Читать книгу A Devious Desire - JACQUELINE BAIRD, Jacqueline Baird - Страница 7

SAFFRON fell back on the bed and felt the full weight of his huge body follow down on top of her; she tried to lift her knee, but Alex wasn’t the sort of man to be caught twice. His naked thigh pushed firmly between her legs, and as she tried to claw at his face his hands caught hers and pinned them either side of her head.

‘You damned hellcat,’ he swore. ‘Yesterday you got lucky. For the first time in twenty-odd years you caught me off guard. But it was also your last, sweetheart. It is time someone taught you a lesson, and I am just the man to do it.’ His deep brown eyes had darkened to black and the flame leaping in their depths sent fear scudding through Saffron’s body.

‘Says who——?’ Her last word was all but swallowed by his mouth once more closing over hers, his tongue gaining entry to the moist interior with devastating results. Suddenly she was conscious of his naked thigh between her legs, her short nightie rucked up somewhere round her waist; his towelling robe had fallen open and their lower bodies were naked flesh on flesh…Her breasts pressed against his muscular chest, hardened with inexplicable need and straining against the fine cotton of her nightgown.

To Saffron’s dismay, heat fierce and totally unexpected flooded through her veins. Her heartbeat accelerated like a rocket, and the kiss she had fought so furiously turned into a passionate seduction of her senses. She was aware of his powerful, virile body through every pore in her skin. His heavy thighs moved restlessly against her slender limbs, and something else…

Well, I certainly did not injure the man yesterday, she thought wildly, just as Alex’s mouth left hers, and she burst into terrified hysterical laughter.

‘What the hell…?’ His dark head reared back and he looked down into her flushed, laughing face. He let go of her abruptly and stood up.

Whether he recognised that it was fear more than humour that had brought on her hysterical reaction Saffron didn’t know; she only knew that, with a savage glance at where she lay tumbled on the bed, he snarled, ‘Cover yourself, woman; I’m not caught that easily,’ and pulled the sheet up over her.

Caught? What did he mean? She gazed up at the dark figure towering over her, and all trace of hysterical humour left her. He was virtually naked; his robe, hanging loosely off his broad shoulders, hid nothing of his magnificent body, or his obvious state of sexual arousal. Her earlier fantasy was fulfilled. His powerful body was tanned all over, except for a pale strip across his lean hips! Mesmerised by the stark beauty of his virile form, she could not look away…

‘Remember, you’ve been warned,’ Alex said coldly as unselfconsciously he folded the robe over his chest and knotted the belt around his waist. ‘Now I suggest you do what you were supposedly hired for and look after Mother.’ And with that he strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Saffron lay where he had left her, completely shellshocked. Nothing in her life so far had prepared her for such a lightning attack on her senses. Her body still pulsed with unfamiliar heat, her breasts felt heavy, the tips aching for she knew not what, and the lingering scent of Alex hovered in the air around her, seducing her even in his absence.

It was incredible—no, impossible, she told herself. She did not like the man, and yet for an instant she had wanted him in a shockingly sexual way. She who could count the men she had kissed on the fingers of one hand!

Slowly, as her breathing reverted to normal, she justified her reaction. It must have been a mental apparition; her response was not real, just a figment of her imagination. She was twenty-five years old and knew herself well enough to realise she was not a sexual person. Two unfortunate events in her teenage years had quickly squashed any real interest in the male sex.

At the age of ten she had lost her parents in a car crash and, left alone in the world, she’d been placed in an orphanage. It was quite nice, the staff friendly, but it could never make up for the loss of her home in Surrey and her parents. She had been thirteen, her body beginning to develop, when one of the older boys had caught her and forced her to the ground, his hands grabbing at her breasts. But Eve, her friend, had stopped him.

Saffron sighed and swung her legs off the bed. A soft film of moisture glazed her eyes as she stood up, remembering the past. Eve, two years older than Saffron, had been her best friend at the orphanage. Even after she’d left, she’d still called back occasionally to see Saffron. Eve’s untimely death not many months ago had affected Saffron deeply; she still wasn’t over it. She brushed the moisture from her eyes and headed for the en suite.

