Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

About the Author

Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Copyright

“Wait, Alex. You said tofollow this chemistry to itslogical conclusion. Butmarriage is a big step—areyou sure you’re readyfor it? You have been abachelor for an awfullong time.”

Saffron deliberately lowered her voice, a slight tremor to her tone.

“Marriage? Who mentioned marriage?” He let go of her and stepped back as if he had been stung.

“I’m sorry if I misunderstood,” she said softly, acting for all she was worth. “But I’m afraid that’s the only way you’ll ever get me.”

JACQUELINE BAIRD began writing as a hobby when her family objected to the smell of her oil painting, and immediately became hooked on romance. She loves traveling, and worked her way around the world from Europe to the Americas and Australia, returning to marry her teenage sweetheart She lives in the north of England, and has two grown-up sons. She spends most weekends with husband, Jim, sailing their small boat

A Devious Desire

Jacqueline Baird

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

SAFFRON flopped back down on the plastic chair at the roadside cafe and grinned at the elderly lady seated at the opposite side of the table. ‘I’ve paid the bill and asked the proprietor to call us a taxi. It’s half six and we have to be back on board by seven.’

‘Don’t fuss, child, and finish your wine.’

‘Your wish is my command,’ she quipped. ‘But remember that is your third glass. Don’t blame me if your arthritis plays up later on.’ And with a wry smile tugging her wide mouth Saffron picked up her glass and sipped the sparkling wine. She hadn’t the heart to deny Anna a few moments longer at the cafe in the ancient walled town of Rhodes. A cafe Anna had spent hours trying to find!

‘What was so important about this particular place?’ Saffron asked for the umpteenth time, but not really expecting an answer. Anna had been very secretive about the reason behind her search for this cafe, but Saffron wasn’t complaining.

A month ago she had been working as a beauty and aromatherapist for a London agency that provided a personal service to clients in their own homes, and also to a few of the more enlightened city hospitals, when a request for a home visit from Anna Statis’s doctor had arrived. The lady had had a fall and badly bruised her shoulder, which, combined with arthritis in her knee, had left her in a little difficulty with mobility. He had considered that aromatherapy might help her. Saffron was given the job. Ten days later she had a six-month contract as Anna’s personal therapist, and for the past week they had been cruising the Greek Islands on the liner the Pallas Corinthian. Life could not be more perfect. Saffron sighed in contentment, and raised her glass to her lips.

They had just spent an enjoyable afternoon walking around Rhodes, discovering the Street of the Knights and marvelling at the inns that housed the Knights of St John. Then finally they had found this small bar, much to Anna’s delight and Saffron’s relief; she did not want the old lady overtired.

‘My son was conceived here.’

‘What?’ Saffron jerked upright and swallowed the wine, almost choking with laughter. ‘You’re having me on. In a pavement cafe?’ Her sparkling green eyes clashed with misty blue ones.

‘It is true. I was a dancer on a cruise ship. Very daring for a well brought up English girl in my era. The ship visited Rhodes regularly and I met and fell in love with a handsome Greek, Nikos Statis, and in a room above this café my son Alexandros was conceived forty years ago this week.’

Saffron glanced at her employer, not sure whether to believe her. In her mid-sixties, her once blonde hair, now white, was swept up in a loose chignon, revealing the delicate features of a still beautiful face, but a sad, reminiscent smile hazed her blue eyes.

‘And now you’re back again. How romantic,’ Saffron murmured. But privately she had her doubts. Within a week of taking up her live-in job as Anna’s therapist she had watched in awe as the old lady had persuaded her doctor that what she needed to make a quick recovery was a cruise! Anna might look fragile, but she had an amazing ability to get her own way.

‘Romantic! I thought so at the time,’ Anna continued softly. ‘But I was wrong—so wrong.’

Saffron was intrigued and, eager to hear more, prompted, ‘Wrong…?’

‘Some day I will tell you my life story. I feel the need to tell someone, and in the short time we have been together I feel closer to you than I have to anyone in years. Probably because you have been on your own and lonely most of your life and so have I.’

‘But you have a son.’ Anna was always talking about him, but he neglected the woman shamefully. As far as Saffron was aware he had never so much as called his mother since she had started working for Anna.

‘Yes, true.’

Obviously they were not close. A typical selfish male, Saffron thought, but at that moment a taxi drew up at the kerb, and she knew any further revelations would have to wait.

Anna drained her glass and in a lightning mood change grinned. ‘Finding this place today has helped me to lay some ghosts. But now we’d better make tracks, hmm?’

‘Yes,’ Saffron agreed and, standing up, she added with a smile, ‘I’m glad we found your cafe. You do look more content.’

‘Content! Yes, do you know I really think I am? Thank you, Saffy.’

With a tender glance at her boss, Saffron swung her shoulder-bag over her shoulder and gently put a hand under a frail elbow, helping Anna to her feet. She waited and watched as the other woman gave one last lingering look at the top floor of the building and was just about to help her into the car when to Saffron’s astonishment someone yelled, ‘Get the hell out of the way!’ and grabbed the strap of her bag, hard fingers scraping her bare flesh.

Her hand slipped from Anna and she cried a warning. ‘Look out! A thief!’

Years in an orphanage, and looking after herself for most of her life, along with classes in self-defence, had taught Saffron something, and with lightning reflexes her arm shot up, her finger and thumb nipping the front of her attacker’s throat while her knee crashed up and into a very male groin. Spinning on her heel, she gently pushed Anna back into her seat. ‘Don’t worry, Anna, I’ve got it under control.’

Saffron shot her a worried glance, and was amazed to see that Anna was not in the least fazed by the unpleasant incident. In fact she was smiling, then chuckling, then laughing!

‘It’s not funny—we were nearly robbed.’

‘Oh, Saffy, dear, if I ever had any doubt about your suitability for the job, I don’t now!’ Amid much laughter mingled with very masculine groans she went on, ‘I have never seen anything so funny in my whole life.’

Saffron, adrenalin still pumping, had no idea how magnificent she looked. At five feet five, with her red-gold hair a wild tangle about her lovely face, and dressed in neat white tailored shorts, braless under a navy strapless tube-top, her green eyes flashing fire, she looked like some avenging Valkyrie.

‘What is so funny?’ she demanded, and then spared a glance for the man she had felled. ‘This man was trying to attack us.’ She could not see his face, but she could hear his moans. He was folded double and clutching a very private part of himself.

They had gathered quite a crowd, including the proprietor of the café, who asked, ‘Shall I call the police?’

The police…Saffron hesitated. They had to be back on board soon; if they were delayed by the police they would miss the boat. She glanced at Anna, only to see the other woman wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes with one hand while waving the other frantically in the air as she got out over her amusement. ‘No police, no police.’

‘Then let’s get in the taxi and go.’ Saffron was suddenly conscious of the crowd and being the centre of attention and she did not like it. She hitched her bag more firmly on her shoulder and cast an uneasy glance at her assailant, who had dragged himself to the seat she had recently vacated, and she saw his face…

Night-black hair fell in tousled curls over a broad forehead; perfectly arched brows framed glittering black eyes. The nose was large and slightly hooked, the jaw square, and wide mouth completed the rugged features, but the lips were pulled back in a grimace of pain. Her gaze dropped to his broad shoulders; a plain white T-shirt clung lovingly to a broad chest, the faint trace of dark body hair showing through the fine fabric, and brief denim cut-offs exposed the considerable length of tanned muscular legs, also with a downy covering of black hair. He looked dangerously tough, and suddenly Saffron had serious doubts about what she had done. Her legs felt weak, and she was amazed at her own success in overpowering him. If she had got a good look at him before, she would never have tried…

Odd! He also looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t be…Dismissing the uncomfortable thought, she said quickly, ‘Come on, Anna; get in the taxi. We don’t need to bother with his sort; the police will catch him soon enough.’ She opened the car door and put her other hand under Anna’s elbow, urging her up and into the taxi. She was desperate to get away. The man looked as if he was getting his wind back and Saffron did not want to be around when he did.

