mortification filled her. She could tell herself all she liked that it had been hateful to be treated like that, but she knew she was a liar.
Theo Atrides had had an effect on her that she had never encountered in her life before. It had overwhelmed her, blasted her out of the sky like a fireball…
She’d been helpless, totally helpless. If he’d wanted, he could have taken her hand and led her away from Demos—led her away to a private room and folded her against his body, lowered that hard, mobile mouth to hers and done anything he wanted to her…anything at all…
She stared down into her coffee, appalled by this shaming realisation.
A shudder went through her as she fought to throw his image, his memory, out of her mind.
‘Lea—are you all right?’
She jerked her head up. ‘I’m fine—fine. Just tired, that’s all.’
Chris was looking at her closely.
‘Did the bastard get to you, Lea?’ he asked quietly. At his side Demos stiffened at this cavalier description of the cousin he had always looked up to, but he said nothing.
Leandra bit her lip. She could deny the way she’d reacted to Theo Atrides, but it wouldn’t fool either of them for long. She might as well admit it now.
‘Yes,’ she acknowledged. ‘But it doesn’t matter—all that matters is that he leaves Demos alone now.’
She made her voice bright and cheerful and decided she had to just pull herself together. It didn’t matter a jot that she had all but melted over Theo Atrides. It didn’t matter that he was the most devastating male she had ever seen. It didn’t even matter that he thought her nothing but a wind-up sex toy.
She would never set eyes on him again.
Theo Atrides had come and gone in her life. He wouldn’t be back.
CHAPTER TWO
THEO stared moodily out over Hyde Park from the penthouse suite where he and his grandfather were staying. The trees had turned autumnal already; summer was over.
His mood was grim. Demos had just left, and the exchange with Milo had not been pleasant. When his grandfather had finished lecturing him on duty, responsibility, family and Sofia Allessandros waiting in Athens for him to deign to turn up, Demos had stubbornly repeated what he’d said to Theo the night before. He wasn’t ready to get married. That was all. He was enjoying his bachelor life.
Then he’d walked out.
Theo turned back towards Milo.
‘You are so sure of this marriage?’ he heard himself ask.
Milo flashed him a dark look from eyes which, though wrinkled, were still keen and sharp.
‘Demos needs a good marriage. Sofia Allessandros is just the girl for him.’
Theo paused. ‘I know,’ he said carefully, ‘that you are in a hurry. But can’t you give him more time? It’s his life, Milo.’
The dark, shrewd eyes stared at him.
‘I’m worried about him,’ he said. ‘I want to see him safe with Sofia Allessandros.’
There seemed to be meaning in his words. Theo frowned.
‘This woman of his? A pillow-friend, nothing more. He won’t marry her, if that’s what’s worrying you!’
The dark eyes snapped and Milo’s mouth thinned.
‘Young men are foolish!’ He fixed Theo with a piercing, uncomfortable look. ‘You would have made such a foolish marriage…’
The accusation hung in the air. For a moment Theo stilled. Then, with a deliberate shrug of his powerful shoulders, he said, ‘Well, you and my father soon sorted that out, didn’t you? And that other “minor complication” it involved!’
The accusation had been returned, and Milo felt it. His eyes snapped again. ‘Don’t take that tone! We did what was necessary. A woman like that—you should be grateful!’
Theo stilled again. ‘Grateful.’ The word fell heavily from his lips.
A harsh, impatient rasp sounded in the old man’s throat.
‘Money showed her true colours! It always does with women of her stamp!’
He shifted restlessly in the chair he was sitting in. Pain flickered briefly in his face. Theo saw it. Pity filled him. The past was gone—his grandfather and his father had done what they had thought best, by their lights. And they had been right, he knew. Money did show true colours. And he was grateful, just as Milo said he should be. Grateful to have had his illusions shattered.
Illusions were always dangerous. In business, and in bed.
Theo had no illusions any more. Never again. He knew what he wanted from women now. It was simple, pleasurable—and painless. As for taking a wife—no. No matter how much Milo pressurised him to continue the family name, he knew he would never trust a woman with his happiness again.
‘Sofia will make Demos a good wife. You know that.’
Milo’s voice brought him back to the problem in hand.
Yes, Sofia Allessandros would make Demos a good wife. She had been groomed from childhood to be the perfect wife for a rich man. And, like every well brought up Greek girl, she was as untouched as the morning dew.
Theo’s brow darkened briefly. The image of Demos’s lovely young pillow-friend slid into his mind, lush and enticing. Tempting men from their duties, their responsibilities—their families.
As if reading his thoughts, Milo spoke again.
‘Demos won’t look twice at Sofia while he’s got a mistress to warm his bed.’
The grim look returned to Theo’s face. Leandra’s lush body swayed in his vision.
‘That one would warm any man’s bed!’
His grandfather’s eyes narrowed. ‘Yours, Theo?’
Theo gave a rasp of denial. But Milo hadn’t built a business empire from scratch without being able to read men’s thoughts. He gave a sudden rough laugh.
‘Well, that would be one way of removing the obstacle!’
Theo’s mouth set in a thin line.
‘I was thinking of something a little more basic.’
His grandfather gave that rough laugh again. In his time, Milo Atrides had kept mistresses by the score.
‘Nothing is more basic than sex,’ he said bluntly.
‘Except money,’ corrected his grandson. He looked straight at Milo. ‘That method never fails. You, of all people, should know
