grandfather’s eyes narrowed. ‘Yours, Theo?’
Theo gave a rasp of denial. But Milo hadn’t built a business empire from scratch without being able to read men’s thoughts. He gave a sudden rough laugh.
‘Well, that would be one way of removing the obstacle!’
Theo’s mouth set in a thin line.
‘I was thinking of something a little more basic.’
His grandfather gave that rough laugh again. In his time, Milo Atrides had kept mistresses by the score.
‘Nothing is more basic than sex,’ he said bluntly.
‘Except money,’ corrected his grandson. He looked straight at Milo. ‘That method never fails. You, of all people, should know that.’
If his grandfather heard the bitterness in his grandson’s voice, he ignored it. He had done what he had had to do. The woman had been a danger to his family. As this one now was.
‘Yes,’ he agreed, relaxing back in his chair. ‘Money’s a good method.’
Theo nodded.
‘I’ll take care of it. She’ll be out of his bed in a week!’
Leandra frowned in concentration. ‘Can you just give me my cue again please, Demos?’
‘Of course.’
He smiled obligingly, but Leandra could see that his eyes were troubled. The morning’s interview with his grandfather had been painful, she knew. She felt so sorry for him. In the weeks she’d spent at his apartment she’d grown to like this young man who came from such a totally different world. Their only link was Chris. Why did his family keep trying to arrange his life for him? It was bad enough his grandfather pressurising him to marry—now even his cousin was joining in!
His cousin was totally unlike Demos, she mused. With Demos she felt safe and comfortable. With Theo Atrides she’d never feel safe or comfortable. She gave an inward shiver.
Then, resolutely, she turned back to the page. Demos was kindness itself in agreeing to help her learn this fiendishly difficult part. It would bring neither fame nor fortune, but it was a privilege to have been chosen for it. The Marchester Festival, highly specialised though it was, had an excellent reputation. Besides, the effort of learning it helped to take her mind off Theo Atrides.
And she needed all the help she could get. He was haunting her. She couldn’t get him out of her mind. His hooded eyes were vivid in her brain, looking her over—setting her body on fire…
He intruded everywhere, even in her dreams. Which was ridiculous—she would never see him again. He’d go back to Athens with his grandfather, admit defeat over Demos, and that would be that.
He would admit defeat, wouldn’t he? After all, in the end there was nothing either Theo or his grandfather could do to force Demos to marry Sofia Allessandros. All Demos had to do was stand firm.
Would Sofia mind being rejected by the man she was expecting to marry? No one seemed too concerned about her wishes in all of this!
‘Demos,’ she heard herself asking, ‘are you sure Sofia won’t be upset that you won’t marry her? It sounds like she’s spent her whole life assuming you will.’
He looked away uncomfortably. ‘I can’t help it, Leandra. You know I can’t marry her. For me to do so would be to wrong her grievously.’
She bit her lip. Carefully, she said, ‘Can’t you tell her why? And your family?’
Demos’s face shuttered. ‘Do not ask that of me,’ he answered. There was anguish in his voice, and guilt—Leandra could not press him. He had burdens of his own to carry. One day he would be able to set them down, but not now, she knew. He was not ready.
Instead, she asked another question.
‘Demos, when is your grandfather likely to go back to Athens?’
The shadowed look in his eyes intensified.
‘I am not sure,’ he admitted. ‘Theo wants him to see a Harley Street specialist while he is in London.’
‘Oh. Then what would you like me to do? What would be best?’
‘If you would be kind enough to stay here I would be most grateful, Leandra.’ There was entreaty in Demos’s voice.
She smiled reassuringly. ‘Of course, if that is what you want. I can hardly complain about the standard of my accommodation! I’m in the lap of luxury here! And I’m happy to help out if there’s anything I can do. There’s a saying in English—in for a penny, in for a pound!’ She tapped at the page of her script with a grin. ‘But I’ll drive a hard bargain, my young Greek millionaire! Back to work!’
He pored over the words with her, heads together. Suddenly she gave a laugh. Her amber eyes gleamed wickedly.
‘Oh, if your cousin could see us now! He’d never believe it! Never!’
Remembering the look of unveiled contempt in Theo Atrides’s eyes as he looked her over like a piece of sex-trash, she felt a sharp sense of satisfaction.
It was a beautiful day, even for central London. The mild, sunny autumn weather was still holding. Leandra swung down the Edgware Road, her body pleasantly tired and stretched from her dance class in Paddington. Acting was hard work. London heaved with struggling actresses, and competition for parts was fierce. Still, acting was what she had always wanted to do, and her very staid parents had been happy enough for her to work it out of her system—as they’d been sure she would within a few years.
Her eyes shadowed, grief showing in them briefly. Their death in a coach crash on holiday had been so sudden, so brutal. Even now, nearly two years later, the memory was like a knife in her breast.