Memories were best left where they belonged—in the past. She stepped out of her nightie and into the shower; turning the tap on full force, she tossed her head back and let the reviving water wash over her.

The sensible thing to do was to pack in her job as soon as the boat docked and return to England. She would miss Anna, but common sense told her that the older woman would have no problem getting someone else to fill her role, and if she stayed she would have a problem with Alex Statis. He was a powerful, dangerous man, and he made no secret of the fact that he thought she was after something from his mother. It would be difficult; she had given up her room in the apartment she had shared with two others, Tom and Vera, and they had been quite happy to see her go as they had decided to marry, and quite naturally preferred to have the place to themselves. She supposed she could stay in a hotel or hostel until she found somewhere else, but it would certainly cut into her business fund, she realised sadly. Then she recalled once more Eve’s last message to her.

You have it all, Saffron—the looks, the character and the expertise to make it on your own. Not like me. I was born a loser. Promise me, Saffron, you won’t let some bastard of a man get at you. Stick to your dream. Start your own business, be your own boss. Do it for me. You show them.

Squaring her shoulders, a new light of determination in her lovely green eyes, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Wrapping a large fluffy towel around her slender body, she walked back into the bedroom. She would not allow Mr Statis to frighten her out of her job. Anna had employed her. Anna was happy with the arrangement, and in any case once they got back to London she would not have to see the man. But her salary for the next few months would be enough to fulfil her dream. Ten minutes later, neatly dressed in navy shorts and a plain white T-shirt, she opened the door of Anna’s suite.

‘Oh, you’re awake!’ Saffron smiled at her employer, sitting propped up in bed, her glance going to the tray beside her. ‘And already at the coffee, I see,’ she chided gently; if Anna had one weakness it was that she drank far too much coffee.

‘Yes, my dear. I received the same service as you, apparently. Alex delivered it.’

Saffron felt the colour rise in her face. Anna certainly had not been attacked by the great brute as she had! Walking to the dressing-table, she busied herself with the case that contained her oils and other supplies. Trying to hide her blush, she said, ‘Would you like me to order breakfast or would you prefer a shower and massage?’

‘The massage, but make it quick. I have been instructed by Alex to meet him on the deck for breakfast at nine-thirty, and I don’t dare argue. I have already wasted three days of his time, he informed me.’

‘Wasted!’ Saffron’s temper rose at the comment. ‘Surely it’s his own fault? We were perfectly all right on the Pallas Corinthian. This was his idea.’ She flung out an arm, gesturing around the luxurious room.

‘Well, not exactly. I have a confession to make.’

Saffron spun round to stare at her charge.

‘You see, dear, we always cruise in June for a week or so. But with Alex being in Australia and not sure when he was coming back I decided I wanted to cruise on my own…well, with you. The poor boy arrived in London last weekend and didn’t know where I was and so he spent three days tracking us down, instead of working. Ordinarily I would have joined the yacht at the weekend along with Alex and the rest of the relatives.’

‘If that’s so, why are we moving now?’ Saffron glanced out of the window at the vast expanse of clear sunlit water. ‘We could have waited in port for the other guests and your son could have stayed at work.’

‘That’s my fault. I insisted we set sail straight away because I was frightened that with a couple of days in port you might change your mind and go back to England. I know what a pain my son can be, and I didn’t want to lose you. This way you can’t get off the boat and I’ve told Alex he has got to make friends with you.’

‘Why, you conniving lady,’ Saffron opined, with a wry shake of her red head.

‘Yes, but you know my secret. In any case no one can do my hair or make-up as well as you. Not even me when I was fit,’ Anna said with blunt honesty.

An hour later Saffron put the finishing touches to Anna’s hair and then followed her along the passageway down the companionway, through the staterooms and through large glass doors to the poop deck where Alex was waiting for them.

