far from ingenuous, so don’t try playing the part for me,” Nikos returned hardily. “Dion may see no further than your face and body, but I’m not so easily blinded. You have a purpose in giving way to him the way you just did-a purpose in being here with him at all, in fact.”
Her heart jerked, then steadied again. There was nothing to suggest that he’d guessed the truth. If she read him correctly, his suspicions lay in quite another direction.
“If you think I’m after joining the family, you can forget it,” she said bluntly, abandoning discretion for the moment. “Dion won the race on his own merits. Please don’t try spoiling it for him by suggesting anything other.”
The strongly carved features took on a disquieting expression. “The only suggestion I might-”
He broke off as his cousin hauled himself out of the water at Chelsea’s back, obviously not prepared to continue the discussion-if it could rightly be called thatin front of the younger man.
“We didn’t expect you until later,” said Dion, sounding somewhat less than welcoming to Chelsea’s ears.
“I have matters to discuss with your mother,” Nikos answered, adding with a certain irony, “If a reason is needed.”
His glance came back to Chelsea for a fleeting moment, the message clear to her if to no one else: he hadn’t finished with her yet. Then he was moving away, shoulders powerful beneath the brown silk, back tapering down to waist and hip. A hard man in every sensecertainly not one to be trifled with. Chelsea found herself beginning to regret ever having begun this quest.
Hardly a gainful attitude for an ambitious journalist, she rallied. The harder the battle, the more worthwhile the victory. If it all came to nothing in the end, at least she could console herself with the thought that she hadn’t given up at the first hurdle. It was up to her to rid Nikos of this notion that she had designs on his cousin for starters.
“What was he saying to you?” asked Dion, jerking her out of her introspection.
“Nothing much,” she returned lightly. “I think I’ll go and finish unpacking rather than get back in again. I’d like to wash my hair, if there’s time.”
“We eat at nine,” he said. “That gives you almost two hours still.”
“Time to spare then.”
Sitting alone again, Florina watched her coming with baleful expression. Chelsea gave her a smile in passing, wondering if she was to shoulder the blame for Nikos’s disappearance. If he’d wanted to return to the other’s side, he would surely have done it.
She saw no sign of him as she made her way to her room, although there were plenty of doors he could be behind. With her own door safely closed, she stood for a moment viewing her image in the long dressing mirror across the room, trying to see herself the way Nikos obviously saw her—coming to the conclusion that he had met so many predatory women in his time he probably took it for granted that they were all at the same game.
One thing he could rely on, she had no designs in that direction where he was concerned. She’d as soon stick her head in a tiger’s maw!
Showered, hair washed and dried, she fingered through her travelling wardrobe. Consisting, apart from shorts and swimwear, of two crease-proof shift dresses, three skirts, one silky trouser suit and various tops, the choice was limited. In the end she settled on one of the shifts, in a blue almost the same colour as her eyes, contenting herself with a dab of pale pink lipstick and the merest touch of brown mascara. Her only jewellery was a simple gold chain and matching bracelet, which was all she had brought with her.
Weather permitting, meals were always served outside during the warmer months, Dion had already advised. It was still only eight-twenty when she left the room, and apart from a couple of servants no one else was yet in evidence. Emerging once more onto the terrace, she found a table already set out, with aromatic candles lit to deter any flying livestock. The sun was a great golden orb, touching the mainland mountain ridge.
Standing at the stone balustrade, breathing in the evening-scented air and admiring the view, Chelsea felt at peace with the world. The hustle and bustle of life in the city seemed a million miles away. So far she wasn’t missing it at all.
The sense of being watched came over her suddenly, lifting the hair at her nape and sending a tingle down her spine. It was no great surprise to turn her head and find Nikos seated on another section of the terrace off to the side of the villa.
“I didn’t see you there!” she exclaimed with false brightness.
“Obviously not,” he returned drily. He got to his feet, lithe and powerful as any of the big cats in his movements, causing her heart to beat faster and louder as he came towards her. “You would like a drink?”
Chelsea shook her head, feeling stimulated enough at the moment without alcohol. “Not right now, thanks.”
“Then perhaps a walk before we eat?”
She looked at him uncertainly, unable to fathom the change in attitude since their last meeting. The dark eyes were impenetrable.
“Why the sudden friendliness?” she asked, deciding to take the bull by the horns, so to speak. “Only a couple of hours ago you were convinced I had designs on your cousin.”
“I was perhaps a little hasty in that assessment,” came the unfazed reply. “We’ll begin again?”
Beware of Greeks bearing gifts, an inner voice urged-except that a change of opinion hardly came under that heading. It took a big man to admit that he might be wrong. If Nikos could bring himself to make the gesture, then she could surely meet him halfway.
“That would be…nice,” she said, disgusted by her failure to come up with something a little more inspired. Words were supposed to be her stock-in-trade, for heaven’s sake!
“Would it not?” Nikos agreed. “Shall we take the walk I proposed? The gardens are very beautiful at this time of the year. A suitable setting,” he tagged on smoothly, “for a beautiful woman. I can find no fault with Dion’s taste.”
Coming from any other man, Chelsea would have found the compliment too flowery by half, but she couldn’t deny the buzz it gave her to hear it from him. Careful, she warned herself. Falling for the man was strictly off-limits—stir parts of her that others had never reached though he undoubtedly did.
“You’re too kind,” she murmured, and saw a smile touch the firm lips.
“Kindness isn’t a quality I’m often accorded.”
Chelsea could imagine. Ruthlessness, yes; it was there in every line of those granite features. She had already had a taste of that side of his personality, and was likely to experience it again if she let on what she was really here for too soon.
Just as likely later too, came the thought, pushed to the back of her mind where it could do the least harm.
“I don’t suppose it’s a quality you can often afford,” she said. “Too many people ready to take advantage.”
His gaze narrowed a little. “Which people?”
“In business.” Chelsea hadn’t meant to get this far this fast,
