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Not that it made any difference. Georgios would learn. One day he would be as much of a man as Theo. One day he would show them all that he was as capable as the next man. When he learned about his unborn child, that would surely give him strength? He would walk as tall and proud as his brother.

Miranda did not realise how tired she was until she lay down. Katie had been in and hung away her clothes, eyeing Miranda with grim displeasure and answering her attempts to make conversation with
‘Den katalaveno,’
and a shake of her head. Miranda felt she did not want to understand. She was an unlikeable sort of character and seemed to have taken an unreasoning dislike to herself. Or was it the extra work involved that caused her lips to turn down at the comers?

But Katie was the least of her worries. Georgios was top of the list, with the hateful Theo coming a close second. Lying now between the cool cotton sheets, listening to birds quarrelling noisily outside her window, to the faint lap of the ocean far below, she resolved to sort this matter out some time tonight.

She could not sleep while Georgios was in another room swearing he was not her husband. It did not make sense. If no opportunity provided itself, then she would make one, even if it meant going to Georgios’s room after everyone else was in bed—providing, of course, she could find his room.

The different levels and endless stairs and corridors made it difficult to get her bearings, but it seemed logical to assume that the bedrooms were close together. Eleni, she knew, occupied a room three doors away. No doubt the two brothers were also in this same part of the villa. It simply meant keeping her eyes and ears open.

Soon Miranda felt herself drifting into sleep, only to have her peace rudely disturbed by the door crashing open with such violence that her heart stopped, then catapulted into an erratic tattoo against her rib-cage.

Her eyes shot wide and she sat up in bed wondering what was happening.

Theo bounced into the room, a wild rage darkening his brows, prisms of light glinting in the blackness of his eyes. ‘I’d like to hear that what Eleni tells me is not true!’

He was like a magnificent male animal, poised for attack, limbs tense, muscles coiled, eyes wary and watchful, waiting for exactly the right moment to tear his victim to pieces.

Her initial shock over, Miranda looked at him coolly. ‘If you’re referring to your mother’s invitation to stay for a few days, then yes, it is right.’ She pulled the sheet over her breasts which, cupped only by a transparent lace bra, were embarrassingly holding his attention.

‘Why did you do it? I gave Eleni express instructions not to take you into her room!’ The very air seemed to vibrate with his anger. She had never seen a man so enraged, and it both fascinated and frightened her to look at him.

‘Mrs Alexidis heard us, and invited me in,’ she said defiantly. ‘And I think you have a cheek to come in here when I’m in bed!’

‘A cheek—in my own house? It is you who have the cheek, Miss Martyn, in daring to come to our island in the first place. Georgios has no interest in you, isn’t that clear? Why then do you intend to hang around for a few more days?’

There was no relaxing of his big frame. He towered over her like one of his legendary Greek gods, his powerful physique stretching his clothes as he seemed to grow in stature with every anger-filled second.

‘Georgios does not deceive me,’ she managed calmly, even though inside she felt on fire. Her reaction to Theo astounded her. Even in the middle of all this hatred and fury she could appreciate what a perfect specimen of manhood he was. Virility in the raw. The most sexually aggressive man she had ever seen.

‘He worries me,' she continued, ‘because I don’t like to see him browbeaten by a man like you.’ She kept her eyes on him as she spoke, not always directly meeting his gaze, which was as difficult as walking a tightrope, but looking instead at the tightly moulded lips or the rigid line of his jaw. ‘Once we’re able to talk, though, I’m quite sure it will be sorted out. I don’t give up easily, Mr Alexidis, when it’s my whole future that’s at stake.’

‘The fragile butterfly has a core of steel, I see! Those wide innocent eyes hide a scheming mind which once it has set its sights will allow nothing or no one to get in its way. Maybe you deceived my mother, but you certainly don’t fool me!’

‘I have no intention of trying to fool you or anyone,’ said Miranda levelly. ‘I’m here because what I say is true. I did marry Georgios in England, and simply because you don’t approve you have no right forcing him to profess not to know me. Did you really think I’d accept it? That I’d think, oh well, I’ve made a mistake, and turn round and go home?’

