a light coral glow to her mouth.
She slipped on a pair of strappy sandals, then stood back to view herself in the mirror.
The evening was warm and still, but she suddenly found herself shivering as if a small chill wind had penetrated the shutters of her room.
And heard a warning voice in her head say quietly, ‘Be careful.’
Oh, for God’s sake, she thought impatiently as she turned towards the door. What can possibly happen in such a public—and eminently high-class—place?
Stavros, she disliked on sight. His coarse good looks might attract Lisa, but held no appeal for her. He looked her up and down smilingly, and she felt as if she’d been touched by a finger dipped in slime.
And Dimitris, with his flashy clothes and abundance of gold jewellery, set her teeth on edge too. As did the way he looked at her, as if he was mentally stripping her.
Oh, well, she thought with a mental shrug. The evening won’t last forever. It will just seem like it.
The club at the Zycos Regina impressed her immediately with its understated elegance, and subdued lighting. The clientele, mostly couples expensively dressed, were seated at tables set round an oval dance floor, and, on a corner dais, a quartet was playing soft dance music interspersed with interesting jazz.
‘It’s not very lively,’ Lisa complained loudly, twisting round in her chair to survey the other patrons. ‘If they’re all so rich, why aren’t they happier?’
Kate, uncomfortably aware of raised eyebrows and disapproving glances from adjoining tables, winced as she took a sip from the lurid cocktail that had been served to them all by an impassive waiter, and thought how much she’d have preferred a glass of wine.
It embarrassed her to see Dimitris flourishing a wallet full of notes, and clearly believing an extravagant tip allowed him to treat the staff like dirt.
It crucified her too to see Stavros stroking Lisa’s exposed skin with a proprietorial hand and leering into her cleavage, then finding Dimitris leaning towards her, murmuring throatily with a suggestive smile, and reaching for her hand.
Deliberately, Kate edged her own chair away, feeling as if she’d woken to find herself in the middle of her worst nightmare.
We don’t belong here she thought, with a sigh, as she began to plan her own strategic withdrawal. And we’d better leave before they ask us to go.
She wasn’t sure of the moment when she knew she was being watched, but she felt the impact of the glance like a hand on her shoulder.
She drank some more of the unpleasant cocktail, then risked a swift look round, wondering resignedly if the management had already been summoned.
It was a corner table, set slightly apart from the others, and occupied by three men.
And the man watching her sat in the middle. In his early thirties, he was clearly younger than the other two, and, equally obviously, he was the one in control.
Even that first lightning assessment told her that he was good-looking, although not classically handsome. The dark face was strong, the lines of nose and jaw arrogantly marked. But more than that he exuded power, a charismatic force that could reach across a crowded room and touch its object like the caress of a hand.
She knew she should look away, but it was already too late. For an electrifying moment their eyes met, and locked, and Kate felt her breathing quicken and her throat tighten in an odd excitement.
But there was no warmth in his gaze. His expression was cool and watchful, his brows drawn together in a slight frown, as if something had displeased him.
And no prizes for guessing what that was, Kate thought, as she turned back to her companions, her face hot with embarrassed colour.
‘Who’s that?’ Lisa had noticed the direction of her gaze, and was staring herself with open interest. ‘Do you know him?’ She giggled. ‘Have you been holding out on me, Katie?’
‘Not in the least,’ Kate said crisply. ‘Nor do I want to know him. I think he feels we’re lowering the tone of the establishment.’
The fact that she thought exactly the same herself seemed paradoxically to increase her resentment.
‘But I know him.’ Stavros leaned forward, eyes gleaming. ‘That is Michalis Theodakis. His father owns the whole Regina chain of hotels, and a great deal more, but the son now runs the company.’
Kate’s brows lifted. ‘Really?’ she asked sceptically. ‘What’s he doing here?’
‘He visits all the hotels,’ Stavros explained. ‘Checking them at random.’
‘So who are the guys with him?’ Lisa questioned.
‘Who knows?’ His minders probably.’ His tone was envious. ‘He is already a multi-millionaire in his own right, but he will be even richer when he gets control of all the Theodakis holdings. If he ever does,’ he added, grinning. ‘They say he and his father have quarrelled and Aristotle Theodakis would do anything to prevent him stepping into his shoes.’
He sent Kate a sly glance. ‘Do you want him, kougla mou? Many women do, and not just for his money. He is quite a stud. You would have to stand in a long line, I think.’
‘Don’t be absurd,’ Kate said coldly, aware that her flush had deepened. ‘And do keep your voice down. I think he’s planning to have us thrown out.’
That icy considering look had thrown her badly. He had seen her companions and judged her accordingly, so naturally she was honour bound to prove to him that his low opinion of her was entirely justified.
Teeth gritted, she reached for her drink, only to find the whole nasty concoction cascading down the front of her dress as her arm was jogged by a passing waiter.
She gasped and jumped up, shaking her skirt. Stavros and Dimitris were on their feet too, shouting angrily and gesticulating at the waiter, who was apologising abjectly and proffering a clean napkin.
‘I’d better go to the powder room,’ Kate interrupted, embarrassed at the attention the accident was attracting.
She turned, and cannoned into a tall figure standing behind her. As his hands grasped her arms to steady her, she realised it was Michael Theodakis.
‘Allow me to make amends for the clumsiness of my staff, thespinis.’ He spoke excellent English, she thought, with just a trace of an accent which, allied to his low-pitched drawl, some women would undoubtedly find sexy. ‘If you will come with me, my housekeeper will attend to your dress.’
‘There’s really no need.’ She freed herself, and took a small step backwards, her face warming. Because, close to, he was formidably attractive—over six feet in height, broad shouldered and lean-hipped. And prudence suggested she should keep her distance.
‘But I think there is.’ Somehow, he had repossessed her hand, and was leading her between the tables towards the exit.
‘Will you let go of me, please?’ Kate tried to tug her fingers from his grasp. ‘I can look after myself.’
‘You