‘No, no, Saffy, you don’t understand,’ Anna said, still chuckling. ‘This is my son Alexandros. Alex.’

‘What? Your son!’ Incredulity widened her green eyes to their fullest extent. ‘I don’t believe you. He can’t be…’

‘But he is. Honestly…’ Anna, finally controlling her amusement, answered seriously.

‘Thank you, Mother. I’m glad you found my distress so hilariously funny.’ A deep rich voice broke into the women’s exchange.

Saffron felt as if she had been pole-axed, then her lips began to twitch in the beginnings of a smile as she thought that actually it was the man who was pole-axed, and by her! She knew it was completely the wrong time to find the situation amusing but she could not help it— a snort of laughter escaped her before she could control herself.

‘And as for you, whoever you are,’ the deep voice continued harshly, ‘I would not laugh if I were you; if anyone is calling the police around here it will be me for your completely unwarranted attack upon my person.’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Alex, listen to yourself! You sound like a pompous ass,’ his mother responded, and, grabbing Saffron’s arm, she added, ‘I think you’re right, dear; let’s get in the taxi and go; we don’t want to miss the boat.’

But their escape was not to be so easy. With a speed that belied his great size and his recent injury, Alex was on his feet and ushering his mother and Saffron into the back seat of the cab. Sliding in beside them, he then issued instructions to the taxi driver in Greek, and they were on their way.

‘Now, Mother, perhaps you will tell me what you are doing with this red-headed devil——’ he cast a venomous glance at Saffron who was squashed between them, and then looked past her to his mother ‘—on a cruise ship touring the islands.’

‘Having a holiday,’ Anna said bluntly. ‘Saffy is my new companion—and before you say another word Dr Jenkins thoroughly approves.’

Saffron felt the dark eyes fixed on her, but she kept her head bent, hiding her face. After the excitement of the past half-hour, she was slowly beginning to realise just what she had done. Assaulted her employer’s own son. So much for the job of a lifetime, she thought morosely. She had been counting on this six-month contract with all living expenses provided to boost her bank balance to the magical amount that would enable her to set up her own beauty clinic. She could see her dream disintegrating before her eyes. Burnt to ashes by the heat of anger that shimmered between the taxi’s occupants.

Suddenly Alex aimed a torrent of rapid-fire Greek at Anna, and as if to punctuate his words he stretched a long arm along the back of the seat to touch his mother’s shoulder. At the brush of his arm against the back of her neck Saffron almost jumped out of her skin, a tingling awareness making the small hairs on her neck stand on end. Immediately she was shockingly conscious of his powerful masculinity and bitterly resented the fact.

She had met his type before—hard and ruthless. Even his mother had hinted that they were not very close, and she was lonely. Now Saffron could understand why, given the autocratic way he had bundled them both into the taxi like so much unwanted baggage. ‘Arrogant pig!’ she thought, then to her horror realised that she had spoken out loud, and the full fury of glittering black eyes was turned on her red face.

‘Woman, if you want to live to see tomorrow I suggest you keep your mouth shut. You have done quite enough harm already. Kidnapping Mother, attacking me…One more word and you will be in a Greek gaol so fast your feet won’t touch the ground——’

‘That’s enough, Alex,’ Anna cut in sternly. ‘A taxi is not the place to argue, and in any case we have arrived.’

Alex, without another word, got out of the car and walked around the other side, opening the door for his mother. Saffron slid out on to the dock and glanced up at the cruise liner, then rather warily over the top of the taxi at the other two. As she watched she saw Alex smile and bend down to brush a light kiss on the top of Anna’s head before paying the taxi driver then gently taking her arm and leading her up the gangway.

Saffron hesitated. Perhaps she was wrong. Maybe Alex did not neglect his mother. As she thought back to the scene at the café it struck her. For a woman who said she hardly saw her son, Anna had not been in the least surprised when he had suddenly appeared. In fact she had thought it a huge joke. Odd. Very odd…

A soft sigh fluttered past Saffron’s lips. What did it matter? She had little doubt that in a very short time she was going to be out of a job. It would have been nice to finish the cruise but if the murderous expression on Alex Statis’s face earlier was anything to go by she would probably be on the next flight out of Rhodes back to England.

But in that she was mistaken…

Once back on board she deemed it wise to give mother and son some time alone and grasped the chance to speak to a fellow traveller, a nice American gentleman who was travelling alone. She listened to him wax lyrical about the beauty of Lindos—the destination of the shipboard excursion that day—then slowly made her way to the cabin.

As soon as she walked in the door she immediately sensed the tension in the air. Anna was sitting in an armchair, her lovely face composed, her hands folded neatly in her lap, while Alex paced up and down the cabin like a caged tiger.

‘Don’t hurry, will you, Miss Martin?’ He fixed her with piercing black eyes, and she shivered at the force of his anger.

‘I wasn’t aware there was any hurry,’ she snapped back. ‘After all, we are on the boat for three more days.’

‘You are not.’ Saffron’s heart sank at his words. So she was to be sacked! But to her astonishment he continued, ‘You are to pack for the pair of you, and be ready to leave as soon as possible. I will arrange with the captain to delay sailing until you are ready, but hurry—every extra minute over departure time is going to cost me dearly.’

‘What?’ Saffron wasn’t sure she had heard him right. They were leaving the ship, but to go where? ‘Where?’ she exclaimed.

‘My yacht. And I have no time for questions. Mama insists you fulfil the six-month contract; she seems to think you are invaluable to her.’

His eyes swept over her from the top of her red head, lingering for a moment too long on the proud thrust of her breasts beneath the brief top she wore, and on down to her narrow waist, slim hips and long legs, then back to her face, his expression saying it all. He couldn’t see why! Then, with two lithe strides, he was beside her.

Her hands curled into fists as she fought down the instinctive urge to push him away; he was much too close. She stiffened, banishing the blush that rose to her cheeks with a mighty effort of self-control. There was something about the man that threatened her in ways she didn’t understand. Sexually, she freely admitted, but it was more than that. On some deeper, darker level he threatened her. She knew it instinctively, but not why. She raised her eyes to his harsh face and searched the rough-hewn features with the growing conviction that somehow—somewhere—she knew him. Then suddenly his words penetrated her puzzled mind.

‘I have met your kind before, and I am not so sure you’re of any value,’ he drawled cynically. ‘More likely a costly mistake.’

Saffron gasped in outrage at his comment, and raised her hand to slap the swine’s face. But he caught her hand in his and continued insultingly, ‘However, against my better judgement I have agreed to allow you to stay for my mother’s sake.’

Saffron felt the electric shock the length of her arm as his strong fingers tightened on hers deliberately. ‘Smile,’ he hissed, and added loudly for Anna’s benefit, ‘We have a deal, Saffron. Shake on it.’ And she was forced to comply with the social nicety before he finally let go of her hand.

She was still reeling when he bent his head and murmured, as he brushed past her through the open door, ‘But don’t think I’ve forgotten what happened earlier; I’m going to make you pay, you green-eyed witch,’ and left, slamming the door behind him.

Anger and fear mingled in her eyes. The arrogant devil! How dared he threaten her? For two pins she would walk out now, but, catching Anna’s expression, she fought down the impulse. The appeal in the older woman’s eyes was unmistakable.

‘I apologise for my son; he can be rather domineering, I know, but he does have my best interest at heart. You will still come with me, won’t you? I need you.’

‘I’m not sure it’s a good idea,’ Saffron said drily. ‘Your son and I are obviously not going to get on, especially after I nearly crippled him.’ A fleeting smile curved her mouth as she remembered his discomfort earlier.

‘That wasn’t your fault; I’m sure he won’t hold it against you, Saffy. In any case the yacht is huge and if I know Alex we will rarely see him; he always brings one of his women with him, if not more than one, and of course the family.’ She frowned, adding cryptically, ‘That is the main reason I wanted to come on a public cruise. It’s much more fun with strangers around.’

