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‘Mother loved you as though you were her own daughter,’ Eleni told her. ‘Even on such short acquaintance. I know this is what she would want.’

And Zoe, who had at first been resentful of this stranger in their midst, said it was unthinkable she should leave now. ‘Georgios’s mother told me how you had arrived here accidentally. It is indeed an honour to be invited to stay in the Alexidises’ villa. She would be most distressed if she knew you were thinking of going.’

So Miranda had stayed, attending the service in their own private chapel, shedding tears of grief, not only for the old lady, but her own lost happiness. Little had she realised when setting out so hopefully from London such a short time ago that it would end like this.

The house seemed full with Phrosini and Cleo and their respective husbands, but once they had returned to Athens, and Nikos, too, said he could stay away from his work no longer, there were only the three girls in the house for the biggest part of the day.

Georgios and Zoe were very happy and Miranda could look at them without feeling the slightest pang of unease or jealousy. Nor did she hold it against Georgios for what he had done. She understood his reasons and was glad that he had at last found true happiness.

But it was time she went. She spoke to Theo during dinner a day or two after the funeral. ‘There’s no point in me staying any longer. Will you arrange my flight, please?’

He looked at her and there was no hint of emotion on his face. ‘If that is what you want, then I will see to it immediately.’

What did he mean, if that was what she wanted? What choice had she? What reason to stay any longer? Considering how eager he had been to get rid of her in the first place, it was a strange statement to make now.

‘Thank you,’ she answered politely.

She wondered why he was so distant from her these days. It hurt more deeply than she cared to admit. Only by exercising a great deal of will-power was she able to tell herself that she did not care.

She made herself believe this. It was the only way. If she gave in to the love that burned inside her she would be unhappy for the rest of her life. It was time to be strong. Once away from here she would forget Theo. She would settle down and have her baby and there would be no need for anyone else. Her life would be full. She would like to think that she could forget the Alexidis family altogether, but with her baby as a constant reminder that would be impossible.

Theo came to her room before breakfast the next morning, tapping on the door and waiting for her to call him in before entering. ‘I’ve phoned the airport. They can get you on a flight this morning. Is that too soon?’

His formality was almost too much to bear. He looked devastating in silver-grey trousers and a crisp white shirt, his jaw freshly shaven and the familiar smell of musk emanating from him.

‘That will do fine,’ she whispered, feeling close to tears. ‘It won’t take me long to pack.’ She could not take her eyes off his face. She wanted to remember every tiny detail; those unusual bronze eyes, his arrogant aquiline nose, and that infinitely kissable mouth.

Even looking at him she could recall the feel of his lips against her own. His kisses had been nectar. They had drugged her, excited her, stimulated her—and now she would never experience them again.

‘You look unhappy,’ he said surprisingly. ‘If it’s money you’re worried about, there’s no need. I will see that you are adequately provided for. The baby— do you intend keeping it?’

Miranda’s eyes widened. ‘What a stupid question! Of course I do. You didn’t really think I’d want to get rid of it simply because Georgios is—has—produced another wife?’

‘I see,’ he said quietly, stepping further into the room. ‘Do you hold it against Georgios? What are your feelings for him? Do you still love him?’

Had she ever? It was a debatable question. ‘There’s not much point, is there?’ she queried, refusing to give him an outright answer. ‘He’s happy now, at least I can be glad of that.’

Surprisingly he sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘You’re a remarkable woman, Miranda. Not many would take it like this.’

Only if they discovered they had never really loved their husband, and now loved his brother instead! Waves of sensation cascaded through her. Theo was far too close for comfort. She closed her eyes and willed him to go away.

He mistook her action for sorrow and touched her face, stroking back her fine shining hair, murmuring something in his own language.

Miranda quivered and shrank back against the pillow, afraid to look at him. She did not want his pity. ‘I’m all right,’ she managed to husk. ‘If you’ll go—I’ll get ready—and—I won’t be a nuisance to you any ’

Her words were cut off as his mouth closed on hers. Common sense told her to fight him off, but it was too good an opportunity to miss, whatever his motive might be.

