Tessa Radley - Billionaire Heirs - The Kyriakos Virgin Bride

She pushed back her streaming hair. In a blur of horror she stared out the window. Below, Zac’s huge house was retreating, growing smaller. She let out a wail of disbelief, of sheer terror.

“Hush, you are making a scene.”

Pandora realised she was sobbing. “That’s all you can say? You kidnap me, then tell me to be quiet?”

“You’re crying.” His hand smoothed her hair.

“Of course I’m crying.” She twisted her head away from his touch. “I don’t believe you! Who the hell do you think you are?”

But she knew. He was Zac Kyriakos. One of the richest men in the world. So powerful that he could do what he liked with her. No one would stand in his way.

When the descent started, Pandora lifted her face out of her hands and glimpsed the dark bronze disc of the sun glowing in the western sky against a fiery display of clouds. Out of the window she watched the darkening ground rushing up beneath the helicopter with a sense of frozen horror.

They were going to crash.

She was going to die. Panic bit into her and she struggled not to scream, knowing once she started she’d never stop.

Her fingers twisted around the soft, colourful scarf she’d rescued from her handbag and clung to like a talisman during the flight. She closed her eyes, hating the helplessness. And tried not to think about it. Not about what was happening to her now. And certainly not about the twisted metal wreck that burned in her darkest nightmares.

At last the helicopter rocked and settled on the ground. A wave of uncontrollable anger swept her. How dared Zac do this to her?

Grabbing her handbag, she stormed to the door. The instant the pilot opened the door, she shot out, her legs almost collapsing under her as they met solid ground.

“Slow down.” Zac was at her side, his hand under her elbow. She shrugged it off.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped at him.

“You could’ve fallen.”

“I would rather fall than have you touch me.” Head bent to avoid the slowing rotor blades, she didn’t look back as she scurried away. Once safe from the blades, she straightened. The rough fingers of the evening sea wind tugged her hair and the strands whipped across her eyes.

“That’s not what you were saying last night. Then it was Oh, Zac. Yes, Zac! Last night you couldn’t get enough of my touch.”

At the taunting whisper, she turned and glared, brushing the hair out of her face with an impatient hand.

In the dusky light she could see the strange smile twisting his face, adding a cynical edge that caused her temper to flare higher.

“That was last night,” she bit out. “Before I discovered that you’d misled me. Used me. I hate you, you know that? I’ve never said that to anyone in my life before. But I mean it—I really, really hate you.”

The caustic, knowing smile vanished. For a second, stark shock flared in his eyes and he looked shaken by her response. A shadow fell across his face and all emotion leached out, leaving his gloriously sensual features hard and cold.

“Get a hold of yourself, Pandora. You’re starting to sound hysterical.”

The icy tone shook her. He spun away, and to her consternation Pandora watched as he strode across the flat rooftop, his suit jacket flapping in the wind. Anguish twisted inside her. How had it come to this? What had happened to the affinity, the sense of rightness between her and Zac?

Had he ever cared about her?

Or had it all been an elaborate charade?

Before they’d left Athens he’d said he was taking her somewhere they could talk. A quick look around the castellated parapets, sheer, steep white walls that ended on a slab of black rocks licked by the lazy sea far below revealed this was not quite the kind of venue she’d had in mind. Jeez, not even Rapunzel would’ve gotten out of here. Where on earth were they?

All she knew was that this godforsaken place was where Zac intended to have their showdown. She set her jaw and vowed not to let him walk all over her. She had some stuff to say to him, too. Her stomach turned over just thinking about that. But what choice did she have? Straight talk was all that was left.

And then she’d be off home to New Zealand on the very next flight. And Zac Kyriakos, his handsome face, gorgeous body and immense wealth could go to hell. She wasn’t staying married to a man who didn’t love her.

Ahead, Zac disappeared through an arch into the castle. Or eyrie. Or whatever this whitewashed structure was. Pandora was annoyed to find herself scurrying in his wake. She paused in the shadows at the top of a set of stone stairs that spiralled down into the heart of some kind of tower where wall sconces lit the whitewashed walls. Zac was already two levels down, his footfalls ringing against the hard stone.

“What about my luggage?” she called down.

“Georgios will attend to it,” Zac tossed over his shoulder without slowing his pace.

“I hate you.”

The staccato beat of his shoes against the stairs drummed the horrible words into a crazy kind of rhythm inside Zac’s head and left him reeling.

I hate you. I hate you. The echo grew louder and louder until he wanted to bang his forehead against the curving walls of the tower that surrounded him and watch the stone to crumble into dust … the way his dreams had.

But he couldn’t. He was Zac Kyriakos. That kind of behaviour did not become him. So he squared his shoulders like the man he was, the man he’d been born and raised to be, and tried to convince himself that it wasn’t relief that coursed through him when at last Pandora’s footfalls sounded on the stone stair treads far above.

Good, she was following.

He slowed his pace a fraction. There’d been a moment after they’d disembarked from the helicopter when he’d wondered if she would. But she’d given in. He told himself that he’d never expected any other outcome, never doubted she would do exactly as he wanted.

Even though she hated him.

Zac was waiting when Pandora finally exited the stairwell onto a wide terra-cotta-tiled landing that branched off to a narrow kitchen on one side and a huge sitting area to the other. Pandora caught a glimpse of stainless steel and pale marble bench tops in the unexpectedly modern galley-style kitchen before Zac gestured her forward.

“This way.” He spoke in a cold, distant tone, and nerves balled her stomach in a tight knot.

She followed him into a large, airy space—and gasped at the sight of the sunset-streaked sky. Glassed on three sides, the space gave an impression of height and light and freedom, of seeing the world from the perspective of a gull in the sky. A rapid scan of her surroundings revealed a pair of long ivory leather couches separated by a heavy bleached-wood coffee table. An immense cream flokati rug added softness to the room without breaking the monochromatic colour scheme. Like the stairwell, the walls in here were covered with rough plaster and washed with white. And nothing detracted from the incredible impact of the sky and sea turned gold by the setting sun.

Except the brooding man standing an arm’s length from her.

Pandora gave him a quick glance and looked away, a frown pleating her brow. So he was affronted because she didn’t want him near her? Because she’d lashed out that she hated him? What the hell did he expect given the way he’d behaved?

Kidnapping her.

Thrusting her into that flying monster.

Agitated, she brushed back the tendrils of hair that the buffeting wind on the rooftop had tousled. “You know, I haven’t been up in a helicopter for years.” Her voice shook with a mixture of anguish and rage and long-suppressed emotion.