The Millionaire's Virgin. Anne Mather

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if she was being entirely wise in accepting the position. It was useless telling herself that Nikolas couldn’t possibly have known she’d change her mind. That the instructions he’d left had been a logical attempt to cover all eventualities. But the fact was, Nikolas was an arrogant devil, and had it not been for Sophie’s problems she’d have done almost anything rather than accept his help.

      Still, she consoled herself, it was only for the summer, and a lot of things could change in three months. Aunt Ingrid had been horrified when she’d explained what they were planning to do. As far as she was concerned, Paige was jeopardising her own future for the sake of a girl who had no appreciation of the fact. And, because the Petronides name meant nothing more to her than the logo on the side of an oil tanker, she’d considered Paige’s decision reckless in the extreme.

      Which hadn’t improved her relationship with Sophie one iota. The younger girl continued to assert that despite the presence of the heroin in her drawer she’d never actually touched hard drugs, but Paige had known she couldn’t trust her not to use them in the future. She’d been horrified to learn that Sophie’s introduction to marijuana wasn’t a recent thing either. According to her, it had been in common use at her boarding-school, but if she’d thought that might reassure her sister she couldn’t have been more wrong. Paige had been appalled, and more convinced than ever that she was doing the right thing by getting Sophie out of London.

      She scanned the street again for the mini-cab that had promised to pick them up twenty minutes ago. She hoped it came soon. In spite of everything, she didn’t want to admit that she was getting cold feet.

      ‘Come on, come on,’ she muttered impatiently, and Sophie, who had been viewing her sister’s agitation with a certain amount of satisfaction, now sat up. Pushing back the crinkled shoulder-length perm that was several shades lighter than Paige’s toffee-streaked blonde hair, she looked more optimistic than she’d done since Paige had first told her that she was going to accept the job in Greece.

      ‘Does this mean we’re going to miss the plane?’ she asked smugly, and Paige knew exactly how her aunt must have felt when she’d confronted Sophie’s insolent stare.

      ‘No,’ she retorted at once, although she wasn’t absolutely sure what she’d do if they did miss the flight. After all, it was the holiday season. Flights were booked well in advance. ‘We’ll just take a later plane,’ she added shortly, ‘so you might as well resign yourself to the fact that we’re going to Skiapolis.’

      ‘Skiapolis!’ Sophie spoke disparagingly. ‘It wouldn’t be so bad if it was Athens, or Rhodes, even. Somewhere I’d heard of. But Skiapolis! I don’t know how you can even justify what you’re doing to me. If Daddy was alive, he’d—’

      She broke off, and Paige seized her chance. ‘Yes?’ she prompted. ‘If Daddy was alive—what? What would he do? Do you think he’d be proud to learn that his younger daughter was a—a junkie?’

      Sophie sniffed. ‘I’m not a junkie.’

      ‘So you say.’ Paige was scornful now. ‘And what about what you did to Aunt Ingrid? Daddy was very fond of Aunt Ingrid. Do you think he’d applaud you for beating her up?’

      ‘I didn’t beat her up.’ Sophie was indignant. ‘She slapped me first.’

      ‘There are other ways of beating up old people than by hitting them,’ retorted Paige without hesitation. ‘What if she’d had a seizure? How would you have felt then?’

      Sophie’s shoulders hunched. ‘She’d been nosing about in my things. She had no right to do that.’

      ‘And you had no right to sneak out of school before your last period,’ Paige reminded her sharply. ‘If you’d had nothing to hide, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.’

      ‘I wish we weren’t.’

      ‘I dare say you do. But we are, and that’s all there is to it.’ Paige heard the unmistakable sound of a car in the cul-de-sac outside and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Here’s the taxi. Grab your things. We’re leaving.’

      Sophie flounced off the bed. ‘I’ll never forgive you for this, Paige. Never! Forcing me to go and live on some grotty old Greek island with some grotty old business acquaintance of Daddy’s. I’m going to be bored out of my mind.’

      ‘Better bored than stoned,’ replied Paige tersely, wishing she felt more positive. And at least Sophie knew nothing about Nikolas, other than the story she’d invented about how she’d got the job. In fact, she’d left Sophie with the impression that if she hadn’t gone crying to Martin about their problems Paige might never have been offered the position at all.

      It was late afternoon when they arrived in Athens and the heat was palpable. Even Sophie breathed a little sigh of wonder as they walked down the steps off the plane. With the sun striking on the airport buildings, reflecting back off the glass, and heat rising up from the tarmac, the unaccustomed brilliance was dazzling. For a few minutes, even Sophie forgot her complaints as they walked the short distance to the arrivals hall.

      The formalities were soon dealt with. The Greek officials were not immune to the attractions of two young women travelling alone, and in a very short time their luggage was stowed in the boot of an ancient cab, and they were on their way to Piraeus. The ferry was due to depart at seven o’clock that evening, and Paige was hoping they might have time to grab a bite to eat before they boarded the ship. She had no idea what facilities might be provided on the vessel. Her own trips to Greece with her father had never entailed travelling between the mainland and the many islands that dotted the area. Of course, they had visited Skiapolis—but that had been as guests aboard Nikolas’s yacht. This was an entirely different situation, and she had no illusions about the position she now occupied in his life.

      Piraeus was the largest and busiest port in Greece. Ferries ran from its harbour to most of the larger islands in the Greek archipelago, some of the bigger ones looking as luxurious as cruise ships.

      Paige doubted that the ferry to Skiapolis would fall into that category. Her memory was that it had been one of the smaller islands in the group. Nikolas owned most, if not all, of the island, and he hadn’t wanted to encourage tourists, at least in those days. A small ferry had brought mail and essential supplies, she remembered, but she doubted it possessed tourist accommodation. She was grateful the trip wasn’t a long one. They might have been obliged to sleep on deck.

      The instructions they’d been given obliged them to collect their tickets from an agent at the Plateia Karaiskaki, and after the car had dropped them off they carried their bags across the busy concourse. Sophie was briefly stunned by the heat and the smells and the alien language, but although she exclaimed at the brilliance of the sea she was beginning to find the late afternoon sun more of a burden than a blessing. She grumbled every time someone jostled her, or the strap of her rucksack dug into her shoulder.

      They eventually found the office they were looking for. Paige went to see about their tickets and was given the number of the quay where the ferry was supposed to leave from. But she was also informed that a seven o’clock departure schedule meant very little. If the ferry was late arriving at the port, they could be looking at nine o’clock or later.

      Sophie understood little of the conversation Paige was having with the agent. The office was hot and stuffy, and she was quite happy to spend her time guarding their luggage beside the open door. And exchanging provocative glances with a curly-headed youth in jeans and trainers, whose brown, sun-bronzed arms were seen to advantage in his sleeveless T-shirt.

      Their

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