skin, she had thought longingly of the river, where the rocks formed a safe natural pool. The previous summer she had paddled there on several occasions.
Of course back then the estate had been deserted, for it had still belonged to an old man who’d spent most of his time abroad and who had placed no restrictions on his tenants’ movements. Atreus Dionides, on the other hand, surrounded himself with high-tech security and knew to the letter of the law what rights he had and what rights his tenants had. The estate office had wasted no time in sending out a letter laying out the new ground rules and stressing the new owner’s desire for total seclusion and privacy within his extensive grounds.
But on that hot day six weeks ago Lindy had only intended to cool her bare feet for a few minutes. It was a quiet part of the river, where she had never seen another living soul before and where the trees and shrubs on the banks provided dense cover. Aware that Atreus Dionides usually only used the house at weekends, and that it was midweek, Lindy had succumbed to temptation and impulse and had done something totally out of character. Stripping down to her birthday suit and leaving her clothes in a pile, she had sunk slowly into the pool with a heady sigh of pleasure, revelling in the clean, cold refreshment of the water on her hot damp skin.
‘What are you doing here?’ an authoritative male voice had demanded, only minutes after her immersion, and she’d very nearly jumped out of her skin in fright.
Whirling round wide-eyed, Lindy had focused on the male poised on the bank and hastily dropped lower in the water to conceal her breasts. Sporting a sophisticated urban black business suit, teamed with a white shirt and silk tie, Atreus had looked bizarre against the backdrop of the natural woodland and all the more unreal. She had known who he was immediately as she had seen his photo when the local newspaper had published an excited article about the new owner of the Chantry estate. Even in black and white newsprint he was a very handsome man, if a little cold and grim in his chilly perfection of features. In person, however, Atreus Dionides was a glowing vision of bronzed masculinity and dark Mediterranean good-looks that would have stopped any woman dead in her tracks.
‘This is private property.’
Lindy had crossed her arms in front of her lest the water was not providing sufficient concealment. ‘Er…I’m sorry. It won’t ever happen again. If you go away I’ll get out and get dressed.’
‘I’m not moving anywhere,’ Atreus had delivered loftily. ‘You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.’
‘It’s a hot day. I fancied a swim to cool off,’ she’d explained uneasily, while wondering why on earth he felt the need to ask when the answer should have been obvious.
‘Stripped, ready and waiting for my first appearance?’ the Greek tycoon had retorted with sizzling derision. ‘I don’t go for naked ladies in the woods, or for brief outdoor encounters. You’re wasting your time.’
As it had dawned on Lindy that he actually suspected that she might have whipped off her clothes and got in the water purely in an effort to lure him into some sleazy sexual encounter, she’s been so aghast that she’d simply gaped at him in amazement.
‘Which of my staff told you I was coming out here?’ Atreus Dionides had shot at her.
‘Are you always this paranoid?’ Lindy had questioned in disbelief. ‘Look I’m getting really cold. Move away and I’ll get out and be off your land before you know it.’
It had been immediately evident that her reference to paranoia had gone down like a brick thrown through his front window, since he’d pushed back his big wide shoulders and, his aggressive jawline clenched, fixed his dark-as-treacle eyes on her. ‘Who tipped you off about my presence here today?’
Her very blue eyes had widened. ‘Nobody, I swear. I’m just an ordinary trespasser in the woods—one of your tenants, actually—and I would like to get out of the river and go home now.’
‘You’re a tenant?’ Atreus had queried harshly. ‘So, you’re trespassing in spite of the estate office’s request that you respect my privacy?’
‘I live at The Lodge. If I’d known you were at home I’d never have dared,’ she’d admitted truthfully, trying and failing to suppress a shiver, because she had only been able to bear the cold water while she was free to move around and jump up and down to keep warm. ‘Now, please be a gentleman and return to your…er…walk.’
‘The creed of the gentleman is long dead.’ He’d produced a mobile phone. ‘I’m calling Security to deal with you.’
And that was when Lindy had really lost her head with him. ‘How much of a bastard do you have to be? I’ve said sorry. What more can I do or say? I’m a woman standing naked in freezing water and you’re threatening to muster more men to see me like this?’ she’d shouted at him in horror. ‘I’m very cold, and I want my clothes!’
Hard, dark and unrepentant eyes had rested on her hot, angry face. ’I’m not preventing you from retrieving them.’
And she hadn’t been able to wait any longer. By that stage her feet had been so cold she’d been in pain, and she hadn’t been able to bear to stand there at his mercy any more. Utterly mortified, and inflamed by his intransigence, she’d waded out without looking anywhere near him. He’d not turned his back as any half-decent man would have done either. He’d stayed where he was and he hadn’t apologised. The very fact that no man had ever seen her naked before had made the ordeal that much more painful for her. Unbearably conscious of her bare breasts, and the all too great expanse of the rest of her, almost sick with embarrassment, she’d had to struggle with the difficulty of dragging her jeans and T-shirt over her wet skin. Naturally she hadn’t extended the time of her exposure by trying either to dry herself or put on her bra and knickers first.
She’d run all the way back to The Lodge, where she’d sat shell-shocked and tearful over the indignity of the ordeal he had put her through. Forty-eight hours later Atreus Dionides had sent her a superb bouquet of expensive flowers with a card that had contained an apology and the suggestion that she call him to arrange a dinner date. She had not been able to credit his nerve. His insolent invitation had simply sent her into paroxysms of frustrated rage.
Lindy was, after all, quite friendly with his housekeeper, Phoebe Carstairs, and as such was already reasonably well acquainted with his reputation as a womaniser. Phoebe had yet to see her wealthy employer with the same woman twice. According to Phoebe, Atreus liked dainty blondes in very high heels, and they all fawned over him like groupies and slept with him the first night they arrived. Lindy had read between the lines: Atreus was accustomed to a diet of flattery, awe and easy sex, with women capable of amusing him only for a single weekend.
Lindy was not and never would be that kind of a woman. Furthermore, how dared he even suggest that she would want to lay eyes on him again after the brutal, callous way he had treated her? He had shown the true colours of his character by the river. On the surface he might well be everything the newspaper had suggested—a phenomenally brilliant businessman who had taken a failing family company and transformed it into a contemporary Goliath which dominated the world shipping markets. And he was breathtakingly handsome and extraordinarily rich and privileged. But below that lustrous, classically beautiful surface he was a hatefully cold and unfeeling guy, with no manners and a considerable contempt for women. If Lindy had to wait a lifetime to see Atreus Dionides again it would be too soon.
But in fact she was to see Atreus again much sooner than she expected—and in circumstances that would prevent her from expressing her antipathy in the manner she would have liked.
Her