The seething anger was carefully controlled, hands thrust deep into his pockets, eyes glacial. ‘I think you have a very fertile imagination.’

‘I’m not making it up.’ Miranda was determined not to lose her temper, but it was difficult with this man calling her a liar. ‘No person would be stupid enough to accept that. If I really was after Georgios’s money I would have thought of something more plausible. This is a most ridiculous state of affairs.’

‘Only ridiculous because you’re not getting your own way.’

‘My own way? How can you say that? It’s the truth I’m after. Your whole family are living some sort of lie because you don’t agree with Georgios marrying an English girl. I feel sorry for him. Shouldn’t a man of his age be allowed to do what he wants?’

There was something entertaining about the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. The smooth bronzed skin revealed by the open silk shirt drew her eyes like a magnet. And it was infinitely safer than looking into his face.

For a reason she could not understand she experienced strange qualms when his eyes met hers. Her stomach muscles tightened and her breathing deepened. He was certainly a compelling man, but it was Georgios she loved, so she couldn’t possibly be attracted to him. The feelings, therefore, had to be caused by hatred. A deep loathing for a person who felt he had the power to rule his brother, manipulate him the way he wanted him to go. And now he was trying to wield his power over her!

‘Georgios has never known what he wants,’ he said disparagingly. ‘His life has been a complete failure.’ Living in the shadow of a man like Theo it would be difficult to assert yourself, Miranda thought. It was no wonder Georgios had left home. She could see it clearly. Theo would make anyone feel inferior. He was doing his best to put her down right now.

‘I don’t think you’re giving him a fair chance,’ she said, a quiver in her voice telling him that she was not so calm as she tried to look.

His lip curled savagely. ‘Contrary to what you might think, I have put Georgios up to nothing. If he says he doesn’t know you, then the thought has come from him, not me’.’

‘I don’t believe you.’ She sat up very straight, clutching the sheet as it fell, holding it in front of her like a protective shield.

Not that it safeguarded her from Theo. She was completely at his mercy, despite her brave face, and what was more, he knew it. It would be a unique experience for him if he did not come out on top. She guessed that whatever task he set himself he always won. No one would ever get the better of him.

‘Why should Georgios deny knowing me? It doesn’t make sense!’

Some of the tension had gone out of his body. His thumbs were now hooked casually in his pocket-openings, his weight all on one leg, the other relaxed and bent at an angle which pulled the cream cotton tightly over his muscular thighs. The latent power in that body made her shudder.

‘You’re calling me a liar?’ Not by the merest flicker of an incredibly long black eyelash did he suggest that no one ever called him that and got away with it. But it did not take much working out to realise that this was the way things were with him.

Miranda jutted her chin, gripping the sheet that little bit more tightly. She felt uncomfortably warm despite the air-conditioning and the shaded windows. ‘If you won’t admit the truth, then yes, I suppose I am. Georgios is lying too, and I want to know why.’

‘You won’t find the answer here.’ His hypnotic eyes were merciless, boring into her soul as if he, too, was trying to find the solution to the puzzle.

In desperation she shook her head, her fine gold hair brushing her shoulders. ‘Where will I find the answer? This whole set-up’s so absurd it makes me sick!’

‘Then you’re merely experiencing some of the revulsion I feel when girls such as you throw themselves at us, hoping a little of our wealth will rub off. I’ve had my fair share of it. I know exactly how my brother must feel.’

Something snapped inside Miranda and she could hold back no longer. She even forgot that she was wearing nothing more than her bra and pants, springing out of bed and standing in front of him, arms akimbo, her head back so that she could look into his face.

‘Mr Alexidis, you have no right to pass judgment when you don’t know the true facts! I wouldn’t touch one penny of your stinking rotten money! It’s Georgios I want, destitute, if you like. He’s my husband, and I happen to love him very much!’

‘Love!’ he scoffed, his eyes devouring her body instead of meeting her defiant stare. ‘I doubt you know the meaning of the word. And how can you love a man who claims he’s never seen you before?’