It was a tender, infinitely sweet kiss. There was no animal passion such as she had experienced before, it was as though he was trying to atone for Georgios’s mistake, to assure her that all was well, that he would see she never wanted for anything.

But even though it lacked passion it aroused her as much as if not more than if he had taken her in hunger. It took every ounce of will-power not to wrap her arms round his neck and hold him close. She lay submissive, savouring each tiny movement of his mouth, exulting in the ripples of desire which chased through each and every limb. She might never again experience such a searing emotion. No other man would have the power to disturb her so deeply.

When he lifted his head she opened her eyes, and caught an emotion that was difficult to understand. It was a mixture of regret, desire and perhaps sadness. A fleeting glimpse of the man inside. It occurred to her that he did not want her to leave.

She lifted her hands and touched his face, one palm on each cheek, steadying it so that she could look into his eyes. It was as if she was seeing him for the first time. There was hidden depths she never discovered before, fires burning deeply. For a rare moment he had left himself wide open, cast that inscrutable mask to one side.

Their eyes locked and there was no way that either of them could turn away. Miranda’s heart drummed louder and louder until it was an actual physical pain in her breast. The blood pounded in her ears and she felt as though she was going to faint.

As if from a distance she heard Theo ask if she was all right. Her nod was barely discernible, she was afraid to move in case she broke the spell that bound her to him.

Then with a superhuman effort he stood up, dragging his limbs as though they were made of lead, battling with himself every inch of the way. Miranda lifted her hands to him. ‘Theo, why are you going?’

His lids snapped like shutters over his eyes and the next second they had assumed their customary hardness. ‘Because it’s insanity,’ he said roughly.

‘What is?’ she cried.

‘Me—feeling like this—about you.’ The words were thick—and reluctant.

Her heart stopped, then raced at double-quick time. ‘How—do you—feel?’ she enquired hesitantly, faintly.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ he snarled. ‘And it’s bloody stupid, when you hate my guts!’ He swung away and strode to the door, yanking it open with a savage hand.

Miranda shot out of bed, and was at his side before he stepped through the doorway. It was now or never. If he meant what she thought he meant, then she had to speak before it was too late. ‘Theo!’ She touched his arm. ‘I don’t—hate you. I ’ she swallowed painfully, ‘I love you.’

Her eyes had never been more eloquent. They filled her pale face, twin lustrous pools of pain and love, of doubt; pleading for him to understand, to believe, to accept. Her whole future hung in the balance. If he rejected her now, if she was wrong ... It did not bear thinking about.

She trembled and closed her eyes, then felt herself caught by a pair of strong arms, clamped to an iron-hard body. A tremor ran through him, reminding her of the rock slide in the storm. This man of stone was crumbling. She had not been mistaken.

With a cry she lifted her head and their lips met in a kiss that was hard and demanding, that was full of desire and intensity, a kiss that said it all.

It was long minutes before Theo reluctantly moved, then Miranda nestled her head in his shoulder, afraid to look at him.

He stroked her hair for a moment, then abruptly put her from him. ‘I’d like to believe you, Miranda.’ There was a tightness to his jaw that she could not understand. ‘But—well, you thought you loved my brother once. What I’m looking for is a permanent relationship, not a transient affair. The woman I marry will be mine for life.’

She stared at him, feeling something die inside her. ‘You still think that I’m—gold-digging, perhaps?’ Her voice was little more than a whisper. God, what a fool she had been! How could she have been naive enough to think that he would believe her? He was well within his rights to doubt she was capable of loving anyone deeply enough to last a lifetime. She had not made a very good job of loving Georgios. Even if she had not found out about Zoe it would not have lasted. She had been crazy ever to get herself involved.

And now she was an even bigger idiot for telling Theo how she felt. Her own selfish desire for happiness had blinded her to the fact that he might not feel the way she did. He desired her, that was all. He did not love her. He couldn’t do, or he would not reject her like this.

