Part 8 (1/2)

It was heaven and it was h.e.l.l-and it was wrong. No matter how tempting it would be to abandon his own scru ples, as she had apparently abandoned hers, he told himself he couldn't do it.

He had been crazy to let things get this far and he had to stop it now. With a groan of anguish, he brought his hands to her shoulders to push her away.

But his own needs betrayed him. When he touched the tight-fitting tee s.h.i.+rt, and realised that it was all that was between him and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, good sense slid away. His fingers slipped down her arms to grip the soft curve of her midriff. With his thumbs stroking the undersides of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, it took very little effort to move higher and palm the swollen peaks.

Khristo! He dragged his mouth away from hers to look at what he was doing, his breath constricting in his throat. She was so responsive, her heart palpitating wildly beneath his hands. Her chest rose and fell with the urgency of her arousal, and her scent, warm and seductive, rose to his nos trils. What was more, he thought he could happily drown in the wanton languor of her eyes.

But the look in her eyes was changing. As he watched, almost drugged by his own emotions, a look of horror re turned to her face. Perhaps if he'd still been kissing her, perhaps if he'd still been plundering her mouth with the hunger he hadn't been able to deny, she wouldn't have had the chance to come to her senses. As it was, her hands at his nape became claws that tore him away from her, her flailing legs nearly unmanning him as she fought to scram ble to her feet.

Before he could beat her to it, her angry tongue lashed out at him. 'How-how dare you?' she cried. 'How could you?

You're-you're despicable!'

'And you are...?' suggested Demetri, in a dangerously bland tone. He got to his feet with a contrived lack of haste and regarded her with an amazingly calm look of enquiry. 'What are you, Joanna? Apart from my father's-' He broke off, knowing full well that she would finish the sentence for him. 'I would like to hear your interpretation of what just happened.'

Joanna swayed. She was obviously distressed, and he de- spised himself for suddenly feeling sorry for her. She had had no shame so why should he?

'Go-go to h.e.l.l!' she said at last, somehow summoning the strength to answer him, and, after bending to rescue her hat, she stuffed it into her haversack, and strode unsteadily away towards the car.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Demetri left for Athens early the next morning.

Constantine gave her the news when she joined him in his suite before breakfast, and Joanna realised that Demetri must have been on board the helicopter she'd heard circling the island as she was getting dressed. She felt a s.h.i.+ver of relief at the knowledge that she wasn't going to have to confront him again that day, and wondered if his trip had been arranged for the same purpose.

But, no. Demetri was unlikely to let anything she did influence his actions, and Constantine's explanation-that he was going to bring his sister and her fiance back to the island-was a bleak confirmation. He was completely with out honour or conscience, and she despised herself for being a party to his betrayal of his father.

The journey back to the villa the day before had been fraught with tension. They hadn't spoken to one another after what had happened at the temple and Joanna had made a concerted effort not to look at Demetri either. She couldn't have borne to see the smug expression she'd been sure he'd be wearing, and she'd been overwhelmingly relieved when the stone gateposts that guarded the entrance to the villa had loomed ahead of them. She'd leapt out of the vehicle as soon as Demetri had applied the brakes, offering him only a m.u.f.fled 'Thanks' before hurrying inside.

Thanks! That had hardly been warranted, she'd chided herself later, when a maid had come to ask if she would be joining the family for lunch. Her excuse for refusing-that she had a headache and was going to rest for a while-had been just as mendacious, and she'd guessed that Demetri would see it for what it was. But she hadn't cared. She honestly didn't know how she was going to face him again, and she'd spent half the night wondering if she should tell Constantine that she couldn't continue with this charade.

But what excuse could she give? She couldn't tell Constantine what had happened, not without destroying the faith he had in his only son. Besides, the truth was her behaviour had only reinforced Demetri's opinion of her. He thought she was only using his father for her own purposes and he believed he'd proved it. But, like her, he couldn't use the argument. Not without implicating himself.

