cousin.’
For a second something showed in Demos’s eyes.
‘And suppose I’m not either?’ he said.
There was something in Demos’s voice that stayed his cousin. Theo looked at him narrowly.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he asked slowly.
For a long moment Demos just looked across at him, as if he was going to say something. Then, with a fling of his hand, he shook Theo off his shoulder.
‘It means I’m having too much fun to want to settle down! I’m not ready to marry anyone, let alone Sofia Allessandros!’ An urgent note entered his voice. ‘Make Milo see that, Theo. Make him!’
Anger lashed through Theo. Anger at both of them—Milo for wanting to arrange other people’s lives because he was taking leave of his own, and Demos for insisting on living his own life when he had responsibilities to meet!
And most of all anger, irrational but powerful, against the girl plastered against Demos—the cause of all this trouble.
He wanted out of this! He hadn’t wanted to come here, and now he was here he wanted to wash his hands of the whole business. He wanted to get away—away from the endless demands of family, of business—go some place where all he had to do was gaze out over the blue Aegean, hear the cicadas calling, inhale the heady scent of the maquis, feel the zephyred wind from the south on his body.
With a soft, compliant woman in his arms…
Like the one at Demos’s side…
He gave a rasp in his throat, banishing the dangerously enticing vision.
‘Enough!’ His hand slashed the air with a short, brusque slash. ‘I’ll expect you tomorrow, Demos. Milo wants to see you at nine. We’re in the penthouse suite here. Be on time.’ He eyed his cousin darkly, his harsh gaze sweeping out to Leandra. ‘And get some sleep tonight!’ he finished, reverting to English.
His eyes flickered briefly over her face. The expression in them made her want to hit him. His thoughts were naked. With a woman like her at his side what man would want to sleep?
He, for one, could think of a thousand better things to do with her—
He snapped his mind away again. The woman was an irrelevance.
Soon her brief intrusion into his family affairs would be over—permanently.
Demos Atrides opened the door to his apartment and ushered Leandra inside. Immediately she was tightly enveloped in a bear hug.
‘Well,’ demanded the extremely handsome blond embracing her with long familiarity. ‘How did it go? Did he show?’
Leandra extricated herself, tossing her evening bag on the silk-covered sofa, and kicked off one of her high heels. Her feet were killing her. She said nothing. She didn’t think she could for the moment.
‘Oh, yes, he showed all right,’ said Demos behind her. His voice was tight.
‘And?’ demanded the other young man. ‘Did he fall for it?’
Demos gave a short laugh, displaying the tension he was still under.
‘Hook, line and sinker—isn’t that what you say?’
The blond laughed, showing an expanse of gleaming white teeth in a brilliant smile that lit his handsome face. Leandra laughed too, but hers was short, with an edge to it.
‘With the emphasis on hook—as in hooker,’ she said bitingly. ‘God, Chris.’ She kicked off her other shoe and flexed her aching ankles. ‘Thanks to that dress you poured me into, Theo Atrides looked at me like I was some kind of tart!’
A shiver went through her at the memory of the way Demos’s cousin had looked her over—and more than looked…
But Chris was not dismayed. ‘That’s brilliant, Lea—just what we wanted! He’s got to think Demos is totally captivated by his sexy little mistress! Speaking of sexy—’ he caught her shoulders ‘—you, darling, look absolutely edible! Yum, yum!’
Leandra was in no mood for his foolery. Reaction and revulsion were setting in with a vengeance.
‘Leave off, Chris!’ she said, pushing his hands off her shoulders and heading towards the bathroom. ‘I need to get out of this ridiculous costume!’
The evening had been far more of an ordeal than she had thought it would be—thanks to that wretched dress and Theo Atrides! She stepped out of the shower and towelled herself vigorously. It had seemed so easy, as well as a good deed, to pretend to be Demos’s mistress. All she’d had to do was move into the spare bedroom in Demos’s luxury apartment and spend the last three weeks appearing to be living with him—until his family finally got the message that he wasn’t coming home to marry Sofia Allessandros.
Leandra stared at her reflection as she combed out the knots in her wet hair, her face set. Had tonight’s performance been sufficiently convincing? Would the Atrideses finally leave him in peace now?
She hoped so—with a shudder she knew she couldn’t face another encounter with Theo Atrides. Her nerves couldn’t stand it.
A sudden shaft of depression hit her. Theo Atrides was the most incredibly attractive male she’d ever laid eyes on, and he’d seen her as nothing more than a sexy, trashy tart.
But what if he hadn’t?
Her comb paused and her imagination took flight. She saw herself, gowned in black still, but soft velvet, long, sweeping the ground, its modest décolletage set with a single white rose, her hair caught in a low, elegant chignon at the nape of her neck, her make-up subtle, her perfume elusive…
If Theo Atrides had seen her looking like that then perhaps those heavy-lidded eyes would have gazed at her quite differently, mused Leandra dreamily. Sensually, yes, but without that offensive glint of contempt he hadn’t bothered to hide. His eyes would have shown nothing but the desire of man for woman. As old as time. An eternal hunger yearning to be sated.
She sighed, beguiled by her own impossible vision. Then, abruptly, she sobered. Struggling actresses, whatever they wore, were not his fare. And even if they were, she added crushingly, it wouldn’t do you any good! Even filmstar Madeleine Fareham with her precious Oscar hadn’t gone the distance! The papers were full of her marrying her latest costar on the rebound from Theo Atrides!
Decisively, Leandra tugged the last of the knots from her newly washed hair as if she were tugging something out of her that had just taken root—a weed that looked like an orchid but was really nothing more than poison ivy.
Back in the lounge, Chris and Demos were drinking coffee. Leandra, swathed in a towelling robe, poured herself a cup and collapsed next to Chris. He put his arm around her shoulder.
‘Better now?’ he asked sympathetically.
She nodded. ‘Yes. Sorry—but, honestly, the way you dressed me up—I just felt so exposed! And Demos’s cousin looked at me like I was some kind of total floozie! It was horrible! Still…’ she took a deep breath ‘…it’s