It had been dark last night when they had arrived, but Saffron had been awed by the luxury of the cabins, the elegant main lounge and equally stunning dining-room, but the deck was something else again. Under a plain white awning were arranged three plump-cushioned long sofas covered in William Morris shades of blue and green printed cotton satin, a couple of over-stuffed armchairs and one large low table plus a handful of smaller ones discreetly stacked beside one of the potted vine trees that dotted the area. Beyond the seating area, on the open deck, was a circular swimming-pool. Through the sparkling water Saffron saw the outline of dolphins patterned in the tiles; the effect was as if they were swimming in the pool and completely magical. Around the pool was scattered a dozen sun-loungers, and a few more tables with gaily patterned beach umbrellas in the centre.

How the other half live! Saffron thought, bemused. She had realised Anna was wealthy, but it was slowly dawning on her that Alex Statis must be extremely rich. No wonder he was worried about his mother being ripped off by some unscrupulous companion. But it still gave him no right to suspect her, she thought grimly. He didn’t know her, and was never likely to. She was way below his social circle and she knew it.

Subdued, Saffron sat down in one of the armchairs, avoiding looking at where Alex lounged elegantly on a sofa opposite. But to her surprise breakfast was a pleasant meal. The same steward who had shown her to her cabin the previous evening placed a wide variety of cereals, croissants, bread and accompanying confections on the large table, along with jugs of coffee, tea and various fruit juices, before asking if anyone wanted a hot meal.

The conversation was general. Saffron made an occasional comment but after a while she left mother and son to do most of the talking, content to admire her surroundings. It was early June, and the hot morning sun sparkled and danced on the deep blue sea, dazzling on the brilliant white of the boat. Paradise must be a lot like this, Saffron mused as she spread thick honey on a second warm croissant. Heaven help her weight if she kept eating like this…

‘Is that all right with you, Saffron?’

She jumped at the sound of her name, her glance flashing between the other two. She felt that some comment was expected of her, but hadn’t a clue what had been said.

‘Tell her again, Alex,’ Anna said with a grin.

Saffron reluctantly looked across at Alex. He was lounging casually back on the sofa, with his long legs stretched out in front of him. His hard, dangerously masculine body was briefly clad in a sleeveless black T-shirt that moulded his broad, muscular chest in loving detail. A pair of white shorts exposed his long legs, tanned to a golden bronze and rippling with muscles. He was all male, all-powerful, and he made her head spin…

‘We will be arriving in Mykonos in a couple of hours. Mother wanted to see the island again, but she does not feel up to going ashore in the tender.’ He hesitated and Saffron raised her eyes to his questioningly.

‘She suggested I take you.’ His sensuous mouth curved mockingly, his dark eyes raking suggestively over her slender frame. Saffron felt the colour rise in her face at his double entendre, before he added slowly, deliberately, ‘For a few hours.’

The lazy smile, the long body stretched out only feet from her were having a totally alien effect on her. She opened her mouth to say no, but was horrified at the odd constriction in her throat. She swallowed hard.

‘Yes, of course she will,’ Anna answered for her. ‘Mykonos is not to be missed.’

‘I don’t know,’ Saffron heard herself murmur; she knew intuitively that being alone with Alex Statis represented a danger she was not sure she could handle.

‘Of course you will, dear,’ Anna insisted.

Saffron glanced across at Alex; the amusement in his eyes was obvious; he knew she wanted to say no, and was daring her to…‘Yes, that would be lovely,’ she heard herself gush, and missed the flicker of cynicism in Alex’s dark eyes.

‘Good. Well, if you will excuse me, ladies, I have work to do.’ Rising to his feet, Alex smiled gently at his mother. ‘Round one to you, Mama.’

His austere features relaxed in a genuine smile that took years off his age and, though his comment puzzled Saffron for a brief second, she saw the man behind the ruthless mask. She sucked in her breath, her green eyes wide with wonder; he looked almost beautiful. But as he glanced briefly at her the tenderness vanished, to be replaced by a glittering predatory glow that turned his deep brown eyes almost golden.