‘I know you’re not after money,’ he said quietly. ‘I must admit, I did at first think that that was why
you’d latched on to Georgios. But as I grew to know you I realised I’d been mistaken.’

‘Perhaps I should be grateful for that,’ she returned bitterly. ‘Please go. I don’t want to miss that plane.’

She held her breath, hoping he would ask her to stay, but he nodded grimly and walked out, and the click of the door seemed to Miranda to seal her fate.

But she did not allow herself to cry. She had made the biggest mistake in her life telling Theo she loved him, and it hurt like hell that he did not believe she was sincere. God knew why he thought she had said it. But she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing that she was upset.

She flung everything into her case, took a quick shower, and carefully made up her face. When she went downstairs Theo had already told the others she was leaving. Eleni made her promise to come back for the wedding at Christmas, but Miranda knew she would never set foot on this island again.

Georgios looked sad, hugging her briefly, unable to say much in front of Zoe. Miranda’s eyes were very bright. It was not easy to part so casually from a man who had once been your husband, a man who had not the slightest idea that she was expecting his baby.

Theo was taking her to the airport. The helicopter sat on its pad waiting and they were airborne all too soon. Neither spoke in the short flight across to Corfu. Miranda looked down at the brilliant sea, at the various islands scattered like jewels, and felt an incredible ache.

She had come here after one man, finished up by loving another, and was now going home without either.

At the airport he waited with her, still silent, unaware of the pain he was causing. Miranda could not wait for the moment she boarded; not until then would she be able to relax, drop the guard she had erected for his benefit.

It was a distinct shock when Theo walked to the plane with her, climbing the steps and taking a seat at her side. ‘What the hell ?’ she demanded angrily.

‘I want to see you safely home,’ he said.

‘To England?’ she queried incredulously.

He inclined his head. ‘You’re in no fit state to travel alone.’

‘Because I’m pregnant? For pity’s sake, Theo, it’s nothing. I’m as fit as a fiddle. Get off now, before it’s too late.’

‘And waste my ticket?’ He settled more comfortably into his seat, putting his head back and closing his eyes. There was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Miranda could not imagine why he was doing this. It was yet another of his incredible games. She folded her hands in her lap and wondered how she was going to get through the next few hours.

It was not until the plane had taken off that he spoke. ‘What makes you think you love me?’

It was such an unexpected question that Miranda’s head jerked and she looked at him with wide questioning eyes.

‘I wasn’t mistaken, was I?’ he asked. ‘You did say that?’

Her heart raced, but she refused to be drawn. 'I
can’t see what point there is in discussing my feelings now.’ The most peculiar sensations were skidding through her limbs and there was nothing at all she could do to stop them.

She was more aware of Theo than she had ever been, of the long length of thigh so close to her own, the tough masculine body, and hands that could be gentle as well as ruthless.

‘You once thought you loved Georgios,’ he said softly. ‘I want to know why you transferred your affections to me. Or did you perhaps never love my brother? Am I mistaken and it was his wealth you were interested in?’

‘I imagined I loved Georgios,’ she admitted cautiously. ‘I realise now that it wasn’t the real thing. He represented security, although I don’t expect you to understand that.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t,’ he said. ‘You’re a very bad judge of character if you thought that about my brother.’

Miranda shook her head. ‘I knew he had his weaknesses. I don’t mean that. You see, my parents died when I was three and after that I never had a real home. I had no relatives, no one, merely a succession of foster-parents, none of whom were interested in a long-term commitment.’

‘So you grabbed the first man who came along who was wealthy enough to set you up in a home of your own?’

Miranda shot him a scornful glance. ‘I’m not mercenary! If you hadn’t ordered him back to Salamyndros we would still be together.’

‘It wouldn’t have lasted,’ he said. ‘Sooner or later Georgios would have felt a twinge of conscience—if not about his wife, then for my mother. We’re a very close-knit family, like all Greek families, and he must have known how upset she was by his disappearance.’ Miranda said nothing; what was there to say? What point was there in any of this? All Theo was doing was crucifying her slow minute by slow minute.