Miranda felt unexpectedly frail beneath those all-seeing eyes which appraised every inch of her tiny body, from the exaggerated thrust of her breasts, over the flatness of her stomach and down the length of her legs to her small dainty feet with their pink-painted toenails.

When he arrived back at her face she felt as though she had no secrets left. He had assessed her physically and mentally and knew everything about her.

‘Can I ask you a personal question?’ Her throat was tight, her limbs quivering so that she clenched her fists in an endeavour to still them. ‘Have you ever been in love?’

‘Many times,’ came his ready response.

‘Really in love, I mean,’ she went on. ‘Have you ever felt the agony and heartache of loving a person more than anything or anyone in the whole world?’ The comers of his mouth lifted sceptically. ‘Are you suggesting that that is how you feel about my brother?’ The hard eyes were fixed firmly on hers. Miranda felt her heart flutter wildly in her breast.

There was a magnetism in those eyes that she found hard to resist, they were pulling her mentally towards him, they were willing her to change her mind, to make her admit that her feelings for Georgios were nothing more than a figment of her imagination.

Such was his power that she could not break the spell which bound her to him as surely as if they were linked by chains of iron. Imperceptibly he drew closer until she could feel the warmth from his body. It was like standing before an open fire, and she knew that if she did not move she would get burnt.

But still she was unable to do anything about it. She stood transfixed, her eyes locked into his. It occurred to her that they were not black at all, but an antique bronze, with the same glowing lustre of that metal. The pupils were almost invisible, the whites incredibly white, black lashes framing them thickly.

His heavy lids were half closed, masking whatever feelings were skimming through his mind. Not that there was any chance of ever reading what this man thought. His iron self-control was to be admired.

She suddenly realised that she had not yet answered his question, yet when he looked at her like this how could she speak, how could she resume control over her body when he was the one who had taken charge?

If someone had given her a thousand pounds she would have been unable to move. Theo was exercising some strange hypnotic influence that had locked her limbs and her tongue, leaving only her mind free.

Curious sensations shot through her nerve-system, an awareness built up inside her. Theo was lethal— and he had a head start, because she had no idea what he was planning.

She should be on her guard instead of feeling this strange compelling urge to experience his arms about her, to have her breasts crushed against the solid wall of his body, and feel the strong steady beat of his heart.

The musky odour of his skin tantalised her nostrils, and as he drew ever nearer she could see each tiny pore on his face. Quite soon he would need to shave. She guessed that he was the type of man who needed to do this twice a day.

What are you doing to me? she wanted to ask. But her mouth was dry, her parted lips stiff. Was he a sorcerer casting his wicked spell? Would she suddenly snap out of this peculiar hypnotic state and discover her mind had been made up for her and she was returning to England with no further thought to protest?

Now she could hear his breathing, deep and steady, not erratic and uncontrolled like her own. Her body was bathed with a faint film of perspiration, Theo looked as cool and collected as it was possible to be.

She wished he would speak. She wished he would break this interminable silence which was lasting only seconds, but which in her trance-like state felt like minutes, hours even. It was a span of time that was limitless. There had been no beginning, there was no end. They were suspended in a time warp, both victims of their own curiosity towards the other.

When her frantic heartbeats sounded like drums in her ears, when she knew that no way was she going to escape until Theo had accomplished whatever it was he had in mind, she closed her eyes.

Perhaps if she willed him strongly enough to go away he would. He was willing her to respond to him, why shouldn’t it work the other way round?

But shutting him out was her undoing. At the exact fraction of a second that she lowered her lashes, Theo’s lips claimed hers. The experience almost blew the top off her head.

Unlike Georgios’s kisses, which had aroused in her a state of mild excitement, sufficient, she had thought, to prove that she loved him, Theo’s hungry lips drugged her senses and made her clamour for more.

So effective had been his conditioning that she had no desire to resist. Instead she wound her arms round his neck and responded with an eagerness that scared her, that she would regret later, but which at that moment seemed the right and proper thing to do.