‘I’m looking forward to showing you Mykonos. I want to see your reaction to the place.’

A frisson of some nameless emotion slid down her spine. Fear! No. Anticipation of a day out, Saffron told herself sternly, nothing more! She refused to acknowledge her inexplicable violent attraction to Alex. ‘I’m sure it will be delightful,’ she offered with a cool smile, but had to turn her head away to stare at the sea. In her mind’s eye the sight of him standing so tall and broad, scantily clad in shorts and shirt, was doing something very peculiar to her breathing.

Saffron stood leaning on the ship’s rail, Anna beside her, as they watched the crew lower the gangway and the boat that in a few minutes would take Alex and herself ashore. The island of Mykonos looked everything Anna had told her as they had lounged around the boat all morning, relaxing and chatting.

The yacht had dropped anchor in the bay of Mykonos Town, and the view was spectacular—sparkling white houses, the blue-topped domes of the small churches the place was famous for dotted among them, along with the impressive row of windmills, six marching in a line along the horizon. Tearing her gaze away from the beauty before her, Saffron tried once more to persuade Anna to accompany them.

‘I’ll help you down into the boat, Anna. You will be all right, I promise. It seems a terrible shame for you to miss going ashore.’

‘Rubbish! I can see all I want from here. Don’t forget, Saffy, I have been here countless times.’

‘Well, if you’re sure.’

‘Positive. I want you and Alex to forget about me and don’t come back until you have seen the sunset from Little Venice.’

Before Saffron could reply Alex was at her side. She glanced up at him and her heart jumped. He had changed from the morning into a pair of navy shorts and a navy and white patterned silk shirt, and he looked devastatingly attractive.

‘Ready, Saffron?’ He drawled her name like a caress, sending tingles down her spine. ‘Got your bathing suit?’ he demanded, his dark eyes gleaming knowingly down into hers. He knew exactly how he affected her and obviously found it amusing.

‘Yes,’ she said frostily, swinging her beach bag, and would have preceded him down the gangway but a hand on her arms stopped her.

‘Gentlemen first in this instance, then if you fall I am in front of you to prevent a hasty descent into the sea,’ he explained, before releasing her arm and stepping on to the ladder.

The small boat reached the shore in minutes. A hire car was waiting for them and moments later they were speeding out of the town and into the countryside.

‘I thought we were going to see the town,’ Saffron prompted, a bit miffed that Alex appeared to have a different idea.

‘We will later; first we will drive around the island, go for a swim maybe. There are some magnificent beaches. One or two nude ones if you prefer.’ He shot her a wicked sidelong glance.

‘No way,’ she snapped back.

‘Why not? It will be nothing we haven’t seen before after this morning.’

A telling tide of red suffused her face as for a second she saw in her mind’s eye Alex as he had been that morning in her room—almost naked.

Alex laughed out loud at her obvious discomfiture. ‘OK, you win; bathing suits it is.’

It was like a day out of time for Saffron. After that one bit of teasing in the car Alex set out to be charming company, and Saffron found her antagonism vanishing in a puff of smoke.

They lunched on succulent fish on a bed of rice and fresh vegetables, at a small cafe alongside an almost deserted beach. Afterwards they lingered over their wine, and eventually strolled along the beach.

She found Alex an informative and amusing conversationalist as he told her something of the island’s history. Apparently not that long ago it had been just another tiny Greek island inhabited by shepherds and fishermen. But the stylised form of building all white with the distinctive blue touches had been seen as so picturesque that a crafty local had decided they should cash in on the tourist trade. Now it was extremely popular with all the cruise liners, but was never overrun, simply because the bigger ships could not dock. The only way ashore was by tender.

By mid-afternoon the sun was much stronger in the sky and Alex suggested that they rest for a while. From the small duffel bag he was carrying he withdrew a towel and spread it on the golden sand, and Saffron followed suit, cautiously laying her own towel a foot away from his.

‘Spoilsport,’ he murmured as casually he slipped out of his clothes and stood before her clad only in tiny black swimming-trunks that left little to the imagination.

