Kate Walker - Chosen by the Greek Tycoon

‘I never…’ Skye began, but she was interrupted by the sound of the telephone shrilling through the room. She glanced in the direction of the sound, but it was more important that Theo should know she hadn’t been shocked at his father’s treatment of him because of the money he had lost.

‘That wasn’t what was on my mind!’ she continued. ‘I—’

Once more the sound of the phone cut into her words.

‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ Theo asked.

‘I’m not sure I should. Your father…’

Cyril had made it plain that she was not to interfere in his life. That she was only to be a decorative wife on his arm and in his bed.

‘It will probably be him anyway. And if it isn’t—well, the reason you’re here is that you will be Kyria Antonakos in a matter of weeks. So if you’re determined to go through with it, you’d better get a taste for acting as the mistress of the house.’

He made a point of walking away to the open doors again, giving her time and privacy for the call.

It was Cyril and what he had to say, the tone he used, made icy footsteps dance up and down her spine. He had never, obviously, treated her with much affection, but now his tone was positively brusque, his need to get away quickly desperately worrying.

Skye was suddenly a prey to a terrible fear that something had gone wrong. Had something happened to make Cyril change his mind so that even the sacrifice she was prepared to make wasn’t enough? The thought made her realise just how terribly isolated she was, how alone. But with Theo so close at hand she didn’t dare to ask, and Cyril issued his last order and switched off the phone even as she was struggling to find a reply.

When Theo swung round again to face her she was still standing by the table, sharp teeth digging into her lower lip, a frown of concern between her brows.

‘Theo will look after you,’ Cyril had said, and right at this moment she couldn’t even begin to think which was worse—this terrible, dragging sense of loneliness and fear, or the thought of being alone with Theo once more.

‘He’s staying in Athens tonight,’ she said flatly when she saw that Theo was looking at her. ‘Not coming back till tomorrow. He—he said you’d look after me.’

She lifted her eyes as she spoke, her dove-grey gaze locking with his, and Theo wondered sharply just what was going through her mind.

He knew what was going through his.

His father was not coming back until tomorrow. Twenty-four hours alone with Skye.

Twenty-four hours alone with temptation. A night of temptation.

He said you’d look after me.

Oh, Theos ! His father had no suspicion at all just how he would like to look after this woman, or he wouldn’t have left her in his care.

He had already been fighting himself desperately for more than forty-eight hours. Could he manage to keep his feelings on a tight rein for another day, here, on his own in the house with her?

It was not something he wanted to risk.

‘I have things I need to do.’

‘All right.’

She wouldn’t look at him as she spoke, but seemed absorbed in a painting that hung on the far wall, concentrating fiercely on the image of Persephone.

‘You’ll be all right?’

‘I’ll be fine.’

It was less certain this time, the words faintly uneven. But she still wouldn’t look at him.

Was there a thickness in her voice? And the only time he had ever seen anyone blink that hard it had been because they were blinking back…

‘Skye?’

Perversely, now that he had what he wanted, Theo found he was more than reluctant to leave. A faint flicker of a smile touched Skye’s mouth as she watched him hesitate. But it was a cynical, disturbingly weary smile. And at last she looked at him, or at least she turned her head in his direction, but her unfocused gaze seemed to go straight over his shoulder, avoiding his eyes.

‘What are you trying to do?’ she questioned with a rough-edged note to the words, as if her words were unravelling as she spoke. ‘Do you want to prove that I can’t let you go? That that…electricity that you think is between us will make it impossible to part from you?’

‘I’d be a fool to think that,’ he said with dark softness, ‘when I know only too well that you could walk out without a second thought. You’ve already done it once.’

‘I told you it was just for that night.’

‘And I told you I don’t do one-night stands.’

This time when she blinked her gaze seemed to come back into focus and her dark, cloudy eyes met his just once, then flinched away again.

‘Are you claiming you wanted more?’

‘It was certainly an experience that I would have liked to repeat if you hadn’t bolted out of there like a frightened rabbit before I even had time to wake up.’

‘I did not bolt !’

‘You sure as hell didn’t hang around. What was it, sweet Skye? A sudden realisation that you had a conscience after all?’

‘It wasn’t that at all.’

Skye aimed for defiance, almost made it, but her voice slipped a little on the last couple of words. But she felt as if she were fighting for her life here and she had no intention of letting him see it.

The acid burn of misery ate into her soul at the memory of the way she had felt when she had left that hotel room. At the time she had thought that nothing could make her feel worse. Now she knew how wrong she had been.

‘I said at the time that it was my way or nothing. And you agreed.’

‘I went along with what you said,’ Theo corrected coldly. ‘I don’t recall signing any agreement in blood. I was fool enough to think you might wait around at least for breakfast.’

‘I told you how it would be. Why should you complain when I stuck to my word?’

‘I didn’t like the way it made me feel.’

‘And that was?’

‘Used.’

It was the last thing she had expected and the single word made her thoughts reel in shock.

Used.

He had felt used ?

How did he think his father had made her feel?

‘Join the club!’ she flashed back, her spinning brain unable to think of anything less provocative in the few seconds that were at her disposal.

‘What?’

For a moment she thought that once more Theo’s grasp of English had failed him and that was why he was frowning his lack of comprehension. But the next second she realised how dangerously close she had come to giving away the true details of her situation.

‘Well, you have to admit it’s unusual for a man to feel that way…’ She covered her tracks hastily. ‘That’s how most women feel when a man only wants a one-night stand. It doesn’t do any harm for you to get a taste of your own medicine.’

‘I did not use you!’

‘We both used each other. It was just—what was it you said? A night of meaningless passion.’

‘Meaningless is the truth. You couldn’t get out of there quick enough!’

Oh, if only he knew the reality of it!

Skye felt tears threaten and fought against them hard, tightening her jaw and clamping her mouth tight shut against the little cry of distress that almost escaped her.

If only he knew how she had felt that morning when she had woken to find herself curled up close to his long, warm body, clasped tight in the strength of his arms.

For a few, wonderful moments reality hadn’t quite sunk in and she had lain there, keeping her eyes closed, a small, ridiculous smile on her face, just enjoying the sensation of being held like this. How she had wished that she could just stay there, held close, and never, ever move again.

And when she had finally left the room, her face had been streaked with tears. Tears of loss for a man who hadn’t even known who she was and—if fate was kind—would never know.