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 that.’
If his grandfather heard the bitterness in his grandson’s voice, he ignored it. He had done what he had had to do. The woman had been a danger to his family. As this one now was.
‘Yes,’ he agreed, relaxing back in his chair. ‘Money’s a good method.’
Theo nodded.
‘I’ll take care of it. She’ll be out of his bed in a week!’
Leandra frowned in concentration. ‘Can you just give me my cue again please, Demos?’
‘Of course.’
He smiled obligingly, but Leandra could see that his eyes were troubled. The morning’s interview with his grandfather had been painful, she knew. She felt so sorry for him. In the weeks she’d spent at his apartment she’d grown to like this young man who came from such a totally different world. Their only link was Chris. Why did his family keep trying to arrange his life for him? It was bad enough his grandfather pressurising him to marry—now even his cousin was joining in!
His cousin was totally unlike Demos, she mused. With Demos she felt safe and comfortable. With Theo Atrides she’d never feel safe or comfortable. She gave an inward shiver.
Then, resolutely, she turned back to the page. Demos was kindness itself in agreeing to help her learn this fiendishly difficult part. It would bring neither fame nor fortune, but it was a privilege to have been chosen for it. The Marchester Festival, highly specialised though it was, had an excellent reputation. Besides, the effort of learning it helped to take her mind off Theo Atrides.
And she needed all the help she could get. He was haunting her. She couldn’t get him out of her mind. His hooded eyes were vivid in her brain, looking her over—setting her body on fire…
He intruded everywhere, even in her dreams. Which was ridiculous—she would never see him again. He’d go back to Athens with his grandfather, admit defeat over Demos, and that would be that.
He would admit defeat, wouldn’t he? After all, in the end there was nothing either Theo or his grandfather could do to force Demos to marry Sofia Allessandros. All Demos had to do was stand firm.
Would Sofia mind being rejected by the man she was expecting to marry? No one seemed too concerned about her wishes in all of this!
‘Demos,’ she heard herself asking, ‘are you sure Sofia won’t be upset that you won’t marry her? It sounds like she’s spent her whole life assuming you will.’
He looked away uncomfortably. ‘I can’t help it, Leandra. You know I can’t marry her. For me to do so would be to wrong her grievously.’
She bit her lip. Carefully, she said, ‘Can’t you tell her why? And your family?’
Demos’s face shuttered. ‘Do not ask that of me,’ he answered. There was anguish in his voice, and guilt—Leandra could not press him. He had burdens of his own to carry. One day he would be able to set them down, but not now, she knew. He was not ready.
Instead, she asked another question.
‘Demos, when is your grandfather likely to go back to Athens?’
The shadowed look in his eyes intensified.
‘I am not sure,’ he admitted. ‘Theo wants him to see a Harley Street specialist while he is in London.’
‘Oh. Then what would you like me to do? What would be best?’
‘If you would be kind enough to stay here I would be most grateful, Leandra.’ There was entreaty in Demos’s voice.
She smiled reassuringly. ‘Of course, if that is what you want. I can hardly complain about the standard of my accommodation! I’m in the lap of luxury here! And I’m happy to help out if there’s anything I can do. There’s a saying in English—in for a penny, in for a pound!’ She tapped at the page of her script with a grin. ‘But I’ll drive a hard bargain, my young Greek millionaire! Back to work!’
He pored over the words with her, heads together. Suddenly she gave a laugh. Her amber eyes gleamed wickedly.
‘Oh, if your cousin could see us now! He’d never believe it! Never!’
Remembering the look of unveiled contempt in Theo Atrides’s eyes as he looked her over like a piece of sex-trash, she felt a sharp sense of satisfaction.
It was a beautiful day, even for central London. The mild, sunny autumn weather was still holding. Leandra swung down the Edgware Road, her body pleasantly tired and stretched from her dance class in Paddington. Acting was hard work. London heaved with struggling actresses, and competition for parts was fierce. Still, acting was what she had always wanted to do, and her very staid parents had been happy enough for her to work it out of her system—as they’d been sure she would within a few years.
Her eyes shadowed, grief showing in them briefly. Their death in a coach crash on holiday had been so sudden, so brutal. Even now, nearly two years later, the memory was like a knife in her breast.
Chris had been so kind to her, proving a true friend, taking her under his wing and looking after her while she was raw with grief and shock. No wonder she hadn’t hesitated when he had asked her for a favour for Demos.
The blare of a car horn made her jump. The Edgware Road was clogged with traffic, and she was still quite some way from Demos’s Mayfair apartment. She made an inward grimace. She would miss that fabulous apartment all right! Going back to her tiny studio flat on a noisy road south of the Thames—all she could afford at London property prices, even with the legacy from her parents—was not something she was looking forward to. For the first time she could understand why women would agree to exchange their self-respect for such a luxurious lifestyle.
Her amber eyes darkened. That was exactly the kind of woman Theo Atrides thought her—that much was obvious. The kind who latched on to men just because they were rich! Not for the first time she felt a stab of anger at him. Oh, she would love to see him eat his words! ‘Delicious morsel of female flesh’ indeed!
She should not have recalled them to mind. For with them came an image of the man saying them—tall, powerful, those dark, heavy-lidded eyes making her stomach flip over slowly, oh, so slowly as her legs turned to jelly…
Someone brushed past her on the crowded pavement. Automatically she moved to one side, and then, just at the same time, someone brushed her from that side as well. She glanced either way, frowning suddenly.