Saffron gulped and dragged her gaze away from such a blatant display of sheer masculine perfection. He might be nearly forty, she thought, but not a spare inch of flesh marred his tall, muscular frame; he had the body of a man in his prime, and she was beginning to wonder at the wisdom of being alone with him.

‘Race you to the water,’ Alex challenged, and she had to look up at him.

‘You go—I’ll catch you up.’ She needed a couple of minutes alone to still her erratically beating heart. She watched as with a casual nod he turned and began to run down to where the turquoise water met the silvery sand. He was as enticing from the rear as from the front, his broad tanned back tapering down to gorgeous lean hips and long, muscular legs. God! What was she thinking of? In a rush she slipped off her plain denim skirt and the neat short-sleeved shirt she had worn over her swimsuit.

She glanced down at herself, and wondered if the suit had been such a good idea. She had bought it for the cruise, thinking it was more conservative than a bikini, but now she had grave doubts. In jade-green, it was a simple figure-hugging Lycra suit with high cut-away legs almost to her waist, strapless and slashed straight across her breasts. Suddenly she saw just how provocative it was. How come she had never noticed before? she groaned silently, but it was too late to do anything about it now, and, taking a deep breath, she ran down and into the water. She could see Alex’s head bobbing in the distance; he was a magnificent swimmer, but she had a sneaky suspicion that he was the kind of man who would do everything magnificently.

Saffron did not bother to try and compete; she could swim but was no great shakes, so she stayed near the shallows and floated for a while, enjoying the soothing stroke of the water against her sun-warmed flesh. Occasionally she glanced at Alex, who appeared to be heading determinedly towards an outcrop of rock that to Saffron looked miles away. He swam with a rhythmic determination that she could only marvel at. Slowly, with a sigh—it wasn’t disappointment at Alex ignoring her, she told herself firmly—she made her way back to shore.

Collapsing flat on her back on the towel, allowing the sun to dry her, she closed her eyes. The hustle of the past two days, the food and wine at lunch, and the warmth of the sun all combined to make her fall asleep.

‘Saffron!’ She woke up with a start, for a moment completely disorientated and wondering where she was. Alex was leaning over her, his body damp, drops of water glistening on the dark hair of his chest and taut, flat belly. He frowned down at her. ‘Don’t you know it is the height of stupidity to fall asleep in the sun?’ His hand reached out and with one finger he traced the soft curve of her breasts revealed by the straight bodice of her swimsuit. ‘This flesh is far too fair and tender—you will burn,’ he opined huskily.

‘Alex,’ she murmured dazedly; his touch was doing unreal things to her pulse-rate. She wanted to ask him if he’d enjoyed his marathon swim, but he was quite openly studying the soft swell of her breasts, his finger tugging lightly on the taut fabric, lowering it slightly. She shivered as his finger dipped down almost to the crest of one breast. She knew she should object, but had not the will to stop him, hypnotised by the sensual gleam in his eyes and his throatily voiced comment.

‘So silky and voluptuous. A perfect combination.’

He smelt of sun and sea and sky and a lingering masculine scent that was all his own. He moved, and she felt the length of his leg move over her thigh, entrapping her slender limbs, as his dark head lowered, blocking out the sun.

‘Saffron…’ he rasped. ‘You drive me mad.’ And deep down inside her Saffron felt something spring to life— a matching madness. Perhaps…

She knew she should move, get away, but instead her tongue licked nervously over her suddenly dry lips as she anticipated his kiss. The hot brush of his lips over hers made her gasp; his hand cupped the round fullness of her breast and gently squeezed as his mouth moved more determinedly against hers, his tongue thrusting inside, arousing a response in her that she had never experienced with any man before. She felt his instant reaction, his length hard against her lower body, and he broke the kiss with a groan of frustration.

There was no ‘perhaps’ about it, she thought helplessly as, wide-eyed and trembling, she stared up at him. He looked dark and threatening, his eyes narrowing as they scanned the pale oval of her face.