Saffron’s heart sank. How could a son treat his mother so cavalierly? Take her on holiday, then leave her to her own devices while he enjoyed himself with his latest sex object? She was sure that was all women meant to such an aggressively macho man as Alex and his own mother had more or less confirmed it

‘But the doctor did say you had to have no stress. Maybe it would be better for you if you told your son the truth. You fell and got a nasty shock, but soon you will be as good as new.’ Anna had sworn both her doctor and Saffron to secrecy over her accident, insisting that she did not want her son to know and fuss over her. Personally Saffron thought it was way past time her son fussed over her, instead of leaving her in London all the time while he apparently based himself in Greece when he wasn’t jetting around the world. ‘I’m sure if he knew he would stay with you, and you won’t need me.’

‘You don’t understand, dear. I can’t tell Alex; I know what he will say—that I’m too old to live on my own. He will insist on my giving up my London home and staying with the family. I would hate that. I like—I need my independence. Please say you will stay…’

Saffron sighed inwardly. She could not desert her charge, however much she might dislike the poor woman’s son. But ‘poor woman’ was not really accurate. She smiled to herself. Even the mighty Alex Statis had bowed to his mother’s demand and allowed Saffron to stay. Anna, despite her delicate old lady act, was obviously a wily old bird.

‘Yes, of course,’ she answered a touch wryly, and moved to the wardrobe, adding, ‘I’d better start packing.’

* * *

Saffron turned restlessly in the bed, and pushed the light satin cover down to her waist. But she knew it was not the heat keeping her awake—the yacht was fully air-conditioned—nor the low throbbing of its powerful engine as it ploughed through the Aegean Sea in the middle of the night. It was the intervention of the frightening, sinister figure of Alex Statis in her life.

With an efficiency she could only marvel at he had whisked her and Anna away from the cruise ship and, after a brief taxi ride, into a waiting helicopter; by ten o’clock the same evening, to her amazement, the helicopter had landed on a helipad on the top of a luxurious ocean-going yacht, anchored off the Greek mainland.

With a minimum of fuss a very correct steward had shown Saffron to her cabin on the top deck, and what a cabin! A large circular bed in a mahogany-panelled room with a matching en suite, the bathroom and toiletries all sparkling white with brass and mahogany trim. Anna’s quarters were even more luxurious, with a private sitting-room.

Saffron had tried to quiz her boss while unpacking, but for some reason the older woman had not been very forthcoming. However, while Saffron had gently brushed Anna’s hair, before settling her for the night, she’d begun to talk.

‘I guess I was being irresponsible to go off on my own that way—at least, Alex thinks so,’ she murmured softly, almost to herself, and then, looking in the mirror, she fixed Saffron with pleading blue eyes. ‘But you understand, don’t you, dear?’

Saffron didn’t, not one bit; her head was reeling at the events of the evening. Dinner had been an informal buffet, not because of the lateness of the hour—Greeks were used to eating late—but in deference to the fragile health of her charge, she was sure. After the meal Alex had taken one look at his mother and then told Saffron to see the lady to bed. Saffron had been only too happy to comply; for the last few hours she had been all too conscious of Alex’s eyes following her every move, studying her as if she were something the cat had dragged in, and the feeling had been unsettling to say the least.

She smiled at Anna’s reflection in the mirror. ‘Not really,’ she confessed simply.

‘No, I suppose not. It was an old lady’s fantasy to recreate the past. The Pallas Corinthian was the boat I worked on, you see, the one I later found out Nikos, my husband, owned…’

‘You mean you got me to book a cruise on your own shipping line?’ Saffron had wondered, when Anna had asked her to book the cruise, why she had insisted on the one particular ship. Now she knew.

‘Not exactly. Alex is in charge of the business, has been for ages, and he sold the liner to another company years ago. He has no time for sentiment. That’s why I couldn’t tell him what I wanted to do. But I’m glad we had our little holiday, Saffy; seeing Rhodes and the café today was enough, and thank you again, dear, for pan-dering to a sentimental old fool.’

Instinctively Saffron put down the brush and gave Anna a hug. ‘I don’t think you’re an old fool; I think you’re wonderful. And now do you want me to massage your shoulder before bed or not?’

‘No, not tonight. I’m tired enough to go straight to sleep.’ Rising, she touched Saffron’s cheek. ‘You’re a good girl to put up with me, but there is one little thing I would like you to do.’

‘Yes.’ Saffron realised that in the past few weeks she had grown to really care for Anna and, arrogant son apart, she would do anything for her.

‘Please don’t mention to Alex why I wanted a beauty therapist as well as a masseuse. I would hate him to know I can’t even lift my arm high enough to comb my own hair. He is an astute man, and would soon guess there was something more wrong with me than arthritis, and it would only worry him.’

Personally Saffron thought it was about time the globe-trotting swine did worry about his mother, but not by a flicker of an eyelash did she reveal her dislike of the man; instead she promised to say nothing.

Tossing and turning in the luxurious bed, Saffron tried to tell herself that nothing much had changed from this morning. They were still cruising but simply on a private yacht. So why did she have this weird feeling of foreboding? It didn’t make sense. She still had her job, in a week or two she and Anna would return to Anna’s comfortable mews house in the heart of London and Saffron would rarely, if ever, see Alex Statis again. All she had to do was keep her mouth shut and out of his way; that shouldn’t be too hard; she was just the hired help after all…

She closed her eyes and once more tried to sleep, but the vivid image of Alex leaning against the door-frame as she’d walked by him to follow Anna to her cabin seemed to be imprinted on her pupils. Casually elegant, his black hair swept back from his broad forehead, grey wings curling around his ears betraying his thirty-nine years, and a wide, sensual mouth that had hissed cynically as she’d passed him, ‘You can leave now. But I haven’t forgotten I owe you.’ That parting shot lingered threateningly in her mind.

Her eyes flashed open. ‘You can leave now,’ he had said, and something niggled at the back of her brain, a sense of déjà. vu. Had she met him before? No, it wasn’t possible; her mind must be playing tricks, or—perhaps the most likely explanation—she must have seen a photograph of him in his mother’s house. Yes, that was it—of course. And, closing her eyes once more, she finally fell into a troubled sleep where a tall, dark man stalked her dreams…

A knock on the door broke into her restless sleep and, slowly opening her eyes, she yawned widely.

‘Coffee, madam,’ she heard the steward announce, and responded.

‘Come in.’ Hauling herself up into a sitting position, she blinked drowsily, wondering if Anna was awake yet. Then it hit her, the events of the previous evening, and her eyes widened in horror on the approaching man, a gasp of outrage escaping her. ‘You…’

Alex, dressed in a brief white towelling robe belted loosely around his waist, revealing a wide expanse of hair-roughened chest and inordinately long, muscular legs, strolled to the bedside, a tray bearing a coffee-jug and cup on it in his strong hands. ‘Good morning, Saffron.’

‘G-g-get out of my room,’ she stuttered. The man wasn’t conventionally handsome, but he possessed a lethal attraction few women could resist, herself included. His tanned skin, the early morning stubble darkening his jaw gave him the rakish appearance of a swashbuckling pirate.

‘Now is that any way to greet your employer? Especially when he is delivering you sustenance.’

‘You are not my employer,’ she retorted, but his remark had reminded her of her duties. ‘But if you get out of my cabin I can dress and go and see Anna,’ she said, suddenly wide awake, and wary. She had no idea how lovely she looked, her red-gold hair tumbling in disarray around her shoulders, one long strand with a will of its own curving around the fullness of her breast, the skimpy spaghetti-strapped cotton nightie she was wearing barely covering her high, firm breasts.

‘You’re not a morning person…Pity, because you look absolutely delectable.’

