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Whereas she—she was strangling in this bloody sheet.
‘Which does not matter when I am here alone, as I usually am,’ he went on.
‘But last night,’ Kate said, her voice shaking. ‘Was different.’
‘Of course,’ he said softly. ‘Because you were here.’ He paused. ‘I have ordered breakfast to be served to us on the terrace. Would you like me to run a bath for you?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I think I’ve had enough personal services for one lifetime. Like being undressed and put to bed last night.’
‘You could not do it for yourself.’ He made it all sound so reasonable, she thought in helpless outrage. ‘You were barely conscious, pedhi mou.’
‘I’m aware of that,’ Kate said between her teeth. ‘And I am not your little one.’
He frowned slightly. ‘You have had a shock,’ he said. ‘But it is over now, and you have come to no harm.’
‘Perhaps I don’t see it like that.’ The sheet was slipping, and she hitched it up, anchoring it with her arms. A gesture that was not lost on him.
There was still laughter in his eyes, but that had been joined by another element. Something darker—more disturbing. Something she had glimpsed in those dark, heated hours in the night, but did not want to recognise again.
Yet, at the same time, she realised that she had to confront him—had to know. Had to…
‘Then how do you see it?’ The dark eyes moved over her in frank assessment. He was enjoying this, she thought, her anger mounting. ‘Maybe we can reach a compromise.’
Kate drew a shaky breath. ‘I’d prefer the truth. Did you come to this room during the night.’
‘Yes. I came to check that you were all right. So did the housekeeper, and also the hotel doctor. It was quite a procession,’ he added drily.
She swallowed. ‘But you were also here alone.’
He frowned. ‘I have said so.’
She touched her dry lips with her tongue.
‘Did you—touch me?’
There was a silence. Then, ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘I did not mean you to know, but I could not resist. Your hair looked so beautiful spread across my pillow. I had this irresistible desire to feel it under my hand.’
She stared at him. ‘And was that all—your only irresistible desire, Kyrios Theodakis?’
He sighed. ‘There was a tear on your cheek. I brushed it away.’
‘And then you left,’ she said. ‘Is that what I’m supposed to believe?’
The dark eyes narrowed. He said softly, ‘What are you trying to say?’
Kate bit her lip. ‘Where exactly did you spend the night, Mr Theodakis?’
‘This is a suite, Kyria Dennison. There are two bedrooms. I slept in the second. And I slept well. I hope you did too,’ he added courteously.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I didn’t. I had the strangest dreams.’
The dark eyes narrowed. ‘The effect of the drug, perhaps.’
‘Perhaps,’ she said. ‘But this was such a vivid dream. So realistic.’
‘You are fortunate,’ he drawled. ‘I rarely remember mine.’
‘I’d give a hell of a lot,’ Kate said stormily, ‘not to remember this one.’
‘You interest me.’ He was frowning again, his eyes fixed watchfully on her flushed face. ‘You can describe it to me over breakfast.’
‘I don’t want any breakfast,’ she hurled at him. ‘And I certainly don’t want to eat with you. Because I don’t believe it was a dream at all—you unspeakable bastard. Any more than I believe you spent the night in another room.’
His brows lifted. ‘You’re saying this dream involved me in some way?’
He sounded politely interested, no more. But there was a new tension in the tall figure. A sudden electricity in the room.
‘Yes, I am. I’m saying you—used me last night.’
“‘Used”,’ Michael Theodakis said musingly. ‘An interesting choice of word. Do you mean that we made love?’
Kate’s voice shook. ‘I said exactly what I meant. And you took a filthy advantage of me. Oh, you’re so damned sure of yourself,’ she went on recklessly. ‘So convinced that you’re the answer to any woman’s prayer. I expect you thought I’d be honoured—if I ever remembered.’
‘So let us test this memory of yours,’ he said softly. ‘Tell me, agapi mou, exactly what I did to you.’
She said defensively, ‘I can’t recall the actual details.’
‘But was it good for you?’ He sounded almost casual. ‘You must remember that. For instance, did you come?’
Kate gasped, colour flooding her face. ‘How dare you.’
‘But I need to know. I would hate to think I had disappointed you in any way.’ He walked slowly towards her. ‘Perhaps I should—jog your memory a little.’
‘Keep away from me.’ Kate shrank back.
‘But why?’ There was danger in his voice. He bent lithely, retrieving one of the pillows from the floor. Tossing it on to the bed beside her. His smile did not reach his eyes as he looked at her. ‘When we have already been so close—so intimate? And this time, my beautiful one, I will make sure that you do not forget—anything.’
His hand snaked out, hooking into the folds of linen tucked above her breasts, and tugging them free, uncovering her completely.
Kate gave a small wounded cry, and turned instinctively on to her side, curling into a ball, and sheltering her body with her hands from the arrogance of his gaze, as humiliated tears burned in her throat.
‘Why so modest?’ His tone lashed her. ‘According to you, there is nothing that I have not already seen and enjoyed.’
‘Please,’ she managed, chokingly. ‘Please—don’t…’
‘But I am an unspeakable bastard, agapi mou,’ he said softly. ‘So why should I listen?’
She couldn’t think of a single reason, huddled there on his bed, her breath catching on a sob.
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.’