Chris had been so kind to her, proving a true friend, taking her under his wing and looking after her while she was raw with grief and shock. No wonder she hadn’t hesitated when he had asked her for a favour for Demos.
The blare of a car horn made her jump. The Edgware Road was clogged with traffic, and she was still quite some way from Demos’s Mayfair apartment. She made an inward grimace. She would miss that fabulous apartment all right! Going back to her tiny studio flat on a noisy road south of the Thames—all she could afford at London property prices, even with the legacy from her parents—was not something she was looking forward to. For the first time she could understand why women would agree to exchange their self-respect for such a luxurious lifestyle.
Her amber eyes darkened. That was exactly the kind of woman Theo Atrides thought her—that much was obvious. The kind who latched on to men just because they were rich! Not for the first time she felt a stab of anger at him. Oh, she would love to see him eat his words! ‘Delicious morsel of female flesh’ indeed!
She should not have recalled them to mind. For with them came an image of the man saying them—tall, powerful, those dark, heavy-lidded eyes making her stomach flip over slowly, oh, so slowly as her legs turned to jelly…
Someone brushed past her on the crowded pavement. Automatically she moved to one side, and then, just at the same time, someone brushed her from that side as well. She glanced either way, frowning suddenly. London was safe enough on the whole, if you were sensible, but muggings happened all the time. She clutched at her shoulder bag more tightly, but even as she did so she felt her body crowded from both sides.
It happened so quickly. One moment she was being hustled on the wide pavement and the next, in broad daylight, on a busy London road, two men had caught her by either elbow, pulled her forward and then, before she could scream, she was being thrust into the gaping interior of a huge black-windowed limousine that was suddenly there, pulled up at the kerb. The door slammed behind her. Her head was tilted forcibly back, a pad pressed over her nose and mouth. Her eyes flared in terror and then, as the drug sucked into her gasping lungs, fluttered helplessly shut as consciousness drained away.
‘Well, did he tell you how long I’ve got?’
Milo’s voice was harsh, but Theo could hear the exhaustion in it. Milo was tough, but age was finally taking its toll.
‘Six, maybe nine months. A year if you are spectacularly fortunate.’
Theo did not mince his words. He would not be thanked if he did.
Milo’s eyes gleamed fiercely. ‘Hah! Long enough to see a great-grandson on the way!’
Theo looked out of the window of the chauffeur-driven limo. They were nosing down Harley Street. Traffic was bad. Rush hour was all around them.
He did not answer his grandfather. Instead, he said, ‘He wants to put you on a different drug regime. Says it could buy you time. He wants to start you straight away, but he’ll need to monitor you for a week or two to see how you respond. You don’t need to be in hospital. So I’ve taken the suite for another fortnight. I’ll stay with you, naturally.’
His grandfather gave a rasp. ‘Not in that damned hotel, you won’t! And neither will I. We’ll stay at the apartment. I want to see more of Demos anyway!’
Theo frowned. ‘The girl is still there. I haven’t had a chance to buy her off yet!’
Milo gave a harsh laugh.
‘Save your money. She’s been dealt with.’
Theo’s head swivelled.
‘I said I’d handle it—’
‘Well, I’ve saved you the trouble. And my way was a whole lot cheaper! And more certain.’
‘What do you mean?’ Theo’s words were slow, filled with foreboding. ‘What have you done?’
Milo looked at his grandson with grim satisfaction.
‘She’s gone,’ he said. ‘She was in the way, so I had her removed.’
Cold snaked down Theo’s spine.
‘What…exactly…have you done with her?’
Milo gave another harsh bark of laughter.
‘Don’t look at me as if I’d had her murdered! She’s perfectly safe. Sunning herself on a beach.’
Theo’s brows drew together.
‘She agreed to go on holiday?’ He sounded sceptical.
‘I didn’t waste time asking her. I just sent her!’
The cold snaked down Theo’s spine again.
‘You sent her? How? Where?’
‘How? I had her picked up and packed off. I had a tail put on her when she left Demos’s apartment this morning. She was put in a car, kept quiet, driven to an airfield and that was that. Don’t look at me like that, boy! I’m not incapable yet! I know agencies who will do such things and be discreet about it!’
But his grandson was staring at him with an appalled look on his face.
‘Are you telling me,’ he said, his voice hollow, ‘that you had her abducted?’
Milo made a testy noise in his throat. ‘I had her removed! That’s all! She’s perfectly safe—I told you!’
A word escaped Theo that was not in polite usage.
‘Where?’ he demanded urgently. ‘Where is she, Milo?’
His grandfather gave his harsh laugh again.
‘So eager to find her?’ he jeered. ‘Maybe you do want to replace Demos between her legs!’
Theo ignored the crude jibe. The cold had spread from his spine through every part of his body. Had Milo gone insane? Had he really had a British citizen abducted from the streets of London and flown out of the country?
‘Where is she?’