How dared he flirt with her? Saffron’s angry eyes flew to his face and she was horrified to realise that his gaze was fixed rather lower on her body. Grabbing the luxurious satin sheet, she pulled it up to her chin. Just in time, as Alex sat down on the side of the bed. He was much too close, the bedroom was much too intimate, and he had no right to be here.

‘Will you get out?’ she cried, her temper rising.

‘Don’t look so terrified. You must have had dozens of men in your bedroom, a girl as beautiful as you.’

She had never had any man in her bedroom, and she was damned sure she wasn’t about to start with this overpoweringly arrogant specimen of the male sex. ‘Out,’ she snapped, indicating the door with her free hand.

‘Don’t flatter yourself, girl,’ Alex drawled cynically, his dark eyes sliding insultingly over her flushed face and rumpled hair. ‘I only want to talk before you see Mama. Why else would I wake you at seven in the morning?’ he asked mockingly.

Saffron could do nothing about the blush that suffused her whole body.

Alex slowly shook his head, one dark brow arching sardonically. ‘What a naughty mind you have, Saffron.’

The man delighted in teasing her, but she had promised to try and get along with him, so, ignoring his comment, she turned to where he had placed the tray on the table beside the bed and filled a cup with coffee. She took her time adding milk, before she dared turn back to face him.

‘Tell me, why Saffron? I always thought it was a spice. Are you spicy?’ he queried, a wicked glint in his dark eyes.

She slanted him a glance from beneath thick lashes then quickly looked down at the cup in her hand and took a long swallow of the hot coffee, before responding curtly, ignoring his innuendo, ‘Saffron is a plant that when dried yields a deep yellow, orangey dye. When I was born my parents took one look at my ginger hair and called me Saffron.’

A large hand reached out and picked up the loose curl that framed her breast. Alex twisted it around his long fingers, his knuckles brushing the tip of her breast. ‘Your hair is not ginger, it is gold, red, blonde, a collection of colours creating a living flame.’

Her breast hardened at the brief touch and embarrassment at her instant reaction brought hot blood to her cheeks. Saffron knew that Alex was aware of her response and suddenly she felt helpless, as if she had lost control of the situation. Yesterday she had been a mature, efficient professional doing her job to the best of her ability. In the past twelve hours her life had quickly become entwined with this sophisticated man and his jet-set lifestyle, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She pulled her head back, freeing her hair from his far too familiar fingers; and quickly lowered her eyes, afraid of the predatory look on Alex’s harsh face.

But the following view was even more disturbing as her gaze dropped to where his robe fell apart, revealing a tanned muscular leg in stark contrast to the white towelling. A startling erotic image flashed through her mind as he moved slightly, his taut thigh pressing against her leg, only the satin sheet preventing their naked flesh touching: Alex, naked and golden brown all over, reaching for her, his deep brown eyes smouldering with passion…

‘Coffee. Good.’

Horrified at her wayward thoughts, Saffron tore her gaze away from his legs and, shocked by her sexy fantasy, kept her head lowered to hide her blushes. She mumbled, ‘Yes,’ then breathed deeply and exhaled slowly. Her reaction to Alex Statis was getting ridiculous. What on earth was happening to her? She prided herself on her self-control but she had an awful premonition that around this man she would have to fight for every ounce.

‘Cabin OK?’ he asked.

He knew very well it was the height of luxury; he was deliberately goading her, but she would not rise to the bait. ‘What do you want, Mr Statis?’ she demanded firmly, pleased at the even tenor of her voice.

‘It is not so much what I want but what you want, Miss Martin.’ All trace of teasing was gone. His eyes, hard and dark as jet, caught hers. ‘My mother is a wealthy woman. I don’t know who persuaded whom to go on a holiday cruise which was totally unnecessary in the circumstances.’

‘I didn’t…’

‘Maybe you’re telling the truth. Mama can be very devious,’ he said drily.

Anna devious! Well, maybe a little, Saffron admitted honestly, but compared to this man Anna was innocence personified, and she listened in mounting anger as Alex continued.

‘I’ve checked with her doctor and apparently it is all above board. My mother likes you, she tells me you are good at your job, and I know to my cost——’ his lips thinned in a tight grimace ‘—you are more than capable of looking after yourself and her. But what worries me is where you learnt such talent, and why you needed to. So take this as a warning if you have any notion of fleecing my mother, or getting involved with any more of her madcap plans; I advise you to forget it—understand?’ He got to his feet, his dark eyes boring down into hers, a threat explicit in the black depths. ‘I will leave you to enjoy your coffee—oh, yes, and welcome aboard.’

Saffron had never been so insulted. The nerve of the man! Madcap plans indeed! And as if she would cheat an old lady. The temper that went with her red hair exploded, and she threw the half-full cup of coffee straight at him. The cup bounced off his chest, spilling coffee all over him.

‘Why, you…’ Two strong hands caught her upper arms and dragged her off the bed and against his hard body. She was suspended in mid-air, her feet dangling inches from the floor, but she did not have time to dwell on her predicament as a dark head swooped, Alex’s mouth capturing hers in a brutal grinding kiss that drove the breath from her body. She tried to struggle and felt herself falling…

CHAPTER TWO

SAFFRON fell back on the bed and felt the full weight of his huge body follow down on top of her; she tried to lift her knee, but Alex wasn’t the sort of man to be caught twice. His naked thigh pushed firmly between her legs, and as she tried to claw at his face his hands caught hers and pinned them either side of her head.

‘You damned hellcat,’ he swore. ‘Yesterday you got lucky. For the first time in twenty-odd years you caught me off guard. But it was also your last, sweetheart. It is time someone taught you a lesson, and I am just the man to do it.’ His deep brown eyes had darkened to black and the flame leaping in their depths sent fear scudding through Saffron’s body.

‘Says who——?’ Her last word was all but swallowed by his mouth once more closing over hers, his tongue gaining entry to the moist interior with devastating results. Suddenly she was conscious of his naked thigh between her legs, her short nightie rucked up somewhere round her waist; his towelling robe had fallen open and their lower bodies were naked flesh on flesh…Her breasts pressed against his muscular chest, hardened with inexplicable need and straining against the fine cotton of her nightgown.

To Saffron’s dismay, heat fierce and totally unexpected flooded through her veins. Her heartbeat accelerated like a rocket, and the kiss she had fought so furiously turned into a passionate seduction of her senses. She was aware of his powerful, virile body through every pore in her skin. His heavy thighs moved restlessly against her slender limbs, and something else…

Well, I certainly did not injure the man yesterday, she thought wildly, just as Alex’s mouth left hers, and she burst into terrified hysterical laughter.

‘What the hell…?’ His dark head reared back and he looked down into her flushed, laughing face. He let go of her abruptly and stood up.

Whether he recognised that it was fear more than humour that had brought on her hysterical reaction Saffron didn’t know; she only knew that, with a savage glance at where she lay tumbled on the bed, he snarled, ‘Cover yourself, woman; I’m not caught that easily,’ and pulled the sheet up over her.

Caught? What did he mean? She gazed up at the dark figure towering over her, and all trace of hysterical humour left her. He was virtually naked; his robe, hanging loosely off his broad shoulders, hid nothing of his magnificent body, or his obvious state of sexual arousal. Her earlier fantasy was fulfilled. His powerful body was tanned all over, except for a pale strip across his lean hips! Mesmerised by the stark beauty of his virile form, she could not look away…

‘Remember, you’ve been warned,’ Alex said coldly as unselfconsciously he folded the robe over his chest and knotted the belt around his waist. ‘Now I suggest you do what you were supposedly hired for and look after Mother.’ And with that he strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Saffron lay where he had left her, completely shellshocked. Nothing in her life so far had prepared her for such a lightning attack on her senses. Her body still pulsed with unfamiliar heat, her breasts felt heavy, the tips aching for she knew not what, and the lingering scent of Alex hovered in the air around her, seducing her even in his absence.

It was incredible—no, impossible, she told herself. She did not like the man, and yet for an instant she had wanted him in a shockingly sexual way. She who could count the men she had kissed on the fingers of one hand!

