that she had learnt exactly what pleased him in bed. Did that make her a whore?
Feeling claustrophobic in her dim corner and too tormented by her own fears to stay still, Hope wandered off into the next room. Only then did she appreciate that her eyes were awash with tears. Ashamed of her lack of self-control, she hurried on in her exploration of the big, crowded house, afraid that if she lingered anywhere someone would notice that her emotions had got on top of her. A sob was clogging up her throat. She wished she had never come to the party. She felt duly punished for daring to crave what she had naively believed would be an important stepping stone in her relationship with Andreas. Finding herself alone in a quiet branch corridor, she paused, listened outside a solid panelled door and, reassured by the silence within, pressed down the handle.
The door creaked wide on a low-lit room and a startling spectacle. Andreas’s sister, Elyssa, was passionately kissing a dark-haired man, who bore no resemblance whatsoever to her husband, Finlay Southwick.
Consternation momentarily froze Hope on the threshold. Shocked eyes veiling, she pulled the door closed again in a nerveless harried movement and sucked in air to steady herself. But before she could even breathe out again and move on, the door flew open again to reveal Elyssa.
‘Don’t you dare tell Andreas!’ the young Greek woman hissed in a tempestuous mix of revealing fear and fury. ‘If this gets back to my brother, I’ll know who to blame and I’ll destroy you!’
Barely able to credit the extent of the other woman’s aggression, Hope murmured tightly, ‘There’s no need to threaten me—’
‘There’s every need,’ Elyssa condemned furiously. ‘What were you doing snooping? Did you follow me in here?’
‘Of course I didn’t!’ Hope protested in disbelief. ‘I wasn’t snooping either. I was just looking for somewhere quiet where I could sit down. I thought the room was empty—’
‘Did you really?’ Elyssa sneered.
‘Yes, I did. Look, I have no intention of telling anybody anything. I always mind my own business—’
‘Just you see that you do, you fat cow!’ the enraged brunette spat at her spitefully.
Reeling from that second attack, Hope walked away with a rigid back. Tears were blinding her: it was a nightmare party with the hostess from hell. She cannoned into someone and looked up with a stifled apology to focus on Ben Campbell.
‘What’s up?’ Ben asked, his voice a trifle slurred.
‘Nothing!’ Brushing past him, Hope took refuge in the cloakroom. Secure then from prying ears and eyes, she punched out Vanessa’s number on her mobile phone and said wretchedly, ‘Everything’s going horribly wrong. Elyssa hated me on sight!’
‘Good. Andreas must be even keener than I suspected,’ her friend responded with disconcerting good cheer.
‘How do you make that out?’ Hope swallowed back another sob and decided that she did indeed look very large in the black dress. All that dark unbroken colour was less than flattering. In fact her reflection seemed to fill the whole dainty mirror above the vanity unit.
‘Elyssa’s a spoilt little brat of an heiress and she’s possessive of her big brother. She must have some idea how long you’ve been with him and I bet she’s worried that he’s serious. Did she say anything nasty? Anything you could make decent mileage out of?’
Hope frowned, for where Andreas’s sister was concerned she felt honour-bound to preserve a discreet silence. ‘Why?’
‘Because you could use it as ammunition and confide tearfully in Andreas. Only a week ago, I would have said that that was a major no-no, but with impressively little effort you miraculously persuaded Andreas to take you to the party of the year,’ the redhead mused thoughtfully. ‘I’m now convinced that you have more influence over Andreas Nicolaidis than either he or you appreciate.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Hope encouraged, desperate to have her spirits raised even with what she deemed to be a false hope. ‘But I wouldn’t dream of saying anything that would cause trouble between Andreas and his sister. That would be dreadfully mean of me and certain to fail—’
‘If Elyssa is planning to be your enemy, you may not have much choice,’ Vanessa warned.
‘Don’t be so pessimistic.’ Hope sighed. ‘She may well think that I’m not good enough for her brother—’
‘Oh, please, don’t start making excuses for her!’ Vanessa groaned in despair.
Finishing the call, Hope returned the phone to her bag. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell her best friend that she had been called a whore. She was too afraid that Vanessa might secretly think that Elyssa had had some justification for voicing that cruelly humiliating opinion. Emerging from the cloakroom, she saw that Ben was now lounging up against the wall a few feet away.
‘Let’s talk…’ he urged, holding out a languid and rather wavering hand, which made her suspect that he was drunk. ‘Who stole your big happy smile? I want you to tell me what’s wrong. Van would kill me for walking by on the other side.’
Cheeks hot with self-consciousness as envious female eyes locked to her, Hope hurried over. ‘Shush…there’s nothing wrong…please keep your voice down—’
Ben locked both arms round her as much to keep himself upright, she suspected, as to prevent her walking away. ‘Would you like me to take you home?’
‘Thank you but no—’
‘I got droves of women,’ Ben confided lazily, bloodshot green eyes mocking her as she blushed and attempted to tug free of his hold. ‘Do you think I could seduce you away from your Greek billionaire?’
‘No chance. Nothing and nobody could,’ Hope swore with fervour.
‘Never say never…it’s like challenging fate.’ Scanning her pale, troubled expression, Ben sighed and dropped an almost paternal kiss down on top of her head. ‘You’re way too sweet and straight for Nicolaidis.’
Andreas was the restive centre of a crowd. He was bored: even at a distance she could tell. His stunning dark golden eyes picked her out when she was still moving towards him. Lean, extravagantly handsome face intent, he abandoned his audience without hesitation and strode forward to intercept her. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he demanded.
‘When the dialogue turns to gold prices and pork bellies, I feel a bit surplus to requirements.’
‘Let’s go, pedhi mou.’ Closing a determined hand over hers, Andreas trailed her in the direction of the hall and remained wonderfully impervious to every fawning attempt to slow down his progress. ‘We should never have got out of bed…’
As he hurried her down the steps into the cool night air the shameless sexual sizzle in his skimming appraisal made her tummy clench and her mouth run dry. Suddenly everything that had upset her seemed utterly unimportant. She loved him to death. What else mattered? In a spontaneous movement, she stretched up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to a bronzed cheekbone and she breathed in the heady male scent of his skin with the delight of an addict.
‘Andreas? Please wait,’ a soft voice interposed from behind them in Greek. ‘I need to speak to