‘God, Mama has surpassed herself this time!’ he exclaimed almost angrily. ‘How old are you, Saffron— nineteen? Twenty?’ His fingers deftly readjusted the top of her bathing suit, and his leg slid off her body so that he was lying on his side. Propped on one elbow, he stared down at her with an expression of disgust twisting his harsh features. ‘I must be crazy,’ he muttered.

Finally finding her voice, Saffron responded in what she hoped was a steady tone. ‘Flattered though I am, I happen to be twenty-five, almost twenty-six.’ And why he should mention his mother she had no idea…

‘Thank God for that. I don’t seduce young girls.’

‘And you’re not seducing me.’ Saffron sat up abruptly, shoving at Alex’s chest so that he fell on to his back. ‘I think it’s time we left here; I’ve had enough sun for one day,’ she babbled as it sank into her bemused mind just where his question about her age was leading.

A strong hand curved around her shoulder as she tried to stand up. ‘Wait, Saffron. I know we started off on the wrong foot yesterday, though you have to admit that was not solely my fault. But we are two consenting adults; surely we can be sensible about this?’

Saffron turned her head to gaze down at Alex. His deep brown eyes were fixed on her face, the residue of passion still lingering in their depths. ‘Sensible?’ she queried.

‘Yes. I want you, more than I have wanted a woman in years.’ He cast a rueful glance down his long body, and Saffron’s eyes followed his and then quickly looked away. The man had no shame, she thought furiously; he was quite blatantly aroused. ‘It’s been a long time since a woman has got me this way so easily, and I think we should explore the possibilities. I know you want me—you tremble every time I touch you. So how about it?’

It was the very matter-of-fact way in which he stated his case that infuriated Saffron. Springing to her feet, she looked down at where Alex lay. He looked like some basking killer shark, about ready to devour its prey. And she was it…Snatching up her towel, she shook it over his supine form, covering him in sand. ‘In your dreams, buster!’ she scoffed and, grabbing her clothes, she stormed off down the beach, his deep laughter ringing in her ears.

Of course five minutes later she had to walk back, but at least she was fully clothed, she told herself. Just let him try anything else and she would flatten him, she vowed.

‘Perhaps I didn’t put that in quite the most flattering of terms,’ Alex began as he pulled on his shorts and slipped his shirt over his broad shoulders.

‘I am not interested in any of your terms, Mr Statis,’ Saffron responded stonily. ‘Now, can we leave? I did want to see the town of Mykonos—that’s what we came ashore for. Not your sleazy suggestions.’

Alex shot her a quizzical glance. ‘“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” You wanted sex as much as I did, only you’re not prepared to admit it,’ he told her casually as he caught her hand. She tried to pull free, but Alex, with one glance and a dry, ‘Don’t be childish,’ quelled her revolt and side by side they walked back to the car.

Saffron was determined not to speak to him again, and on the drive back she kept a stony silence. Eventually, when they arrived in the town, Alex turned to face her and said quietly, ‘OK, I apologise. Truce, pax, friends…’ and held out his hand. ‘I promise, no more teasing.’

Saffron felt the colour scorch her cheeks. What a fool she had been; twice in one day she had melted in his arms, while to him it had been a huge joke. Calmly she put her hand in his and agreed, and she told herself she was not disappointed. Of course Alex could not seriously want a girl like her. His own mother had told her he had women galore.

Soon the charm of the town, and an apparently reformed friendly Alex, swept the earlier episode on the beach to the back of her mind. No one could fail to be delighted with the tiny streets, and the windmills that even Alex didn’t know the reason for. Finally, as the sun began to sink lower in the sky, he led her to Little Venice. The buildings were right on the edge of the sea and the upper storeys hung out over the water in marvellous timber balconies. They walked up a tiny winding flight of stairs to a delightful bar which Alex insisted was the best on the island, with a perfect view of the sunset and classical music in the background. Sitting by the window at a tiny table for two, Saffron had never experienced anything so romantic.