Slowly, as her breathing reverted to normal, she justified her reaction. It must have been a mental apparition; her response was not real, just a figment of her imagination. She was twenty-five years old and knew herself well enough to realise she was not a sexual person. Two unfortunate events in her teenage years had quickly squashed any real interest in the male sex.

At the age of ten she had lost her parents in a car crash and, left alone in the world, she’d been placed in an orphanage. It was quite nice, the staff friendly, but it could never make up for the loss of her home in Surrey and her parents. She had been thirteen, her body beginning to develop, when one of the older boys had caught her and forced her to the ground, his hands grabbing at her breasts. But Eve, her friend, had stopped him.

Saffron sighed and swung her legs off the bed. A soft film of moisture glazed her eyes as she stood up, remembering the past. Eve, two years older than Saffron, had been her best friend at the orphanage. Even after she’d left, she’d still called back occasionally to see Saffron. Eve’s untimely death not many months ago had affected Saffron deeply; she still wasn’t over it. She brushed the moisture from her eyes and headed for the en suite.

Memories were best left where they belonged—in the past. She stepped out of her nightie and into the shower; turning the tap on full force, she tossed her head back and let the reviving water wash over her.

The sensible thing to do was to pack in her job as soon as the boat docked and return to England. She would miss Anna, but common sense told her that the older woman would have no problem getting someone else to fill her role, and if she stayed she would have a problem with Alex Statis. He was a powerful, dangerous man, and he made no secret of the fact that he thought she was after something from his mother. It would be difficult; she had given up her room in the apartment she had shared with two others, Tom and Vera, and they had been quite happy to see her go as they had decided to marry, and quite naturally preferred to have the place to themselves. She supposed she could stay in a hotel or hostel until she found somewhere else, but it would certainly cut into her business fund, she realised sadly. Then she recalled once more Eve’s last message to her.

You have it all, Saffron—the looks, the character and the expertise to make it on your own. Not like me. I was born a loser. Promise me, Saffron, you won’t let some bastard of a man get at you. Stick to your dream. Start your own business, be your own boss. Do it for me. You show them.

Squaring her shoulders, a new light of determination in her lovely green eyes, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Wrapping a large fluffy towel around her slender body, she walked back into the bedroom. She would not allow Mr Statis to frighten her out of her job. Anna had employed her. Anna was happy with the arrangement, and in any case once they got back to London she would not have to see the man. But her salary for the next few months would be enough to fulfil her dream. Ten minutes later, neatly dressed in navy shorts and a plain white T-shirt, she opened the door of Anna’s suite.

‘Oh, you’re awake!’ Saffron smiled at her employer, sitting propped up in bed, her glance going to the tray beside her. ‘And already at the coffee, I see,’ she chided gently; if Anna had one weakness it was that she drank far too much coffee.

‘Yes, my dear. I received the same service as you, apparently. Alex delivered it.’

Saffron felt the colour rise in her face. Anna certainly had not been attacked by the great brute as she had! Walking to the dressing-table, she busied herself with the case that contained her oils and other supplies. Trying to hide her blush, she said, ‘Would you like me to order breakfast or would you prefer a shower and massage?’

‘The massage, but make it quick. I have been instructed by Alex to meet him on the deck for breakfast at nine-thirty, and I don’t dare argue. I have already wasted three days of his time, he informed me.’

‘Wasted!’ Saffron’s temper rose at the comment. ‘Surely it’s his own fault? We were perfectly all right on the Pallas Corinthian. This was his idea.’ She flung out an arm, gesturing around the luxurious room.

‘Well, not exactly. I have a confession to make.’

Saffron spun round to stare at her charge.

‘You see, dear, we always cruise in June for a week or so. But with Alex being in Australia and not sure when he was coming back I decided I wanted to cruise on my own…well, with you. The poor boy arrived in London last weekend and didn’t know where I was and so he spent three days tracking us down, instead of working. Ordinarily I would have joined the yacht at the weekend along with Alex and the rest of the relatives.’

‘If that’s so, why are we moving now?’ Saffron glanced out of the window at the vast expanse of clear sunlit water. ‘We could have waited in port for the other guests and your son could have stayed at work.’

‘That’s my fault. I insisted we set sail straight away because I was frightened that with a couple of days in port you might change your mind and go back to England. I know what a pain my son can be, and I didn’t want to lose you. This way you can’t get off the boat and I’ve told Alex he has got to make friends with you.’

‘Why, you conniving lady,’ Saffron opined, with a wry shake of her red head.

‘Yes, but you know my secret. In any case no one can do my hair or make-up as well as you. Not even me when I was fit,’ Anna said with blunt honesty.

An hour later Saffron put the finishing touches to Anna’s hair and then followed her along the passageway down the companionway, through the staterooms and through large glass doors to the poop deck where Alex was waiting for them.

It had been dark last night when they had arrived, but Saffron had been awed by the luxury of the cabins, the elegant main lounge and equally stunning dining-room, but the deck was something else again. Under a plain white awning were arranged three plump-cushioned long sofas covered in William Morris shades of blue and green printed cotton satin, a couple of over-stuffed armchairs and one large low table plus a handful of smaller ones discreetly stacked beside one of the potted vine trees that dotted the area. Beyond the seating area, on the open deck, was a circular swimming-pool. Through the sparkling water Saffron saw the outline of dolphins patterned in the tiles; the effect was as if they were swimming in the pool and completely magical. Around the pool was scattered a dozen sun-loungers, and a few more tables with gaily patterned beach umbrellas in the centre.

How the other half live! Saffron thought, bemused. She had realised Anna was wealthy, but it was slowly dawning on her that Alex Statis must be extremely rich. No wonder he was worried about his mother being ripped off by some unscrupulous companion. But it still gave him no right to suspect her, she thought grimly. He didn’t know her, and was never likely to. She was way below his social circle and she knew it.

Subdued, Saffron sat down in one of the armchairs, avoiding looking at where Alex lounged elegantly on a sofa opposite. But to her surprise breakfast was a pleasant meal. The same steward who had shown her to her cabin the previous evening placed a wide variety of cereals, croissants, bread and accompanying confections on the large table, along with jugs of coffee, tea and various fruit juices, before asking if anyone wanted a hot meal.

The conversation was general. Saffron made an occasional comment but after a while she left mother and son to do most of the talking, content to admire her surroundings. It was early June, and the hot morning sun sparkled and danced on the deep blue sea, dazzling on the brilliant white of the boat. Paradise must be a lot like this, Saffron mused as she spread thick honey on a second warm croissant. Heaven help her weight if she kept eating like this…

‘Is that all right with you, Saffron?’

She jumped at the sound of her name, her glance flashing between the other two. She felt that some comment was expected of her, but hadn’t a clue what had been said.

‘Tell her again, Alex,’ Anna said with a grin.

Saffron reluctantly looked across at Alex. He was lounging casually back on the sofa, with his long legs stretched out in front of him. His hard, dangerously masculine body was briefly clad in a sleeveless black T-shirt that moulded his broad, muscular chest in loving detail. A pair of white shorts exposed his long legs, tanned to a golden bronze and rippling with muscles. He was all male, all-powerful, and he made her head spin…

‘We will be arriving in Mykonos in a couple of hours. Mother wanted to see the island again, but she does not feel up to going ashore in the tender.’ He hesitated and Saffron raised her eyes to his questioningly.

‘She suggested I take you.’ His sensuous mouth curved mockingly, his dark eyes raking suggestively over her slender frame. Saffron felt the colour rise in her face at his double entendre, before he added slowly, deliberately, ‘For a few hours.’

The lazy smile, the long body stretched out only feet from her were having a totally alien effect on her. She opened her mouth to say no, but was horrified at the odd constriction in her throat. She swallowed hard.

‘Yes, of course she will,’ Anna answered for her. ‘Mykonos is not to be missed.’

