Òû ìîã áû îñòàòüñÿ ñî ìíîþ, Íî ñíîâà ñïåøèøü íà âîêçàë. Íå ñòàëà ÿ áëèçêîé, ðîäíîþ… Íå çäåñü òâîé íàä¸æíûé ïðè÷àë. Óåäåøü. ß çíàþ, íàäîëãî: Ñëàãàþòñÿ ãîäû èç äíåé. Ì÷èò ñåðî-çåë¸íàÿ «Âîëãà», - Òàêñèñò, «íå ãîíè ëîøàäåé». Íå íàäî ìíå êëÿòâ, îáåùàíèé. Çà÷åì ïîâòîðÿòüñÿ â ñëîâàõ? Èçíîøåíî âðåìÿ æåëàíèé, Ñêàæè ìíå, ÷òî ÿ íå ïðàâà!? ×óæîé òû, ñåìåé

The Santorini Marriage Bargain

The Santorini Marriage Bargain Margaret Mayo ‘Do you want the downfall ofDiakos Holdings to be on yourconscience?’ ‘That’s not fair,’ Rhianne retorted immediately, her eyes sparking blue flashes. ‘That’s blackmail. I’ll tell you the decision I’ve reached,’ she said quietly, trying to ignore the way her body reacted to his nearness. She really would have to make the rules very clear if she wanted any peace of mind. ‘I’ll agree to marry you—but with certain conditions.’ Zarek’s well-shaped brows rose, and Rhianne knew that he was wondering whether he would like what she had to say. She knew that he wouldn’t. Zarek would expect nothing less than a normal marriage, with her in bed beside him every night. It couldn’t be done. All her life she’d been waiting for Mr Right. Zarek wasn’t that person. She hardly knew him. He’d almost run her over, and then made amends by offering her a job. But if he thought it gave him some prior claim on her body then he was deeply mistaken. ‘Our marriage would be in name only,’ she said. ‘A pure business deal. Nothing more, nothing less.’ Margaret Mayo was reading Mills & Boon® romances long before she began to write them. In fact she never had any plans to become a writer. After an idea for a short story popped into her head she was thrilled when it turned into a full-scale novel. Now, over twenty-five years later, she is still happily writing and says she has no intention of stopping. She lives with her husband Ken in a rural part of Staffordshire, England. She has two children: Adrian, who now lives in America, and Tina. Margaret’s hobbies are reading, photography, and more recently watercolour painting—which she says has honed her observational skills and is a definite advantage when it comes to writing. Recent titles by the same author: THE ITALIAN’S RUTHLESS BABY BARGAIN THE BILLIONAIRE’S BLACKMAIL BARGAIN BEDDED AT HIS CONVENIENCE THE RICH MAN’S RELUCTANT MISTRESS Dear Reader I hope you will enjoy reading Rhianne and Zarek’s story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. It’s hard to believe that this is my 75th book—time has flown so quickly. I’m often asked where I get my ideas from, and quite honestly I don’t always know. In the early days of my writing career I always had another story ready in my mind before I’d finished the previous one. These days it takes a little longer, but when the ideas do come they appear in my mind as if by magic. This story was born simply because I thought I’d like a Greek setting and a marriage of convenience—and once I had worked out how Rhianne and Zarek met, the rest fell into place. Warmest wishes Margaret THE SANTORINI MARRIAGE BARGAIN BY MARGARET MAYO www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) CHAPTER ONE RHIANNE heard the screech of brakes before she saw the car. By then it was too late. Lost in her own world of misery she had not thought to look before she stepped off the pavement. Urged on by the front fender of the car, she spun across the road and for a few moments lay curled in blessed silence. It was as though everything in the whole world had stopped. No traffic noise, no voices, no birds singing. Nothing except a strange calm. She wasn’t even hurting. Then came the voice. A deep, gruff male voice. ‘Why the hell didn’t you look where you were going?’ Why the hell didn’t she look? Rhianne struggled to turn her head and glare at the owner of the voice. He was clearly the man who had knocked her down. Beyond him was his car with the door still open, the engine still running. ‘Why didn’t I look?’ Her tone matched his for hardness. And why shouldn’t it when hewas behaving as though she was the one at fault. ‘Why the hell didn’t you look? Call yourself a driver. This is a busy main road. You should have had your wits about you.’ ‘Are you hurt?’ The belated question angered her still further. She closed her eyes, needing to shut out the handsome face that had come a little too close. The man was on his haunches now, peering at her, making her feel like an insect under a microscope. ‘Hello. Can you hear me?’ So he thought she’d passed out! Rhianne snapped her eyes open again and scrambled to her feet. She felt wobbly but nothing appeared to be broken. At least she didn’t think so. Her legs still held her up and she could move her arms. Her hip felt a little sore and she guessed she’d be bruised tomorrow, but other than that she was okay. No thanks to Mr Fast Car Driver. When she looked about her she saw that a crowd had gathered, each face filled with concern and curiosity. But the only face she saw clearly was that of the man who’d given her his hand to help her up—the hand she had ignored. The man who was now looking at her with a frown digging deep into his forehead. ‘It was my fault. I apologise.’ Eyes that were neither grey nor brown but somewhere in between looked intently at her. Eyes that under other circumstances she might have found attractive. At this moment in time, however, she saw only the eyes of a man who was instrumental in her having made a silly fool of herself. It hadn’t been entirely his fault but she wasn’t going to admit it. She could hear the murmur of voices as the crowd dispersed; they were happy that she hadn’t been seriously injured and were now prepared to carry on their daily lives as though nothing had happened. Rhianne wished that nothing had happened, that nothing had changed, that she was still in the job she loved and that she hadn’t made that awful discovery about Angus. ‘Apology accepted,’ she answered, belatedly realising that the man was still looking closely at her. ‘It was, of course, an error of judgement on my part. I apologise most profusely. If there is anything I can do to—’ Rhianne registered for the first time that the man wasn’t English. He was olive-skinned and dark-haired—hair that could do with cutting, she noticed, hair that looked as though it wanted to curl, and he had a deep, attractive accent that she couldn’t quite place. ‘Not a thing. I’m not hurt; you can go, I—’ Suddenly the world spun around her, and she put a hand to her head. Immediately a pair of strong arms supported her, held her against a body that was strong and firm. Even in her woozy state she recognised that this man seriously looked after himself. She drew in a deep, shuddering breath and then wished she hadn’t when the scent of his cologne filled her nostrils. She knew that whenever she smelled this same scent again it would forever remind her of this moment. Smells did this to her. Lavender reminded her of a holiday she’d once had in Jersey, tobacco reminded her of her grandfather. When she was tiny he used to pick her up and swing her around with his pipe still in his mouth. ‘You are hurt,’ he insisted. ‘Allow me to take you home; it is the least I can do. Or do you need a doctor, should I take you to—’ ‘No, it is nothing,’ she exclaimed. ‘Then home it is.’ ‘No!’ declared Rhianne, more strongly this time. She had no home; she’d just walked out. She couldn’t bear to go back there again. ‘In that case I will take you home with me,’ he declared imperatively. ‘I cannot leave you in this condition.’ ‘What condition?’ she queried, drawing back, widening her attractive blue eyes. ‘I’m all right—just a few bruises, nothing more.’ ‘A good strong cup of tea is what you need, isn’t that the English way of doing things? It is my fault that I knocked you down; it is up to me to ensure that you suffer no serious after-effects.’ Rhianne was given no chance to protest further. With her arm firmly held in his, the stranger led her to his car. Another smell, leather this time, she realised as he helped her inside: soft, luxurious leather. It was a big car, big like the man. And expensive. Who was he? she wondered. She appreciated his concern even though it wasn’t necessary. His suit was dark grey and elegantly tailored, his fine cotton shirt was white and his tie the colour of French mustard. ‘I can manage,’ she declared when he reached for her seat belt. But he ignored her, insisting on fastening it himself. In such close proximity the full impact of this dangerously attractive man hit her with as much force as when he had knocked her down. Again his cologne filled the air around her. Musky and woody, not one that she had smelled before. It suited him; it suggested a strong male with firm opinions and a sense of what was right and wrong. It was strange how this thought popped into her head. He was making a big impact on her, that was for sure, but she sincerely hoped that she wasn’t making a huge mistake letting him take her to wherever he lived. What did she know about him? Nothing. Not even his name. Clearly he felt at fault for knocking her down or she wouldn’t be here now. But who was he? The effort of thinking proved too much, and she closed her eyes and kept them shut until the car stopped and he killed the engine. She dared to look about her and saw a tall imposing building. But it wasn’t a house, it was a hotel. Alarm bells rang in her head. What purpose did he use it for? Did he make a habit of picking up helpless females? ‘You live in a hotel?’ she questioned, unaware that nervousness sounded in her voice, or that her eyes had widened dramatically, their normal pale blue darkening to almost navy. She could feel her heart pitter-pattering in her chest and she felt strangely dizzy. The man smiled. ‘In the penthouse suite. Come—’ he held out his hand ‘—let me take you up. I can assure you that you will be perfectly safe. My main aim is to make sure that you have suffered no ill effects. I hold myself completely responsible, of course.’ ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ declared Rhianne at once. ‘I didn’t look where I was going.’ One dark brow lifted, reminding her of her emphatic declaration that he was the one to blame. Nevertheless his voice remained perfectly calm. ‘But I should have seen you and made allowances. Let us not talk about this now. Let us go inside and get you that cup of tea. Then you can tell me what it is that was troubling you to such an extent that you didn’t see me.’ About to retort that there was nothing bothering her, Rhianne changed her mind. He was probably testing her, trying to find out what was wrong. She had no intention of sharing her problems with a stranger. As they walked into the hotel, his hand on her elbow, Rhianne couldn’t help wondering whether she was doing the right thing. He hadn’t a clue what was going on in her mind. She wasn’t after tea and sympathy. In fact she ought not to be here at all. In a state of panic she pulled away from him and would have ran had he not grabbed her arm. ‘You’re in no fit state to be going anywhere on your own,’ he insisted, his voice deep and gruff and very firm. ‘If it’s me you’re afraid of I can arrange for a female member of staff to be in attendance. I can, however, assure you that it won’t be necessary.’ His dark eyes looked deeply into hers, and all Rhianne saw was sincerity. She felt faintly foolish and drew in a deep, unsteady breath. ‘That won’t be necessary.’ There were no other words she could find that wouldn’t make her look more idiotic than she already felt. Today had to be the worst day of her life, and receiving kindness from a total stranger when she’d been so badly let down made her feel both grateful and weepy at the same time. Which was not something she was accustomed to. She rarely cried; she’d had the sort of family life that needed strength of character, and she’d always prided herself that she could handle anything. Now this man was seeing her at her lowest ebb. It did her pride no good at all, and she felt distinctly uneasy as the lift swept them up to his penthouse suite. She stood with her back to the mirrored walls, her hands pressed against it. She could see a dozen images of both herself and the handsome man, each one receding into the distance. She looked absolutely petrified, her auburn hair tousled, her eyes wide with aftershock and fear. ‘Is this your permanent home?’ she enquired in an effort to break the silence. She honestly couldn’t see why anyone would choose to live in a hotel, but he had called it home—so? ‘Or are you here on business?’ ‘It’s both. Business is what’s keeping me here, and this suite suits me very well. It has everything I could possibly need.’ He had an aura of great wealth—it was in the way he dressed, the way he held himself, his total control and confidence. But there was more than that. Even in her distraught state, Rhianne could see that he was a charmer. She guessed that he probably charmed the hide off every woman he met. He was handsome, suave, good-looking, with a twinkle in his brown eyes that, if she hadn’t been in the state she was in, might have affected her senses. At the moment she was immune to any man, good-looking or not. Rich and powerful or not. She wanted no man in her life for a very long time. So what was she doing here? Why had she let him persuade her to accompany him? What could he do for her? She wasn’t seriously injured, there had been no need for him to make such an offer. And she didn’t even know his name. She was accompanying a complete stranger to his suite in a hotel. How foolish was that? As though he had zoomed in on her thoughts, her companion held out his hand. ‘I think it’s about time we introduced ourselves. I’m Zarek Diakos. And you are—?’ Rhianne smiled weakly. Zarek Diakos! It sounded Greek, and she couldn’t help wondering what business had brought him to England. ‘I’m Rhianne Pickering,’ she said quietly. The lift stopped, and the doors silently opened. ‘Well, Rhianne Pickering. Welcome to my humble abode.’ Nervously she stepped out on to a deep-piled carpet, and he led the way through to a living room that was the size of the whole apartment she shared with her friend. She wasn’t even aware that her mouth had fallen open. There were valuable paintings on the walls, Venetian mirrors, hand-cut crystal chandeliers. Luxury beyond compare. ‘You’re renting this?’ she asked, unaware that her voice was no more than a breathy whisper. Zarek shrugged. ‘You think it’s a little ostentatious perhaps? You get what you pay for in my experience. I can afford it, so why not surround myself with beautiful things? I work hard all day; it is a pleasure to come home.’ There it was again, the word home. Rhianne could never imagine calling a place like this home. How could he relax here? There was not a thing out of place. It was a showpiece. Supposedly that was what money did for you. You lost track of home comforts, bought into a lifestyle that suited your image. She couldn’t imagine living anywhere like this, not even for a holiday. How could anyone get comfortable on those overstuffed armchairs? You wouldn’t even want to kick off your shoes and leave them lying around for fear of offending the room’s intrinsic sense of order. ‘Please, sit down,’ invited Zarek. ‘I’ll ring for tea.’ Rhianne perched on the edge of a chair, and, when he had finished issuing his order, Zarek joined her. ‘So, tell me how you’re really feeling?’ ‘Bruised,’ she answered on a reflective sigh. ‘But other than that I’m OK. I don’t really need to be here.’ ‘You were lucky I wasn’t driving any faster. You might not have got away with such slight injury. Would you care to tell me what it was that made you walk out into the road like that?’ ‘I was deep in thought, that’s all.’ ‘Some thoughts,’ he said, his brows rising as though he didn’t believe her simple explanation. ‘Would it have anything to do with the fact that you didn’t want me to take you home? Were you running away?’ ‘Running away?’ echoed Rhianne indignantly. He was too astute for words. ‘Why would I want to do that?’ ‘It’s the impression you give.’ Rhianne dropped her head into her hands. ‘I have a raging headache. Do you have any aspirin?’ Immediately he sprang to his feet. It had the desired effect. It stopped him asking any more questions. But her reprieve was short-lived. A glass of water and the tablets appeared as if by magic. He handed them to her and stood over her until she had taken them. ‘Would you like to lie down?’ he enquired. Lie down? On a bed? In his private suite? A worst-case scenario raced through Rhianne’s head. ‘No, I’ll be all right,’ she answered firmly. ‘I could send for a physician.’ ‘I said I’ll be all right,’ she said even more emphatically, shooting sparks of fire from her brilliant blue eyes. ‘But I would like to use your bathroom.’ ‘Of course, why did I not think of it?’ He crossed the room and opened a door. Inside Rhianne could see a bed, but nothing else. A four-poster bed! Her heart slammed against her ribcage. She was treading on dangerous territory here. ‘The bathroom is to the right.’ It was as if he had read her thoughts, but there was nothing at all on his handsome face to suggest that he had anything other than her well-being in mind. In fact he was deadly serious. Serious or not, though, Zarek Diakos was a dangerous man. He was as sexy as sin, and she wouldn’t have been human if she hadn’t felt some reaction to him. Thick dark brows hovered over brown eyes that were seriously striking. Long lashes guarded them. His nose was as straight as a die, very imperial-looking, and his lips were full and wide and mobile. At this very moment they were closed, but she knew that he had beautiful even white teeth. His hair was thick and dark and touched his collar; his square jaw was darkly shadowed as though he already needed another shave. He was all man; even his body was beautiful. He had taken off his jacket and carefully hung it on a coat hanger in the entrance hall, and through the fine cotton of his shirt Rhianne observed a tangle of dark hair. Angus had no chest hairs. His body was smooth and clear and—angrily Rhianne dashed all thoughts of him out of her mind. He no longer deserved a place in her memories. She ran through to the bathroom. Zarek guessed that here was a woman who had more on her mind than the few bruises she had suffered. He went cold every time he thought about what the consequences of the accident could have been. Thank goodness he’d reacted quickly. She had walked out in front of him as though she had had a death wish, and he didn’t know how he’d managed to stop without seriously injuring her. He had a feeling that reaction hadn’t yet set in. She didn’t realise how dangerously close she had come to being killed. She was an attractive woman with rich auburn hair that curled and waved down over her shoulders, and fantastic blue eyes. It was a shame they were shadowed, and he didn’t think it was all to do with the near miss. Something was clearly disturbing her, and he wanted to find out what it was. Perhaps she would relax shortly and begin to talk. It would do her good. Not that he’d ever been in this position before, but he felt deep down in his gut that she seriously needed to get something off her chest. She had emphatically declared that she didn’t want to go home, so it was something that had happened there that was troubling her. And who was he? Sherlock Holmes? He had no idea what was wrong. He was clutching at straws, trying to work something out that had nothing to do with him. Except that it had. He had knocked Rhianne over and he felt responsible. He even wondered again whether he ought to take her to hospital, get her checked out. Perhaps he should. Then the tea arrived, and Rhianne rejoined him. After she’d drunk two cups she looked a little perkier. The colour returned to her cheeks, and she even managed a faint smile. It was a lovely smile. It made her whole face lighten and brighten and she looked even more beautiful. Zarek had had his fill of beautiful women, but Rhianne was—well, she was Rhianne. A good-looking woman with no interest in him whatsoever—which made a change—and a heap of trouble sitting heavily on her slender shoulders. They drank even more tea, and finally he suggested that he take her home. The shadows returned to her eyes. ‘I can’t go back there.’ And they filled with tears. Immediately, without even thinking what he was doing, or that his actions could be misinterpreted, he knelt down and pulled her against him. Rhianne buried her head in his shoulder and stayed there for several long seconds while he inhaled the freshness of her shampoo and felt her hair’s thickness between his fingers as he cradled her head. Whew! He didn’t like this, not one little bit. He didn’t like the feelings that were beginning to throb within him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was being a good Samaritan here; sensations like this weren’t allowed. Gently he put her from him. ‘Feeling better?’ She nodded, and he reached out a handkerchief, handing it to her so that she could pat her tear-stained face. ‘Care to tell me what’s troubling you?’ ‘It’s private.’ ‘And I’m a stranger you’re hardly likely to see again. You know what they say about a trouble shared. You never know, you might feel better. I promise not to tell anyone.’ Rhianne found herself giving an involuntary smile. Actually, she didn’t feel like smiling, so why it happened she didn’t know. Except that this man seemed to understand her needs. It was true, she wouldn’t see him again after today. They were passing strangers—even though he had invited her into his house, and she had shared tea with him and buried her head into his shoulder when she had begun to cry. But to tell him such personal things! All of a sudden she wanted to. She was filled to bursting with unhappiness, and sharing it with a stranger wouldn’t be as difficult as telling her mother for instance. Or a friend. They would ask questions. They knew Angus. They knew she had been planning to marry him. This man would listen and console. ‘I don’t know where to begin,’ she said at length. ‘The beginning’s always a good place,’ he responded, but she remained silent for so long that he leaned forward and took her hands into his. ‘Is it a man who has done this to you?’ He asked the question quietly and patiently, not wanting to stir up too much anguish unless she was prepared to confide. Rhianne nodded, and suddenly tears began to slide down her cheeks, gathering momentum until they were chasing each other in an incessant flow. Zarek hated to see women cry; it made him uncomfortable; he never knew exactly how to treat them. Though, in all honesty, the women who had cried in front of him had done it for effect. Rhianne was different. She couldn’t stop herself. Some man had hurt her like crazy, and she was beside herself with anguish. No wonder she had walked out in front of his car. Silently he passed her his handkerchief and watched as she dried her tears. He had a strong urge to gather her in his arms and hold her until her sobs subsided. It was an urge he found hard to resist but somehow he managed it. He could imagine her reaction had he given in. She would hate a complete stranger holding and comforting her. Especially a man. She’d quite possibly slap his face. She needed her mother. Mothers always knew what to say in these situations. He wondered where she lived, whether he ought to suggest he take her there. Even as he thought this, she drew in a deep, shuddering breath and, without looking at him, staring at the carpet instead, she said shakily, ‘I lost my job this morning. The company has been taken over and half the workforce has been given their cards. I was secretary to the general manager but it made no difference. I was asked to clear my desk and go, just like that.’ ‘I see,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s not a practice I condone, but unfortunately it does happen. Where does your boyfriend fit into this?’ Rhianne shuddered, and once more he wanted to comfort her, but again he knew that it would be overstepping the mark. ‘I went home. I was angry and upset. I’d lost a job I love. And what did I find? My boyfriend—the man I was going to marry—making love to my best friend.’ And once more she burst into tears. CHAPTER TWO ZAREK couldn’t stop himself. Rhianne’s disclosure had disturbed him, and he took her into his arms and held her close, so close that he felt her heart beating rapidly against his chest, felt the sobs racking her body. What sort of a man would do such a thing? Not a true and faithful friend. Not a man who loved Rhianne as much as she evidently loved him. It was none of his business; he’d only just met her and ought not to feel anything, but because he had been instrumental in the accident he felt somehow involved. ‘The man’s a swine,’ he declared fiercely. ‘How could he do this to you? He doesn’t deserve your tears. He should be strung up to the highest tree. What did you say to him when you found him in such a predicament?’ ‘I said nothing,’ admitted Rhianne, her mouth twisting into a wry grimace. ‘I ran away. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I felt sick. I just turned around and ran—and why am I telling you this? It’s my problem, not yours. I’m sorry, I should be going.’ She twisted out of his arms, feeling stupid now for having confessed. And he must think she was stupid for running away instead of facing up to Angus. The truth was she had been so deeply and utterly shocked, so overwhelmingly angry, that words could never have justified her feelings. ‘You’re going nowhere,’ he declared, folding his arms across his chest, his eyes suddenly fierce. ‘You’re in serious shock, and I don’t blame you. What you need to do is devise a plan of action.’ ‘Action?’ queried Rhianne. ‘What I’d like to do is march back there and strangle them both with my bare hands.’ ‘That is good.’ Rhianne dragged her brows together. ‘Good? How can wanting to kill someone be good?’ ‘I mean anger is good. You need to get it out of your system. You need to release it and let it go. Take your anger out on me if you like. Then, when you are calmer, go back and confront these two people who have turned your life upside down.’ ‘That’s easier said than done.’ Rhianne’s eyes flared a vivid blue, locking with Zarek’s steady brown ones, seeing there an understanding that she would never have expected from a stranger. It was hard to believe that she was here in this grand apartment with a man she had met under exceptional circumstances, talking about her private life. She dropped on to her chair. ‘May I be permitted to say that your friend cannot be much of a friend if she steals your future husband from you,’ he pointed out, sitting again himself, but on the edge of his seat this time, his elbows resting on his knees, his body leaning towards her. ‘Was this the first time, do you think? Or are you perhaps wondering how long it has been going on?’ Rhianne’s thoughts hadn’t even got this far. All she’d been able to think about was the fact that she’d caught them making love on the living room floor, such mad passionate love that for a few seconds they had not even been aware of her presence, not until she had cried out in anguish. Then Angus had jumped to his feet, his face a picture of guilt and regret. ‘This isn’t what you think,’ he had said, snatching up his shirt and holding it in front of him. Rhianne hadn’t deigned to answer. How could it be anything different when she had seen it with her own eyes? She hadn’t even looked at her flatmate, aware only that Annie had held a shocked hand over her mouth. She had spun on her heel instead and raced from the building, feeling sick with anger and disgust, knowing that the vivid picture of their naked bodies locked together would haunt her for a long time to come. ‘I don’t know and I don’t really care,’ declared Rhianne vehemently. ‘All I know is that I don’t want to see either of them again.’ She was still finding it hard to believe that they had both let her down. Her best friend and the man she was going to marry. She put her hand to her mouth and raced for the bathroom again. Rhianne waited until she had composed herself before rejoining Zarek. In her absence he had ordered a carafe of iced water and, as he filled two glasses, the sound of ice cubes clinking together sounded loud in the room. Rhianne concentrated on the sound, allowing it to take over, to shut out all other thoughts. Taking her elbow, Zarek led her outside to an enormous terrace with magnificent views over the Thames and the far reaches of London. It was filled with potted palms and flowering shrubs, populated at this moment by brightly coloured butterflies. A haven of peace in the middle of an insane world, thought Rhianne as Zarek urged her in to a padded chair before sitting down himself. ‘Are you feeling better?’ He was worried about her; she looked desperately pale, still beautiful but with no colour in her skin. It gave her a kind of ethereal beauty, and this woman who had erupted so suddenly into his life intrigued him. She was such a strikingly good-looking woman that it was difficult to believe that her boyfriend would turn to someone else. If she were his, he would never want to let her out of his sight. Already he felt a strong urge to hold her and kiss her, reassure her that everything would be all right, at the same time taking pleasure in the feel of those full breasts pressing against his chest, her hips against his hips, thighs against thighs. The thought caused a tightening of his muscles. The worst part was that he wanted to take her to bed, to make her forget everything that had happened. And yet it was this very thing, this act of greedy self-indulgence, that had sent her running. Disgusted by his thoughts, Zarek busied himself refilling Rhianne’s glass. She hadn’t answered his question, so he asked her again, ‘How are you feeling?’ ‘Like hell, if you must know,’ she declared fiercely, her hands clenching and unclenching on the arms of her chair. ‘We’ve known each other for two years; we’re in the middle of arranging our marriage. And now he does this. I hate him. And I hate my friend for being a part of it. I never want to see either of them again.’ ‘But don’t you live with her?’ he asked carefully. ‘Not any more.’ Her eyes flashed angrily and beautifully. ‘I’m going to fetch my stuff and move out.’ ‘Where will you go?’ Zarek suddenly realised that he didn’t want to let her out of his life. He wanted to help her. It was ridiculous when he didn’t know the first thing about her, but fate had brought them together, and he wanted to find out more: what made her tick, what she did for a living, about her family, her mother, her father, brothers and sisters—everything, in fact. ‘There’s room here.’ He tacked those last words on and then wished he hadn’t when Rhianne’s eyes opened wide with horror. ‘Move in with you—a complete stranger? The man who nearly killed me. Are you insane?’ ‘It was just a thought,’ he said as patiently and nonchalantly as he could. It was a fight to remain calm and impartial when he wanted to offer her the sun and the stars and the moon. ‘Of course, you must do whatever you feel is right.’ ‘I have another friend who’ll put me up,’ she told him firmly, taking a further sip of water and looking anywhere but at him. ‘No family?’ It was one of those times when she needed her family around her. ‘No!’ she declared quickly and tersely, and he didn’t follow it up because it was really none of his business. In one respect he was glad she had turned him down because her big sad eyes overwhelmed him. On the other hand, surprisingly, he wanted her to depend on him. He wanted to tease her back to life, to see those blue eyes sparkling with happiness, to see colour in her cheeks and her mouth wide with laughter. She had incredible lips, full and wide and very, very sexy. ‘I’ll phone her now.’ Rhianne plucked her mobile phone from her bag and walked away from him to the edge of the terrace, leaning on the ornate wall and looking out across the river where life was going on as normal; no one there had had their world turned upside down. She couldn’t believe that this man, this stranger, had suggested she share his penthouse. What the hell was he thinking? Strangers didn’t make offers like that without an ulterior motive. He wanted her in his bed, that was what. He thought that because her boyfriend had cheated on her that she would be willing to get her own back by turning to someone else. And although he had to be the most strikingly handsome man she’d ever met, he was too, too gorgeous, in fact—she was definitely not in the market for a quick affair. Zarek Diakos was seriously out of his mind if he had thought she would agree. Karen answered after only two rings. ‘Rhianne, what’s wrong?’ Taken aback by her friend’s instant realization, she said, ‘How did you know?’ ‘Because you never phone me when at I’m at work. Are you in trouble?’ ‘Actually, yes,’ answered Rhianne, ‘but it will wait. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight.’ ‘Don’t you dare end the call,’ said Karen at once. ‘What’s up?’ ‘I need somewhere to stay for a day or two.’ ‘Then you’ve rung the right person. Have you fallen out with Annie?’ ‘It’s worse than that.’ Her voice broke. ‘Don’t say anything now,’ urged her friend. ‘Tell me tonight. Get your clothes and come round after I’ve finished work. Are you all right until then?’ ‘Yes,’ agreed Rhianne faintly. ‘I have to go,’ whispered Karen. ‘My boss is giving me the evil eye.’ ‘Is it sorted?’ asked Zarek when she rejoined him. He looked concerned, a faint frown creasing his brow, his eyes watchful on her face. She wished he wouldn’t look at her like that—as though he cared! It was guilt, of course, but even so she would have preferred he kept everything on an impersonal level. Rhianne nodded faintly. ‘She’ll be home soon. I’ll return to my flat meantime and pack my bags.’ ‘I’ll drive you,’ he said immediately. ‘That won’t be necessary.’ ‘I think it is,’ he stated firmly. ‘You need someone with you in case your—er, friends are still there.’ Hot sparks flashed from Rhianne’s beautiful eyes. ‘I can handle them; I’m over it now.’ ‘Are you?’ he asked darkly, his eyes burning into hers, seeming to see right into her soul. He knew, she realised, that she hated the thought of returning, but it had to be done. Perhaps having him with her might help. At least she wouldn’t have to trundle her cases through the streets; he could take her right to Karen’s door. And if Angus should happen to be there then Zarek would be her back up. Even if it gave Angus the impression that she had run into the arms of another man, she didn’t care. It would serve him right. He certainly hadn’t thought of her feelings when he had made a play for her friend. She still found it hard to believe that Annie would go behind her back like this. They’d gone through school together, university together. Her betrayal cut as deep as any surgeon’s knife. Unaware that tears were streaming down her face again, Rhianne was shocked when Zarek stood up and pulled her into his arms. Actually, she needed comfort. She needed someone to tell her that it wasn’t the end of the world and that one day she would laugh at it. ‘Life has a habit of testing us,’ said Zarek in his deep, soft voice. ‘There are those of us who go under and there are those who rise above it and turn tragedy into triumph. Which category do you belong to?’ His rich dark eyes bored into hers, never blinking, never moving, and Rhianne knew what he expected her answer to be. ‘The latter,’ she said firmly, resolutely squaring her shoulders. ‘Then I have a suggestion which might help you in your hour of need, and it will certainly help me.’ He stepped back a pace but kept his hands on her shoulders. Rhianne looked at him suspiciously. Why did she think that she might not like what he had to say? If he was going to suggest moving in with him again then— ‘My secretary is away on maternity leave,’ he told her, cutting into her thoughts. ‘I’ve had a series of temps, each one of them as hopeless as the last. The job’s yours if you want it.’ Snatching away from him, she stared in total amazement, her blue eyes wide and disbelieving. Why would he offer her a job when he didn’t even know her? It didn’t make sense. She felt that he would be a devil to work for, and this was why none of the others had come up to his expectations—but to offer her the job! ‘Is it to alleviate your guilt?’ she asked, unable to hide the suspicion in her voice. When he answered, his tone was clipped and tight. ‘I wasn’t the guilty party—you stepped out in front of me, remember. You’re lucky I managed to stop so quickly. But it was foolish to think that you’d want to work for me. I take back the offer. Let’s go. The sooner you’re out of my hair the better.’ Immediately Rhianne regretted her words. She was doing herself a disservice. Where else would she be made such a good offer? ‘You took me by surprise,’ she said quietly. ‘I hadn’t even got round to thinking about finding another job.’ All she’d been able to think about was Angus’s deception, the hurt she’d felt, still did feel. But she had to live; she needed money—why not take Zarek up on his offer? His face was all hard angles, his eyes brilliantly cold. He stood in front of her like a Roman general, tall and imposing, back straight, chin high. There was no sign of the man who had held her close to his heart, who had caused tiny sensations to creep into her traumatised body. ‘Can you reinstate the offer?’ Rhianne’s voice sounded tiny and hesitant when she had hoped it would be strong. She feigned a smile. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight.’ ‘Evidently, or you’d have snapped my hands off. I pay well, but I expect nothing less than perfection. Are you an efficient secretary?’ Don’t you think you ought to have asked me this beforemaking your offer? The question formed in Rhianne’s mind but she didn’t voice it. ‘The best,’ she answered firmly, taking her courage in both hands and sticking her nose up in the air. ‘Then it’s a deal. Come, let us go.’ Zarek realised that he had behaved entirely out of character. He didn’t normally make offers without thinking them through—so what was different on this occasion? Rhianne Pickering was different, that was what. As well as feeling sorry for her, he was intrigued. He wanted to see more of her, find out more about her, and what better way than having her work for him? Although he remained silent on the journey, he was conscious of her presence beside him. She was totally different to any other woman he knew, already getting beneath his skin in a way he’d never expected. He was looking forward to working with her, very much aware that it would give him the perfect opportunity to get to know her better. The block of flats where Rhianne lived were plain and ordinary, and as they went up in the lift to the third floor, standing silently side by side, facing the graffiti-covered doors, he wondered how she could have lived here. She was a classy lady and ought to be spending her time in an equally classy apartment. He tried not to imagine her living with him in the penthouse, or in his villa in Santorini, but somehow he couldn’t help himself. He could imagine her swimming in his pool, all her cares forgotten, laughing and happy, her amazing blue eyes alight with mischief, her white teeth flashing as she smiled into his face. Glancing at her, he saw the way her fingers were curled into her palms, the way her lips were clamped tightly together, a frown drawing her perfectly shaped brows down over her eyes. Without even stopping to think what he was doing, Zarek took her hands into his and turned her to face him. ‘Are you sure you’re up to this?’ Rhianne stiffened, her eyes evading his. ‘It has to be done.’ ‘Do you think he’ll be gone?’ ‘I hope so.’ ‘I’ll support you if necessary,’ he said softly. Although everything that had happened was no fault of his, he felt a powerful urge to look after this woman who had had her world so swiftly turned upside down, who had experienced the worst day of her life, who was alone and vulnerable and needed a male figure to stand by her. ‘There’s really no need.’ Rhianne’s eyes flickered up towards his face, and there was a brief second when she held the contact, when something flowed between them, but he never found out what would have happened because the lift doors opened and she turned swiftly away. He had briefly seen gratitude, but her back was to him now as she turned her key in the lock, hesitating for just a moment before pushing open the door, then, squaring her shoulders, moving inside. Zarek followed more slowly, glancing around the room with interest. Rhianne had been dreading this moment, and her heart drummed loudly, echoing through her body in painful little bursts. All she could see in her mind’s eye was Angus and Annie. Together! To her relief the flat was empty—she hadn’t checked the bedrooms, of course, but there was no sound save for the drum of her heart, and she glanced over her shoulder at Zarek, smiling faintly. He gave a nod of understanding but remained near the door. He had closed it quietly behind him, not intruding, giving her space and time to do whatever she had to do. She was glad of his presence. In truth, she had been dreading coming back here for fear of what she might find. But her sense of relief was short-lived when she saw Angus’s tie draped over the back of a chair. Angus was a rep for a pharmaceutical company and always wore suits and ties. Had he left in a hurry after she’d walked in on their lovemaking? Or was he still here? Annie’s bedroom door was closed, and there was no sound, but Rhianne’s curiosity took her across the room. Without even stopping to think, she pushed open the door. The room was unoccupied, but as her eyes roved the space she saw further evidence that Angus had been here, perhaps even stayed. A pair of shoes in the corner, the sleeve of a shirt hanging out of the washing basket, and Rhianne knew instinctively that if she opened the wardrobe she would see one of his suits hanging there. Actually, now that her initial anger and revulsion was over, Rhianne realised that she ought to have seen something like this coming. Angus had always had a reputation for being a womanizer, but she’d ignored that fact when he’d asked her to go out with him, believing him when he’d said she was special. And when he’d asked her to marry him, she had said yes immediately. Only later, when their wedding arrangements were being made, had she begun to have doubts. There had been whispers that he was seeing other women; she’d actually tackled him about it, but he had convinced her that there was no truth in it, that he loved her and wanted to marry her, and, stupidly, she had believed him. But to bed her best friend! Why, she asked herself, had she never seen the signs before? How had they managed to keep their liaison a secret? She slammed the door shut, and immediately Zarek crossed the room and pulled her hard against him. He didn’t speak; he seemed to know instinctively that no words would make her feel better. Rhianne felt his strength seep into her. It was easy to forget that he was a stranger whom she’d met only a few hours ago. He was her saviour, holding her strongly when she felt like collapsing, stroking her hair, murmuring in his native language, finally, tilting her chin with a gentle finger, compelling her to look into his face. And suddenly he was kissing her—and she was kissing him back! Hungrily and deeply, taking and savouring, her body flooding with alien passion. How could it be happening? How could she react like this when she was still upset by Angus’s cavalier attitude? The truth was Zarek’s kiss meant a whole lot more to her than Angus’s ever had. Angus had considered himself a lady’s man, God’s gift to women—which she had blindly ignored—but Zarek was in a whole different league. She sensed that immediately. He wasn’t taking advantage of her weakness, he was comforting her. And how! Her head began to spin, and when he put her from him she clung to the doorpost for support. Wow! A raging heat consumed her, and she was in such a daze that it was impossible to move. Whether Zarek knew that it was because of his kiss, or whether he thought it was still a reaction to her fianc?’s perfidy, she didn’t know. But, whatever, he took command. ‘Let me help you pack,’ he said. ‘Where are your suitcases?’ Rhianne ineffectively tried to clear her head. He must think her an idiot standing there with her mouth open and her eyes wide. She pointed across the room, and he dragged them from the cupboard. ‘Right, I’ll empty your wardrobe, you do the drawers.’ Never had she imagined that she would let a man, a stranger at that, fold her dresses and skirts and place them carefully into a case. She was mesmerised by the way he did it, by the way he stroked out the creases before putting the next garment on top. Until he looked at her, until his dark eyes smiled and teased. ‘Do I have to do everything?’ Mentally shaking herself, Rhianne slid open drawers and threw her undies into the other case, going hot at the thought that if he hadn’t urged her into action, it would have been his hands lifting her intimate garments. And then the next time she wore them she would have remembered that he had touched them, maybe even covertly examined them. It didn’t bear thinking about. How one comforting kiss could have sent her into such a tizz she didn’t know. Because that was all it had been. He had meant nothing by it. ‘You shouldn’t have kissed me,’ she said, and then wished she hadn’t because it gave too much of herself away. ‘You were hurting, I wanted to kiss you better.’ ‘I’m not a child,’ she shot back, knowing she was overreacting but unable to help herself. She had enjoyed the kiss! Enjoyed it, for heaven’s sake, and that scared the hell out of her! She felt awful. How could this be happening? But worse still, she had promised to work for him. They would be in close proximity for several hours each day. She couldn’t do it. Not with the memory of his kiss hanging between them like a tantalising fruit. ‘I’m very much aware of that fact,’ Zarek informed her, his voice suddenly terse. ‘I am merely here to provide support. What happened was unfortunate. If you can put it behind you then the job is still yours, if you cannot forgive me then I will take you to your friend’s house, and you will never see me again.’ He paused for a moment, his eyes connecting with hers, cool brown fighting hot blue, and Rhianne knew that she had a hard decision to make. CHAPTER THREE TURNING down Zarek’s job offer would be both pointless and senseless, realised Rhianne. She needed a job, she needed something to take her mind off recent events, and work would be her salvation. Feeling vaguely guilty now for saying that he shouldn’t have kissed her, she said quietly, ‘I’d still like the job.’ ‘Then it’s yours,’ answered Zarek, his voice calm now, his eyes steady on hers, one eyebrow rising in a crooked arc. ‘Although I must warn you that I’m a hard taskmaster. I shall work you long hours, probably longer than you’ve ever worked in your life, but the rewards more than make up for it.’ Rhianne’s eyes widened. ‘Rewards?’ She needed to know exactly what those rewards were. ‘I pay well for good work and loyalty.’ She breathed a sigh of relief, chastising herself for thinking that he might have meant rewarding her by taking her out to dinner, for instance. Or to the theatre. Or even suggest a weekend away. Her mind had run amok at the kind of rewards Zarek might offer her. If he hadn’t kissed her, she would probably never have thought along those lines, and even though she had explained away the kiss to her own satisfaction there was one tiny part of her that knew she must be on her guard at all times. Not from Zarek, but from the feelings that had amazingly risen inside her when their lips had touched. It didn’t take long to finish packing, to drop her toiletries into a holdall, and her shoes into carrier bags. When she was finished, she looked around the room. She had shared this flat with Annie for three years. It wasn’t sadness she felt, though, but anger that her friend had cheated on her. ‘I’m ready,’ she announced crisply. Zarek’s eyes met hers, and he looked at her steadily, saying nothing, simply picking up her bags and carrying them down to his car. He wished that there was something he could say or do to make Rhianne feel better. Her face was deathly pale, and he was afraid she was going to pass out. But he knew that to even touch her again would be a mistake. She was proudly beautiful in her unhappiness. Her long eyelashes shading her incredible blue eyes, her chin high and haughty, her mouth—well, he preferred not to think about her mouth because he wanted to kiss it again. He wanted to feel its softness; he wanted to encourage a response. Because he had felt a tiny one, even though she had told him off. Give her a few days, a week or two at the most, and she might return his kisses. Not that this was his prime aim. He felt inordinately sorry for her; he didn’t want to see her walking the streets looking for work. But that earlier kiss had told him that she wasn’t immune, and he liked the fact that she was fighting him. In fact, it had been a long time since he had met anyone who intrigued him as much as she did. The journey to her friend’s house was accomplished in silence. Rhianne did not seem disposed to talk, and Zarek respected that. Karen was already home from work, and as she welcomed Rhianne, she looked curiously at Zarek. But Rhianne didn’t introduce them. She simply turned to him and said, ‘If you give me your business card, I’ll see you at nine sharp in the morning.’ Zarek bowed his head, plucked a card from his wallet and silently handed it to her. ‘Do not be late,’ he warned. ‘Who the hell was that?’ asked Karen the moment he had driven off. ‘My new employer.’ ‘You’re changing your job?’ Rhianne nodded. ‘I’ve been forced to. I was told this morning to clear my desk and get out.’ ‘Are they allowed to do that?’ asked Karen curiously. ‘How does that guy fit into the equation? How did you meet him?’ ‘It’s a long story,’ Rhianne answered. ‘I need a drink before I tell you. Preferably something stronger than tea.’ ‘A G&T it is, then,’ said her friend. ‘And I’ll join you. Why don’t you put your stuff into my spare room while I’m mixing it?’ As soon as they’d sat down, Rhianne blurted out the events of the day, from discovering Angus and Annie to being hit by Zarek. ‘Oh, Rhianne, I’m sorry.’ Karen clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes as wide as saucers. ‘What a terrible day you’ve had!’ ‘Don’t I know it. Luckily I escaped with a few bruises, and that guy who dropped me off was the one who knocked me down. Whether it’s because he felt guilty I don’t know, but he’s giving me a job.’ Her friend’s mouth fell open. ‘Talk about landing on your feet.’ ‘It’s only temporary, but it will do while I look around.’ ‘You don’t sound impressed,’ said Karen. ‘He’s truly gorgeous. Just the man to get you back on your feet.’ Tell me about it, thought Rhianne. Angus had been good-looking, but Zarek was doubly so. With added charisma. Which would be difficult to ignore. ‘I couldn’t care less what he looks like,’ she told her friend fiercely. ‘I’m seriously off men for the foreseeable future.’ ‘I don’t blame you,’ agreed Karen. ‘I still find it hard to believe that Angus has cheated on you with Annie. Did he really think he could get away with it? I wonder how long it’s been going on?’ ‘I don’t think it’s the first time he’s done that sort of thing,’ acknowledged Rhianne bitterly. ‘Someone at work told me ages ago that she’d seen him with another woman. He denied it, of course, and I stupidly believed him. He’s away such a lot with his job, how do I know what he gets up to? But to cheat with my best friend…I shall never forgive him. In fact, I shall never trust another man as long as I live.’ ‘They’re not all the same.’ ‘No?’ she queried, her eyes rising disdainfully. ‘My father cheated on my mother, it’s why they got divorced. I always swore it would never happen to me.’ It was late when they went to bed, and Rhianne slept fitfully, thoughts of both Angus’s betrayal and Zarek’s kiss whirling round and round in her mind. Contrarily, when it was time to get up, she was in her deepest sleep. The alarm woke her, and she jumped out of bed, forgetting her injuries until she put her foot to the floor. It was stiff and painful, and in the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door she saw a huge bruise on her thigh, a vivid reminder of all that had happened yesterday. And today she was starting a new job! She actually felt fit for nothing. She wanted to stay in bed and wallow in her anguish. Both physical and mental. But jobs like the one Zarek had offered didn’t come along very often. The salary he’d mentioned was virtually double what she’d been earning. She’d be a fool to throw it away. Karen had already left, so Rhianne had the house to herself. She showered and dressed carefully in a charcoal-grey suit, teaming it with a white blouse and medium heels. She brushed her thick hair and fastened it up on top of her head, and, with a final glance in the mirror, she pronounced herself ready. The address was in the centre of the city, and she caught the tube in. Living in London, or even its suburbs, there was no point in having a car—even if she could have afforded one. Limping the last few yards to Zarek’s office, her heartbeat quickened. This job offer had been so sudden, so unexpected, that she wasn’t sure whether she was up to it. He was a hard taskmaster, he’d said. Which also meant that she wouldn’t have time to dwell on what had happened. This had to be good. So why wasn’t she feeling happy? Why was she feeling that she would regret taking on this job? Diakos Holdings occupied the top two floors of an impressive building. She was shot upwards in a high-speed lift and was evidently expected because she was shown straight through to Zarek’s office. He stood up from his desk the moment she entered. ‘Good, I’m glad you made it.’ He wore a navy suit and a pale blue shirt and he looked the epitome of a successful businessman. His silk tie was navy also with pale blue polka dots. Everything about him screamed elegance and good taste. ‘Did you have any doubts?’ she enquired, looking curiously around her once her perusal of Zarek’s attire was over. His office was state-of-the-art efficient, cool colours, sleek furniture. There were no paintings on the walls, nothing to take his mind off the job in hand. There was a view over the Thames, but the venetian blinds were angled so that they blotted it out. ‘I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t,’ he answered. ‘We did meet under rather exceptional circumstances, and my offer of a job was not done in the normal way. I would have perfectly understood if—’ ‘Mr Diakos,’ interrupted Rhianne. ‘I gave my word.’ ‘Of course you did,’ he said. ‘I should never have doubted it. You’re a woman of integrity, and I like that. How are you feeling this morning?’ ‘Stiff and painful,’ she answered. ‘Up to working?’ ‘Of course.’ ‘Then we’ll begin.’ Her office was next to Zarek’s with an interconnecting door. In business mode he was very different to the man she had met yesterday. She discovered that this was the newest branch of Diakos Holdings, and that Zarek was here to oversee things. Their head office was in Athens, and they had other branches in Europe and the United States. It was a world of high finance, and the sort of figures that were tossed around caused Rhianne’s head to spin. He worked her hard, giving her no opportunity to think about her problems and when Zarek said they were finished for the day, she was amazed to see that it was nearly seven o’clock. ‘You’ve done well,’ he told her. ‘I didn’t expect you to keep up.’ ‘Do you always work this late?’ she asked. ‘Sometimes later. Is it a problem for you?’ Rhianne shook her head. ‘It helps take my mind off…’ She tailed away, but Zarek knew what she was talking about and nodded. ‘I’d like to repay your hard work by taking you out to dinner. You must be starving.’ Almost immediately Rhianne recalled her suspicions. Her eyes blazed and, with a defiant lift of her chin, she declined his offer. ‘My friend is expecting me. She’ll have a meal cooked by now. In any case, Mr Diakos, I don’t believe in mixing business with pleasure.’ ‘Of course,’ he answered evenly. ‘But bear it in mind for another occasion. Dining with me is part of the deal. It would certainly be business because I rarely switch off. You’d find yourself taking notes.’ Rhianne looked long and hard into his dark eyes and saw nothing other than complete honesty—or was there something more? The intensity she saw there made her heart leap and unwanted heat flood her skin. She felt raw vibes crossing the divide between them. With a shake of her head she turned away, picking up her bag and heading for the door. ‘Goodnight, Mr Diakos.’ ‘Goodnight, Rhianne.’ The next few days followed a similar pattern. He worked her hard, but Rhianne didn’t mind, and then on Friday afternoon Zarek asked whether she would be prepared to work the next day. ‘Is this what you mean by being a hard taskmaster?’ Rhianne asked. ‘Seven o’clock every night and then weekends.’ ‘So it’s a no?’ A wry smile curved his lips as though it was what he had expected. ‘You push yourself too much,’ she pointed out. ‘Is it really necessary to work on a Saturday? I thought everything was up to date.’ Heavens, he’d worked like there was no tomorrow every day, what else was there left to do? ‘On this occasion, yes, because I have to go home to Santorini. My father’s not well, and I want to be on top of things before I go.’ ‘Then of course I’ll come in,’ she answered quickly and quietly. ‘I’m sorry to hear about your father. Is it serious?’ ‘I’m sure it’s not, but my mother needs me. Will you be all right in my absence? I know you must still be hurting over your fianc?’s indiscretions. Have you spoken to him yet?’ Rhianne shook her head, and the pins came out of her hair, causing it to tumble about her shoulders in a cloud of auburn waves. She had always been so careful to keep it neat and tidy for work that she felt embarrassed, putting her hands to it and trying to fix it back up. ‘Don’t,’ said Zarek at once. ‘Your hair is your crowning glory; leave it loose. I like it that way.’ He liked it! What was that supposed to mean? He wasn’t supposed to like anything about her except her efficiency. Personal issues were not allowed. Hadn’t they straightened that out after The Kiss? ‘Don’t you think you should speak to him?’ he asked quietly. ‘His defection was a turning point in your relationship. You need to tell him that; you need to make it perfectly clear that he has no part to play in your future— unless you’re hoping that—’ ‘You think I haven’t tried?’ she cut in crossly. ‘His mobile phone’s always turned off. He never answers his house phone either. I’ve even tried going round, but there’s never anyone at home.’ ‘So the whole thing is still an issue between you?’ ‘I suppose so.’ ‘How about your wedding plans?’ ‘I’ve cancelled them,’ she announced firmly. ‘And your friend, the one whose flat you shared,’ he persisted. ‘What does she have to say about the matter?’ Rhianne’s eyes flashed a furious blue. ‘She’s uncontactable as well—if there is such a word. It’s my guess they’ve run away together, gone into hiding somewhere. And if she can’t be decent enough to speak to me and apologise, then I never want to see her again.’ Her voice rose until she was speaking far more shrilly and loudly than she realised, verging on the hysterical. Zarek immediately took her into his arms—and, foolishly, Rhianne didn’t stop him. The whole issue had been building all week. Not being able to contact either of them was too frustrating for words. She could have thrown herself into the Thames for all they seemed to care. ‘You are right, Rhianne,’ he said gently. ‘They are not worthy of you. Why don’t you come to Santorini with me.’ Rhianne felt her heart stop beating. Everything around her stilled. The world grew silent. And then, just as suddenly, she felt a roar in her ears, and she clutched the back of her chair for support. ‘I think you know what my answer will be,’ she said coolly. ‘I like working for you, Mr Diakos, and I like the job, but as for anything else, it’s out of the question. I’ve learnt a huge lesson, and I am nobody’s fool. I’m grateful for the job, but if you want more from me, then I’m afraid I will have to quit.’ She snatched up her bag and would have walked out of the door if he hadn’t crossed the room in double-quick time and grabbed her arm. ‘I have no ulterior motive.’ His voice was icy-cold now, his eyes, more grey than brown at this moment, were like flint. ‘How could you think like that? I didn’t have to come to your rescue. I could have left you lying right there in the road. Your attitude sometimes makes me wish I had.’ ‘Then you shouldn’t make improper suggestions,’ she shot back, trying unsuccessfully to snatch away. ‘Improper?’ He turned her to face him, gripping both her arms, effectively making her his prisoner. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about. And if this is all the thanks I get for helping you out then perhaps it would be as well if you did leave.’ He let her go, but he didn’t move away, and Rhianne found that she couldn’t move either. For some reason she was transfixed to the spot, her eyes locked into his, her wild heartbeat echoing in her ears. ‘The offer to come to Santorini was because I thought you could do with a break. There won’t be much work for you here in my absence, and I didn’t want you to spend time worrying about your broken love life.’ Rhianne began to feel slightly foolish. ‘I appreciate your concern, but I really will be all right.’ ‘Do you still want to quit?’ he asked, his tone quieter now, but his eyes remained hard as they looked into hers. She shook her head. ‘I’d be a fool. Good jobs are hard to come by.’ ‘So I’ll see you when I get back?’ She nodded. He fetched a card out of his pocket and scribbled something on it. ‘This is the number of my private cell phone. If you need me, just ring, even if it’s only to talk.’ Rhianne’s fine brows lifted, and her eyes widened. He sounded as though he really meant it. ‘I don’t think I’ll be doing that.’ Nevertheless she took the card and slipped it into her bag. It was not until she got home that the full implication of what he had done hit her. He was, in fact, offering her a lifeline. He still thought she was cut up about Angus’s defection—which she was but was bravely trying not to show it—and he wanted to act as her—counsellor. She could ring him and talk things through; that was what he was saying. He clearly felt involved after the accident. First he had taken her home, then he’d given her a job, and then offered her a holiday in Santorini. She was sorry to hear his father was ill—it was not going to be a pleasant visit. And she’d done the right thing in refusing to join him. He’d need to spend time with his family, he wouldn’t want or need her hanging around. It was not as if they were friends—they were nothing more than acquaintances, really. They’d met by accident, and now she worked for him. Full stop. That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. When Rhianne went in to work on Saturday morning, she was half afraid that Zarek might ask her again to accompany him to Santorini, and she didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when he never mentioned it. Instead, he was in full business mode, and she felt none of the electricity that had passed between them. It could have been in her imagination, of course, but somehow she doubted it. Zarek was too masculine, too gorgeous, not to let it intrude into his everyday life. She imagined that most women would fall at his feet, and she probably intrigued him because she was different. It wasn’t that she didn’t see what a striking man he was—she saw everything—but she had no intention of getting involved with him or any man. She’d lost her trust in men. And Zarek was so incredibly sexy that it would be easy to fall for him—and she couldn’t afford to do that. Not to be tossed to one side again when he had finished with her. Admittedly, some affairs lasted, some marriages were happy and lasted, but they were the exception rather than the rule. She had no intention of becoming another statistic. Once was enough. Êîíåö îçíàêîìèòåëüíîãî ôðàãìåíòà. Òåêñò ïðåäîñòàâëåí ÎÎÎ «ËèòÐåñ». Ïðî÷èòàéòå ýòó êíèãó öåëèêîì, êóïèâ ïîëíóþ ëåãàëüíóþ âåðñèþ (https://www.litres.ru/margaret-mayo-3/the-santorini-marriage-bargain/?lfrom=688855901) íà ËèòÐåñ. Áåçîïàñíî îïëàòèòü êíèãó ìîæíî áàíêîâñêîé êàðòîé Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, ñî ñ÷åòà ìîáèëüíîãî òåëåôîíà, ñ ïëàòåæíîãî òåðìèíàëà, â ñàëîíå ÌÒÑ èëè Ñâÿçíîé, ÷åðåç PayPal, WebMoney, ßíäåêñ.Äåíüãè, QIWI Êîøåëåê, áîíóñíûìè êàðòàìè èëè äðóãèì óäîáíûì Âàì ñïîñîáîì.
Íàø ëèòåðàòóðíûé æóðíàë Ëó÷øåå ìåñòî äëÿ ðàçìåùåíèÿ ñâîèõ ïðîèçâåäåíèé ìîëîäûìè àâòîðàìè, ïîýòàìè; äëÿ ðåàëèçàöèè ñâîèõ òâîð÷åñêèõ èäåé è äëÿ òîãî, ÷òîáû âàøè ïðîèçâåäåíèÿ ñòàëè ïîïóëÿðíûìè è ÷èòàåìûìè. Åñëè âû, íåèçâåñòíûé ñîâðåìåííûé ïîýò èëè çàèíòåðåñîâàííûé ÷èòàòåëü - Âàñ æä¸ò íàø ëèòåðàòóðíûé æóðíàë.