‘What would you like to drink, Saffron?’ Alex asked quietly; it was as if even the great Alex Statis was affected by the atmosphere.

Saffron turned glowing green eyes on his rugged face. ‘Anything—you choose. This is just perfect.’ She could not contain her delight and, stretching out her hand, she touched his arm fleetingly. ‘Thank you for bringing me here.’

‘The pleasure is all mine.’ Alex smiled back, and for an instant Saffron could only stare; his dark brown eyes gleamed with a rare tender warmth, and the effect on her senses was electric.

The waiter arrived with a whisky and soda for Alex and some fabulous red concoction for Saffron, with an umbrella and a sparkler burning in the glass.

‘Cheers,’ she toasted Alex as she removed the sparkler and took a sip. ‘I said “anything” but I didn’t expect to get a flaming potion.’

They laughed together, and then in unspoken accord turned their attention to the view from the balcony, as the sun turned to brilliant scarlet and slowly sank towards the horizon.

The music changed and Saffron recognised it immediately; the opera was a secret passion of hers. ‘Rossini—my favourite composer!’ she exclaimed. ‘The overture to The Thieving Magpie, I think.’

‘You like his overtures?’ Alex’s dark eyes lingered over her fine features, taking note of the mass of hair that rivalled the sunset in its colour.

‘Yes, I adore them,’ she said, slightly uneasy at his unwavering scrutiny. ‘I have quite a collection.’

‘Yes, I can see why. You’re a romantic and as impetuous, pulsing and sometimes as abandoned as Rossini’s music. It’s all there in your cat’s eyes and your magnificent hair—your passionate nature.’

Saffron was about to deny his reading of her character angrily, then realised that what Alex had said about the music was true. Did her love of Rossini disguise an impulsive passionate nature? The thought worried her… She was here on a Greek island with a man she hardly knew…And, lost in her own thoughts, she barely heard his cynically murmured comment.

‘Let’s hope the title does not accurately reflect you as well.’

She glanced warily across at Alex; his dark eyes caught and held hers. For a long moment the sunset, the surroundings disappeared; they were the only two people in the universe, and something deep and compelling seemed to flow between them.

‘You agree with me,’ Alex husked softly, and she did not think he was talking only about the music. She forced herself to look away and, picking up her glass, drained it, making no response. She couldn’t…she was terrified. After one day with Alex, a few kisses and now a glance and a simple observation on her choice of music, the man had made her recognise her own sexuality in a way she had never considered before. She had always thought of herself as a passionless sort of girl, if not frigid. Sex and romance played no part in her life. With a sense of shock she realised that the be-all and end-all of her life for years had been her burning ambition to succeed on her own. She had no close friends, except perhaps Eve, who was now dead…

She turned and gazed at the sea; the Statis yacht, aptly named Lion Lore, rode at anchor and as she watched the coloured lights from prow to stern flashed on, as the sun sank below the horizon in majestic glory, turning the sea blood-red.

‘You must visit the outdoor opera in Verona; it is an experience not to be missed.’ His hand covered hers on the table. ‘Will you let me take you, Saffron?’ he asked in that throaty, sexy voice of his, his thumb teasingly stroking her palm.

In that second she realised she wanted to say yes! But she knew he was asking for a lot more than an evening at the opera and, snatching her hand from his, she jumped to her feet. ‘It’s time we left. Anna will need me.’

‘She’s not the only one,’ Alex taunted softly as he led her out into the balmy night air. Stopping at the edge of the water, he turned her to face him, linking his hands loosely around her waist.

Saffron tensed. Why did his words sound like a threat, she wondered, when his every look and touch promised her delights she could only guess at, and secretly longed for…?

‘Funny. For a girl with a passion for overtures…’ he bent and brushed the top of her head with the lightest of kisses ‘…you are very slow on picking up on them.’ His dark eyes smiled teasingly down at her.

Saffron grinned, her tension vanishing. ‘God, that was a terrible pun, Alex!’

‘It worked—it made you smile.’ And, holding hands, they made their way back to the yacht.