‘I don’t know,’ Saffron heard herself murmur; she knew intuitively that being alone with Alex Statis represented a danger she was not sure she could handle.

‘Of course you will, dear,’ Anna insisted.

Saffron glanced across at Alex; the amusement in his eyes was obvious; he knew she wanted to say no, and was daring her to…‘Yes, that would be lovely,’ she heard herself gush, and missed the flicker of cynicism in Alex’s dark eyes.

‘Good. Well, if you will excuse me, ladies, I have work to do.’ Rising to his feet, Alex smiled gently at his mother. ‘Round one to you, Mama.’

His austere features relaxed in a genuine smile that took years off his age and, though his comment puzzled Saffron for a brief second, she saw the man behind the ruthless mask. She sucked in her breath, her green eyes wide with wonder; he looked almost beautiful. But as he glanced briefly at her the tenderness vanished, to be replaced by a glittering predatory glow that turned his deep brown eyes almost golden.

‘I’m looking forward to showing you Mykonos. I want to see your reaction to the place.’

A frisson of some nameless emotion slid down her spine. Fear! No. Anticipation of a day out, Saffron told herself sternly, nothing more! She refused to acknowledge her inexplicable violent attraction to Alex. ‘I’m sure it will be delightful,’ she offered with a cool smile, but had to turn her head away to stare at the sea. In her mind’s eye the sight of him standing so tall and broad, scantily clad in shorts and shirt, was doing something very peculiar to her breathing.

Saffron stood leaning on the ship’s rail, Anna beside her, as they watched the crew lower the gangway and the boat that in a few minutes would take Alex and herself ashore. The island of Mykonos looked everything Anna had told her as they had lounged around the boat all morning, relaxing and chatting.

The yacht had dropped anchor in the bay of Mykonos Town, and the view was spectacular—sparkling white houses, the blue-topped domes of the small churches the place was famous for dotted among them, along with the impressive row of windmills, six marching in a line along the horizon. Tearing her gaze away from the beauty before her, Saffron tried once more to persuade Anna to accompany them.

‘I’ll help you down into the boat, Anna. You will be all right, I promise. It seems a terrible shame for you to miss going ashore.’

‘Rubbish! I can see all I want from here. Don’t forget, Saffy, I have been here countless times.’

‘Well, if you’re sure.’

‘Positive. I want you and Alex to forget about me and don’t come back until you have seen the sunset from Little Venice.’

Before Saffron could reply Alex was at her side. She glanced up at him and her heart jumped. He had changed from the morning into a pair of navy shorts and a navy and white patterned silk shirt, and he looked devastatingly attractive.

‘Ready, Saffron?’ He drawled her name like a caress, sending tingles down her spine. ‘Got your bathing suit?’ he demanded, his dark eyes gleaming knowingly down into hers. He knew exactly how he affected her and obviously found it amusing.

‘Yes,’ she said frostily, swinging her beach bag, and would have preceded him down the gangway but a hand on her arms stopped her.

‘Gentlemen first in this instance, then if you fall I am in front of you to prevent a hasty descent into the sea,’ he explained, before releasing her arm and stepping on to the ladder.

The small boat reached the shore in minutes. A hire car was waiting for them and moments later they were speeding out of the town and into the countryside.

‘I thought we were going to see the town,’ Saffron prompted, a bit miffed that Alex appeared to have a different idea.

‘We will later; first we will drive around the island, go for a swim maybe. There are some magnificent beaches. One or two nude ones if you prefer.’ He shot her a wicked sidelong glance.

‘No way,’ she snapped back.

‘Why not? It will be nothing we haven’t seen before after this morning.’

A telling tide of red suffused her face as for a second she saw in her mind’s eye Alex as he had been that morning in her room—almost naked.

Alex laughed out loud at her obvious discomfiture. ‘OK, you win; bathing suits it is.’

It was like a day out of time for Saffron. After that one bit of teasing in the car Alex set out to be charming company, and Saffron found her antagonism vanishing in a puff of smoke.

They lunched on succulent fish on a bed of rice and fresh vegetables, at a small cafe alongside an almost deserted beach. Afterwards they lingered over their wine, and eventually strolled along the beach.

She found Alex an informative and amusing conversationalist as he told her something of the island’s history. Apparently not that long ago it had been just another tiny Greek island inhabited by shepherds and fishermen. But the stylised form of building all white with the distinctive blue touches had been seen as so picturesque that a crafty local had decided they should cash in on the tourist trade. Now it was extremely popular with all the cruise liners, but was never overrun, simply because the bigger ships could not dock. The only way ashore was by tender.

By mid-afternoon the sun was much stronger in the sky and Alex suggested that they rest for a while. From the small duffel bag he was carrying he withdrew a towel and spread it on the golden sand, and Saffron followed suit, cautiously laying her own towel a foot away from his.

‘Spoilsport,’ he murmured as casually he slipped out of his clothes and stood before her clad only in tiny black swimming-trunks that left little to the imagination.

Saffron gulped and dragged her gaze away from such a blatant display of sheer masculine perfection. He might be nearly forty, she thought, but not a spare inch of flesh marred his tall, muscular frame; he had the body of a man in his prime, and she was beginning to wonder at the wisdom of being alone with him.

‘Race you to the water,’ Alex challenged, and she had to look up at him.

‘You go—I’ll catch you up.’ She needed a couple of minutes alone to still her erratically beating heart. She watched as with a casual nod he turned and began to run down to where the turquoise water met the silvery sand. He was as enticing from the rear as from the front, his broad tanned back tapering down to gorgeous lean hips and long, muscular legs. God! What was she thinking of? In a rush she slipped off her plain denim skirt and the neat short-sleeved shirt she had worn over her swimsuit.

She glanced down at herself, and wondered if the suit had been such a good idea. She had bought it for the cruise, thinking it was more conservative than a bikini, but now she had grave doubts. In jade-green, it was a simple figure-hugging Lycra suit with high cut-away legs almost to her waist, strapless and slashed straight across her breasts. Suddenly she saw just how provocative it was. How come she had never noticed before? she groaned silently, but it was too late to do anything about it now, and, taking a deep breath, she ran down and into the water. She could see Alex’s head bobbing in the distance; he was a magnificent swimmer, but she had a sneaky suspicion that he was the kind of man who would do everything magnificently.

Saffron did not bother to try and compete; she could swim but was no great shakes, so she stayed near the shallows and floated for a while, enjoying the soothing stroke of the water against her sun-warmed flesh. Occasionally she glanced at Alex, who appeared to be heading determinedly towards an outcrop of rock that to Saffron looked miles away. He swam with a rhythmic determination that she could only marvel at. Slowly, with a sigh—it wasn’t disappointment at Alex ignoring her, she told herself firmly—she made her way back to shore.

Collapsing flat on her back on the towel, allowing the sun to dry her, she closed her eyes. The hustle of the past two days, the food and wine at lunch, and the warmth of the sun all combined to make her fall asleep.

‘Saffron!’ She woke up with a start, for a moment completely disorientated and wondering where she was. Alex was leaning over her, his body damp, drops of water glistening on the dark hair of his chest and taut, flat belly. He frowned down at her. ‘Don’t you know it is the height of stupidity to fall asleep in the sun?’ His hand reached out and with one finger he traced the soft curve of her breasts revealed by the straight bodice of her swimsuit. ‘This flesh is far too fair and tender—you will burn,’ he opined huskily.

‘Alex,’ she murmured dazedly; his touch was doing unreal things to her pulse-rate. She wanted to ask him if he’d enjoyed his marathon swim, but he was quite openly studying the soft swell of her breasts, his finger tugging lightly on the taut fabric, lowering it slightly. She shivered as his finger dipped down almost to the crest of one breast. She knew she should object, but had not the will to stop him, hypnotised by the sensual gleam in his eyes and his throatily voiced comment.

‘So silky and voluptuous. A perfect combination.’

