know what to feel either. His emotions seemed to be running on a loop of anger, through concern, exasperation, and an irrational, overwhelming desire to grab her, haul her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Kissing seemed to be the only function of that soft, sexy mouth that was simple, uncom-plicated—and totally understandable.
Oh, who was he trying to kid? Kissing her might start out as the most straightforward thing in this whole tangle of knots that simply being with Skye tied him up in, but it would very rapidly turn into the most complex and problematical situation before he had time to breathe. He couldn’t kiss Skye while she was with his father; and, for her own personal, private reasons, she seemed determined to try to hold fast to this appalling engagement.
‘I can’t believe you’re asking me that question.’
‘I could pretend—’
‘Oh, hell, yes, you could!’
Theo couldn’t hold back the cynical laughter that escaped him at the thought.
‘You could pretend, all right—but if you wanted to be convincing you’d have to turn in a performance that’s a damn sight better than the one you’re giving me!’
He’d actually silenced her. For the first time since he’d come into the room and found her sitting on the chair with her head in her hands, she was finally stunned into silence, staring up at him, her face frozen in shock.
‘There’s something else, isn’t there? Something you’re not telling me. Damnation, Skye, just what is going on here?’
Her eyes flinched away from his, dropping down to stare at the carpet with an impossibly fierce concentration.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Don’t give me that!’
Dropping to one knee in front of her, he caught her chin in his hand, pushing it up so that she was forced to meet his gaze. When she tried to pull away he simply clamped his fingers more tightly around her jaw and drew her back inexorably to face him.
‘Tell me!’ he commanded. ‘I want to know just why you are so determined to marry my father.’
CHAPTER NINE
HOW could she ever answer that? Skye asked herself. She was trapped, no matter which way she turned. Tied by so many different promises to so many people, and knowing she had no way out. There was the promise she had made to her father—others to Cyril…
But the one promise that truly mattered to her was the one that she had made in her heart to her mother. Claire Marston knew nothing of the real reasons why her daughter was suddenly going to marry a much older Greek millionaire; she would have been horrified if she did. But in her heart Skye had promised that she would do anything—everything—she could to ensure that her mother had the health and strength to enjoy as much of life as she could. And if that meant giving up some of her own life, her own happiness, in return, then she believed it was worth it.
So now she had only one choice open to her, one path she could possibly follow.
And she took it.
‘Why?’ she echoed with what she hoped was a deceptively lightweight and flippant air. She had started on this coldly casual act to protect herself; she couldn’t afford to let it slip now. ‘Isn’t it obvious? Because he asked me.’
Once again, Theo’s response surprised her. She had expected anger. She had expected contempt. She had expected that he would simply toss her aside—mentally at least—and just walk out. So she was stunned when he shook his head in total rejection of what she was saying.
‘Not good enough,’ he stated with a cold finality.
His absolute calmness was somehow more disturbing than if he had lost his temper and shouted at her. A sudden, scary feeling that she was fighting for her life pushed her towards an even more outrageous declaration.
‘You don’t think that’s good enough? Why ever not?’
Her pause was supposed to give him time to respond, but he didn’t take it. Instead, he seemed to be waiting for her to speak again.
But what could she say? If he only knew it, she had spoken the exact truth when she had given him her answer. Cyril had offered marriage as a way out of the appalling problems that beset her family, and, in despair, with no way to turn, she had accepted him.
‘What’s so difficult to believe about it?’ she demanded, the anguish in her heart putting a sharpness on her tongue that she couldn’t have managed if she’d planned it. ‘Who in their right mind would want to turn down this?’ She waved a hand in an all-encompassing gesture that took in the whole room, the patio out beyond the doors, and the blue water of the swimming pool beyond that. ‘I certainly wasn’t going to.’
It was only when his face changed, his expression hardening, eyes turning to black flint, that she realised how a moment before he had had an entirely different look. She had been near to some sympathy, some understanding from him, and now he had backed away again. Physically as well as mentally.
He had moved back from her; his grip on her jaw loosening. The barriers were up between them once more and it hurt so badly that she had to blink back tears.
But it was better this way.
Safer.
The implications of that word, ‘safer’, were ones she flinched away from admitting to herself. They gave her an idea, though. If she tried to defend herself from Theo’s questions, then she very rapidly found herself with her back against the wall. It was time to stand up for herself—go on the attack instead.
Wrenching her chin free from his loosened grasp, she tried to push Theo aside, get to her feet. But the barrier of his big body offered far more resistance than she had ever imagined. Her push had no effect whatsoever on him, but it made her fingers curl in shock at the sensations that fizzed up her nerves as they encountered the heat and hardness of his powerful chest.
Giving up the attempt to make him move, she scrambled inelegantly off the chair over its arm, turning hastily to confront him while she had the advantage of height because he still knelt on the floor.
‘Why does it matter so much to you what happens between me and your father? I understood that you and he weren’t exactly close.’
She’d got under his guard with that one. She saw it register in the depths of his eyes and knew a shiver of apprehension as his jaw tightened and a muscle in his cheek tugged sharply.
‘Who told you that?’
‘Your father, of course.’
Her throat dried as Theo uncoiled his long body and slowly stood up. Perhaps it was the fact that she had no shoes on and in bare feet was inches smaller, but Skye felt that never before had he seemed so tall, so imposing, so big as when he towered over her now. Her toes curled on the polished wooden floor as she fought against the craven impulse to turn and run.
‘And what did he tell you about it?’
‘That—that you had a disagreement.’
‘Which is something
