her mind’s eye she saw the sleek silver BMW glide out of the traffic stream and draw up opposite.
‘So far as I’m aware it’s not a criminal offence,’ he added sarcastically.
Biting her lip, knowing she had to keep her composure, she said levelly, ‘Perhaps you’ll tell me why you went to so much trouble?’
‘For several reasons.’ He slipped a hand into his pocket.
As she gazed at him he reached over and clasped her right wrist, making her jump convulsively. ‘I wanted to return this.’
Looking down at the gold bracelet he’d snapped on like a handcuff, she stammered, ‘Th-thank you. I hadn’t realised I’d lost it.’
‘You didn’t lose it,’ he admitted coolly. ‘I took it from your wrist.’
‘Did you learn how to do that in the back streets of Piraeus?’ The question was out before she could prevent it.
Just for a moment he looked nettled, then the anger was swiftly masked. ‘I did, as a matter of fact. But though I and my brothers and sisters often went barefoot, our parents managed to feed us and keep a roof over our heads without the necessity for stealing.’
Staring at him with eyes that had turned darker and cloudy, she asked, ‘Why did you take my bracelet?’ In spite of all her efforts her voice shook a little. ‘You must have had a reason?’
‘Oh, I had. Depending on the situation, I decided I might need an entrée, some legitimate excuse for knocking at your door.
‘You see, I couldn’t rest until I knew how things stood between you and Leighton. If he’d driven straight off, I would have let things ride until tomorrow, but when he came in with you I began to wonder if I’d been wrong in my assumption that you were no more than friends.
‘Just as I was about to come over and break up whatever was going on, the door opened…’ His voice soft but lethal, Zan added, ‘When I saw him kiss you, I could have cheerfully broken his neck.’
Fear once again stifling her, she jumped up.
With one cat-supple movement he was on his feet and standing over her, his dark face only inches away from her own. ‘I meant what I said, Annis. From now on I intend to be the only man in your life.’
‘If you think after all you’ve…’ Abruptly she halted the rush of bitter words, biting her inner lip until the lesser pain made the larger more bearable.
The past was best left alone. Nothing she, or Zan Power, for that matter, could do or say would alter a thing.
When she had herself under control, she carried on with icy composure, ‘You don’t seem to understand. There’s no way I’d ever get to even like you.’
‘I don’t want you to like me. Liking is such an insipid, bloodless emotion. I want you to want me. To be as crazy for me as I am for you.’
Her heart racing with suffocating speed, she protested, ‘You’re quite mad.’
‘I might be at that,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s such a wonderful, exhilarating madness that I never want it to end.’
His voice roughened by passion, he went on, ‘I can’t wait to have you in my arms, in my bed, in my life…’
Then more quietly, ‘But I won’t try to rush you. I’ll give you time to get used to the idea. All I want at the moment is a promise that from now on you won’t see any other man.’
Meeting him again out of the blue was a strange enough coincidence, but that he should feel so strongly about her was incredible, almost unbelievable.
Yet she had to believe it. By some cruel twist of fate this man who had torn her whole world apart was back in her life and, apparently obsessed by her, intending to stay.
Somehow she had to find a way of getting rid of him now. Tonight. Before this madness had time to grow and flourish.
‘I can’t give you any such promise.’ She tried to speak calmly, decisively. ‘Apart from any other consideration, you were wrong in your assumption that Stephen and I are just friends. We’ve been lovers for some time now.’
Zan’s olive-skinned face seemed to pale, the skin tightening over the strong bone-structure, as though her declaration was a knife she’d stabbed him with.
With a short, sharp sigh he echoed her earlier thought. ‘Well, I can’t alter what’s happened in the past… But from now on you’re mine. Don’t ever forget that, Annis.’
Running his fingers into her silken hair, he took her face between his palms, and bent his dark head. His lips were firm and sure on her mouth, light, yet completely possessive.
She was still standing rooted to the spot when the latch clicked behind him.
Faintly she heard a door slam, an engine start, and his car draw away. But it was a long time before, moving like some zombie, she went to lock up and reset the safety-chain.
That fleeting kiss had shocked her to the core. Rocked her world. Nothing would ever be quite the same again.
Totally exhausted, she crept straight off to bed and fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow. But, though she slept, it was a shallow, restless sleep, haunted by a darkly arrogant face that both repelled and attracted her.
She awoke heavy-eyed and unrefreshed, that same face still effortlessly dominating her mind. Making all her hatred and anger surface. Bringing all the previous night’s fear flooding back in a tide.
But she must try to keep a sense of proportion, she reminded herself sharply. Zan Power couldn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to do.
And perhaps he was already having second thoughts? After flaring up, his sudden passion might have flickered out, like a fire lit in the wrong place.
The best thing, maybe the only thing she could do was carry on as if nothing untoward had occurred, as if he hadn’t turned her whole world upside down yet again, and see what happened.
Dressed in a smart charcoal suit and crisp white blouse, lightly made-up, her hair in its usual smooth chignon, she was almost ready to leave for work when the doorbell chimed.
Expecting the postman, she went to answer.
A young sandy-haired man wearing a green coat with ‘Jay’s, Florist’ embroidered in red on the lapel said a cheerful, ‘Good morning,’ and, handing her a huge bouquet, went off whistling, despite the cold, grey day.
The long-stemmed, dark red roses, scented and velvety, were exquisite. Hot-house blooms like those must have cost a king’s ransom, Annis thought dazedly. Stephen, bless him, had got carried away.
Nestling among the glossy leaves was a small envelope. Opening it, she took out the slip of pasteboard. Written in a strong black scrawl on the gilt-edged card was one word. Zan.
Shock held her rigid for a moment, then, tearing the card in two, she dropped the pieces in the waste-paper basket as if they were stinging nettles.