He smelt of sun and sea and sky and a lingering masculine scent that was all his own. He moved, and she felt the length of his leg move over her thigh, entrapping her slender limbs, as his dark head lowered, blocking out the sun.

‘Saffron…’ he rasped. ‘You drive me mad.’ And deep down inside her Saffron felt something spring to life— a matching madness. Perhaps…

She knew she should move, get away, but instead her tongue licked nervously over her suddenly dry lips as she anticipated his kiss. The hot brush of his lips over hers made her gasp; his hand cupped the round fullness of her breast and gently squeezed as his mouth moved more determinedly against hers, his tongue thrusting inside, arousing a response in her that she had never experienced with any man before. She felt his instant reaction, his length hard against her lower body, and he broke the kiss with a groan of frustration.

There was no ‘perhaps’ about it, she thought helplessly as, wide-eyed and trembling, she stared up at him. He looked dark and threatening, his eyes narrowing as they scanned the pale oval of her face.

‘God, Mama has surpassed herself this time!’ he exclaimed almost angrily. ‘How old are you, Saffron— nineteen? Twenty?’ His fingers deftly readjusted the top of her bathing suit, and his leg slid off her body so that he was lying on his side. Propped on one elbow, he stared down at her with an expression of disgust twisting his harsh features. ‘I must be crazy,’ he muttered.

Finally finding her voice, Saffron responded in what she hoped was a steady tone. ‘Flattered though I am, I happen to be twenty-five, almost twenty-six.’ And why he should mention his mother she had no idea…

‘Thank God for that. I don’t seduce young girls.’

‘And you’re not seducing me.’ Saffron sat up abruptly, shoving at Alex’s chest so that he fell on to his back. ‘I think it’s time we left here; I’ve had enough sun for one day,’ she babbled as it sank into her bemused mind just where his question about her age was leading.

A strong hand curved around her shoulder as she tried to stand up. ‘Wait, Saffron. I know we started off on the wrong foot yesterday, though you have to admit that was not solely my fault. But we are two consenting adults; surely we can be sensible about this?’

Saffron turned her head to gaze down at Alex. His deep brown eyes were fixed on her face, the residue of passion still lingering in their depths. ‘Sensible?’ she queried.

‘Yes. I want you, more than I have wanted a woman in years.’ He cast a rueful glance down his long body, and Saffron’s eyes followed his and then quickly looked away. The man had no shame, she thought furiously; he was quite blatantly aroused. ‘It’s been a long time since a woman has got me this way so easily, and I think we should explore the possibilities. I know you want me—you tremble every time I touch you. So how about it?’

It was the very matter-of-fact way in which he stated his case that infuriated Saffron. Springing to her feet, she looked down at where Alex lay. He looked like some basking killer shark, about ready to devour its prey. And she was it…Snatching up her towel, she shook it over his supine form, covering him in sand. ‘In your dreams, buster!’ she scoffed and, grabbing her clothes, she stormed off down the beach, his deep laughter ringing in her ears.

Of course five minutes later she had to walk back, but at least she was fully clothed, she told herself. Just let him try anything else and she would flatten him, she vowed.

‘Perhaps I didn’t put that in quite the most flattering of terms,’ Alex began as he pulled on his shorts and slipped his shirt over his broad shoulders.

‘I am not interested in any of your terms, Mr Statis,’ Saffron responded stonily. ‘Now, can we leave? I did want to see the town of Mykonos—that’s what we came ashore for. Not your sleazy suggestions.’

Alex shot her a quizzical glance. ‘“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” You wanted sex as much as I did, only you’re not prepared to admit it,’ he told her casually as he caught her hand. She tried to pull free, but Alex, with one glance and a dry, ‘Don’t be childish,’ quelled her revolt and side by side they walked back to the car.

Saffron was determined not to speak to him again, and on the drive back she kept a stony silence. Eventually, when they arrived in the town, Alex turned to face her and said quietly, ‘OK, I apologise. Truce, pax, friends…’ and held out his hand. ‘I promise, no more teasing.’

Saffron felt the colour scorch her cheeks. What a fool she had been; twice in one day she had melted in his arms, while to him it had been a huge joke. Calmly she put her hand in his and agreed, and she told herself she was not disappointed. Of course Alex could not seriously want a girl like her. His own mother had told her he had women galore.

Soon the charm of the town, and an apparently reformed friendly Alex, swept the earlier episode on the beach to the back of her mind. No one could fail to be delighted with the tiny streets, and the windmills that even Alex didn’t know the reason for. Finally, as the sun began to sink lower in the sky, he led her to Little Venice. The buildings were right on the edge of the sea and the upper storeys hung out over the water in marvellous timber balconies. They walked up a tiny winding flight of stairs to a delightful bar which Alex insisted was the best on the island, with a perfect view of the sunset and classical music in the background. Sitting by the window at a tiny table for two, Saffron had never experienced anything so romantic.

‘What would you like to drink, Saffron?’ Alex asked quietly; it was as if even the great Alex Statis was affected by the atmosphere.

Saffron turned glowing green eyes on his rugged face. ‘Anything—you choose. This is just perfect.’ She could not contain her delight and, stretching out her hand, she touched his arm fleetingly. ‘Thank you for bringing me here.’

‘The pleasure is all mine.’ Alex smiled back, and for an instant Saffron could only stare; his dark brown eyes gleamed with a rare tender warmth, and the effect on her senses was electric.

The waiter arrived with a whisky and soda for Alex and some fabulous red concoction for Saffron, with an umbrella and a sparkler burning in the glass.

‘Cheers,’ she toasted Alex as she removed the sparkler and took a sip. ‘I said “anything” but I didn’t expect to get a flaming potion.’

They laughed together, and then in unspoken accord turned their attention to the view from the balcony, as the sun turned to brilliant scarlet and slowly sank towards the horizon.

The music changed and Saffron recognised it immediately; the opera was a secret passion of hers. ‘Rossini—my favourite composer!’ she exclaimed. ‘The overture to The Thieving Magpie, I think.’

‘You like his overtures?’ Alex’s dark eyes lingered over her fine features, taking note of the mass of hair that rivalled the sunset in its colour.

‘Yes, I adore them,’ she said, slightly uneasy at his unwavering scrutiny. ‘I have quite a collection.’

‘Yes, I can see why. You’re a romantic and as impetuous, pulsing and sometimes as abandoned as Rossini’s music. It’s all there in your cat’s eyes and your magnificent hair—your passionate nature.’

Saffron was about to deny his reading of her character angrily, then realised that what Alex had said about the music was true. Did her love of Rossini disguise an impulsive passionate nature? The thought worried her… She was here on a Greek island with a man she hardly knew…And, lost in her own thoughts, she barely heard his cynically murmured comment.

‘Let’s hope the title does not accurately reflect you as well.’

She glanced warily across at Alex; his dark eyes caught and held hers. For a long moment the sunset, the surroundings disappeared; they were the only two people in the universe, and something deep and compelling seemed to flow between them.

‘You agree with me,’ Alex husked softly, and she did not think he was talking only about the music. She forced herself to look away and, picking up her glass, drained it, making no response. She couldn’t…she was terrified. After one day with Alex, a few kisses and now a glance and a simple observation on her choice of music, the man had made her recognise her own sexuality in a way she had never considered before. She had always thought of herself as a passionless sort of girl, if not frigid. Sex and romance played no part in her life. With a sense of shock she realised that the be-all and end-all of her life for years had been her burning ambition to succeed on her own. She had no close friends, except perhaps Eve, who was now dead…

She turned and gazed at the sea; the Statis yacht, aptly named Lion Lore, rode at anchor and as she watched the coloured lights from prow to stern flashed on, as the sun sank below the horizon in majestic glory, turning the sea blood-red.

‘You must visit the outdoor opera in Verona; it is an experience not to be missed.’ His hand covered hers on the table. ‘Will you let me take you, Saffron?’ he asked in that throaty, sexy voice of his, his thumb teasingly stroking her palm.

In that second she realised she wanted to say yes! But she knew he was asking for a lot more than an evening at the opera and, snatching her hand from his, she jumped to her feet. ‘It’s time we left. Anna will need me.’

‘She’s not the only one,’ Alex taunted softly as he led her out into the balmy night air. Stopping at the edge of the water, he turned her to face him, linking his hands loosely around her waist.

Saffron tensed. Why did his words sound like a threat, she wondered, when his every look and touch promised her delights she could only guess at, and secretly longed for…?

‘Funny. For a girl with a passion for overtures…’ he bent and brushed the top of her head with the lightest of kisses ‘…you are very slow on picking up on them.’ His dark eyes smiled teasingly down at her.

Saffron grinned, her tension vanishing. ‘God, that was a terrible pun, Alex!’

‘It worked—it made you smile.’ And, holding hands, they made their way back to the yacht.

CHAPTER THREE

DINNER was again an informal affair; Anna had arranged for a hot and cold buffet to be served, unsure at what time Alex and Saffron would return.

Once more in the company of the older woman, Saffron sighed with relief, and the tension of the afternoon and her complete capitulation to Alex’s sexual charm faded to the back of her mind as the three of them partook of a leisurely meal on the rear deck beneath the star-studded canopy of the night sky.

Saffron sipped her wine and cast a speculative glance beneath her thick lashes at Alex. He and his mother were discussing some people they knew and Saffron was quite happy to let the conversation wash over her as she secretly studied him. He wasn’t really handsome—his features were too hard-cut and there was a certain ruthless hauteur about him that said, Watcher beware!—and yet he fascinated her as no other man she had ever met had.

Why was that? Why did she find herself wondering what it would be like to lose her virginity to a potent, sensual man like Alex Statis? Under her dress she felt her breasts go suddenly heavy; she trembled and folded her arms defensively across her chest, sitting straighter in the chair and fighting down the colour rising in her throat.

Why did he affect her so intimately? And, more important, why did she think she knew him? she asked herself for the hundredth time. He was way outside her sphere of experience, and yet there was something…! He was dressed as casually as usual in cream trousers and a blue knit polo shirt, his bare feet slipped into a pair of navy loafers, and yet the feeling of leashed power just below the surface was blatantly apparent. She’d bet he was a dynamic businessman, and she wondered just what kind of business he was in. Anna had told her the cruise line was now only a tiny part of Alex’s business interests. He kept it going in deference to his late father, but he had expanded into a host of other projects.

‘Sorry, ladies, but I have work to do.’ Saffron was jolted back to awareness by the sound of Alex’s voice. Startled, she looked up as he rose to his full height— well over six feet—and for a moment his dark gaze settled on her upturned face.

‘Don’t keep Mama up too late, will you, Saffron? We have guests arriving tomorrow.’

‘Hmmph!’ Anna’s inelegant snort prevented Saffron from answering. ‘It’s time you got yourself a decent wife and presented me with a few grandchildren, instead of fooling around.’

‘I might surprise you and do just that, Mother.’ He held Saffron’s gaze even as he responded to Anna. ‘What do you think, Saffron? Would I make a good husband?’ he asked with mocking amusement.

‘I wouldn’t know; I don’t know you,’ she said coolly and, turning her head, she caught the oddest look on Anna’s face.

‘Then I’ll have to make sure you do,’ Alex murmured, before moving to drop a brief kiss on the top of Anna’s head and adding, ‘You promised to behave yourself, Mama, so make sure you do.’

Saffron’s puzzled glance slid between the two of them. ‘What was that about?’ she asked when Alex had gone. ‘You always behave yourself.’

‘Yes…well…you haven’t seen the guests yet,’ Anna replied with dry irony, and Saffron could get no more out of the woman, though she did try as she saw her safely to bed.

By seven o’clock the following evening Saffron was beginning to see what Anna had meant. The boat had docked earlier in the day at an exclusive marina on the Athenian riviera some half an hour’s drive from the centre of Athens. She hadn’t seen Alex since breakfast that morning, when to her astonishment, on leaving the table, he had kissed his mother as usual and then bestowed a brief kiss on her—Saffron’s—softly parted lips as well, with the muttered comment, ‘As set-ups go, you’re the best yet.’

Blushing fiery red, Saffron had glanced at Anna to see her smiling like a Cheshire cat. ‘What was that about?’ she’d asked suspiciously.

‘Forget it, Saffy; Alex is a law unto himself.’

Forgetting had not been so easy, but they had seen nothing more of him until a couple of hours ago, when three long black limousines had drawn up and he’d appeared with his guests.

‘Give me your arm, dear, and let’s get the greetings over with,’ Anna had commanded as the party had trooped up the gangway.

‘You don’t sound very enthusiastic.’ Saffron cast a worried glance at her employer as she took the older woman’s arm and walked along to the foredeck and main reception area.

‘I’m not,’ Anna whispered in an aside before turning to the woman approaching her with a social smile. The woman was obviously Greek, and about the same age as Anna, but still very attractive.

‘Katherina, how lovely to see you.’ Kisses on both cheeks were exchanged and then Anna turned to a younger woman. ‘And Maria—how nice. And who is your friend—or is it your friend, Alex?’ She eyed her son, who brought up the rear of the group with another, older man.

‘Allow me to introduce Sylvia, who for the past three years has been the very efficient director of our health and leisure chain.’

Saffron’s head jerked round in surprise. So Alex owned a string of health clubs. Now why should that bother her? But it did. There was something niggling at the back of her mind, and if she could just remember… But she did not have the chance as she was swept into a flurry of introductions.

Sylvia, the only English member of the party, was about thirty and stunningly attractive, with black hair, dark eyes, a perfect figure and face, and a smile that would have floored Casanova himself. She dismissed Saffron with a contemptuous glance once she realised she was only a companion. As did Katherina and her daughter Maria. The older man, Spiros, was apparently Katherina’s husband.

Saffron shot a worried glance at Anna, who seemed to have gone very quiet among this crowd of confident relatives, and, edging her way to her side, she asked, ‘Are you all right?’

Alex caught her whispered question and responded for his mother. ‘Of course she is; she is with her family.’ But Saffron wasn’t so sure. And now, Saffron having just finished massaging Anna with a reviving mixture of aromatherapy oils, the pair of them were relaxing for a few minutes over a very English pot of tea, delivered by the steward a few minutes earlier.

‘So what do you think of the family?’ Anna asked with a cynicism that Saffron had never seen in the other woman before. ‘You can be honest; I won’t mind.’

‘Well, I…I don’t really know them; I mean, first impressions can be…’ She was digging herself into a pit, but she was no good at lying. ‘They’re very Greek…’

Thankfully Anna’s light laugh stopped her babbling. ‘Exactly. Do you know, dear, sometimes I even forget my son is half English? He has such a Greek outlook on family. He insists every year that the relatives holiday together, and he has no idea of the agony it is for me.’

‘What’s the matter? Don’t you get on with them?’ Perhaps it was because she was English, but Saffron dismissed that notion immediately. The Greeks were very friendly on the whole, and had a particular liking for the English. No, something else was bothering Anna.

The older lady replaced her teacup on the small table, and dramatically let her head drop back against the soft cushions of the sofa. Then she looked at Saffron, her blue eyes serious.

‘You remember on Rhodes when I showed you the cafe and I said I would tell you my life story one day? Today is the time, I think.’

‘You don’t need to.’ Saffron was worried by the strange quality in Anna’s voice. But, as if she had never heard her, Anna continued.

‘I must; like all Greek tragedies it needs telling. My husband was an honourable man and he married me because I was pregnant. I loved him, and was happy. His elder brother was married to Katherina and lived in New York. My son was twelve years old when they first came back to stay with us. I saw my husband look at Katherina and I knew they were more than friends. At a party held in their honour she told me quite openly that my husband had always loved her, that she married his older brother because he was wealthier at the time, but she could get my husband at the snap of her fingers.’

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