Still, Constantine did look considerably better this morn ing, which was a blessing. He wasn't dressed yet; when she'd joined him in his apartments he'd been resting in his chair beside his bed, wearing only his dressing gown, flick ing through some of the letters and reports that Demetri had handled in his absence. Now they were sitting out on his balcony, enjoying fresh fruit and coffee and warmly scented rolls in the open air. He was still not dressed, but Joanna wasn't worried. It was so good to see him up and about again.

b.u.t.tering a roll, Joanna realised it was the first food she'd been able to face since the previous morning. The night before she'd only picked at the mousakas Constantine had insisted on ordering for her, and, although he had com plained, she'd noticed his appet.i.te had been sadly lacking too. Now, though, he seemed to be enjoying the peach she had peeled for him, laughing a little ruefully as the juice from the fruit insisted on dribbling down his chin.

'Um-when will-Demetri be back?' she asked at last, finis.h.i.+ng the roll and reaching for her coffee. She had to know.

She had to prepare herself for their eventual con frontation, whenever that would be.

'Ah...' Constantine wiped his mouth with his napkin and set it aside. 'Probably tomorrow,' he replied thoughtfully. 'The wedding is in less than a week, as you know. Alex will want to spend some time in her own home before Costas spirits her away to Penang.'

Joanna took a breath, trying not to think about how short- lived her respite was going to be. 'Penang?' she said, as if she'd never heard of it before, 'Is that where they're going for their honeymoon?'

'Indeed.' Constantine smiled. 'You have never been to Malaysia, Joanna?'

'No.' In fact, she had been hardly anywhere. Except Sardinia, she reminded herself bitterly. She would never for get Sardinia, 'Is it nice?'

Constantine covered her hand with his. 'It is beautiful,' he told her gently. 'Very beautiful.' He paused. 'Like you, agapi mou.' He paused again, and then said perceptively, 'What is wrong?'

'Wrong?' Joanna hoped he would attribute the slight tremor she could detect in her voice to astonishment. 'What could be wrong, Constantine? I am here, in one of the most perfect places in the world, with probably the kindest man I could ever hope to meet. What could I possibly find wrong with that?'

'Veveus.' Indeed. But Constantine was still regarding her with concerned eyes. 'So, tell me more about your outing with Demetri. Last evening you seemed a little tired, and I did not press it. Oh, you said you had enjoyed the visit to the Temple of Athena, but you said little about Demetri himself. Was he polite to you? Did he conduct himself in a way I would have approved of?'

If the situation hadn't been so serious Joanna thought she might have laughed out loud. But it would have been a hysterical laugh, and at herself, not at his words. Dear G.o.d, how was she supposed to answer him? What was that ex pression about being economical with the truth?

'Demetri isn't entirely happy with-with our relation s.h.i.+p,' she said carefully. 'But you know that.'

Constantine's mouth tightened. 'You are saying he was rude to you?'

Rude? Once again the urge to laugh was almost irre sistible, but she fought it back. 'Um-not rude, no,' she managed weakly.

Then, hoping to change the subject, 'He- he's very knowledgeable about the island, isn't he? I was especially interested in the stories about Athena and what she is supposed to have done-'

'Arketa! Enough! With an abrupt cutting gesture of his hand Constantine silenced her, his lined face dark with an ger. 'I am not interested in what my son had to say about our myths and legends, Joanna. I want to know what he had to say about me-about us.'

Joanna's lips parted in alarm. In her haste to rea.s.sure him she had obviously said the wrong thing, and somehow she had to convince him that nothing untoward had happened.

'He-didn't say anything about-about you, Constantine,' she protested urgently. 'I-I just get the feel ing he doesn't like me.

He thinks I'm a gold-digger. That's all I meant.'

'In other words, Demetri does not consider his father is still capable of attracting a beautiful woman,' retorted Con stantine shortly, 'In his eyes I am just a pathetic old man, trying to boost his ego in the company of a trophy mistress!'

'No...' Joanna realised she had only worsened the situ ation, and she wished she had had more warning of what was to come.

But then, she hadn't taken Constantine's in securities into consideration, 'It's me he despises, not you.'

'Those were his words, were they?'

'No.' Joanna was floundering now. 'That's not what I meant.'

'What did you mean, Joanna?' Constantine looked weary now. ' Then pirazi, so long as he does not suspect the truth I suppose that is all that matters, ne?'

'Yes.' Joanna breathed a little more freely. 'And I can a.s.sure you, he believes every word you say.'

'Good.'

Joanna hesitated. 'You're not upset, are you, Constantine?'

'Upset?' His hand fell away to his lap, and to her relief a rueful smile touched his lips, 'I suppose my ego has suffered a blow,' he admitted drily. 'But, no, I am not upset with you, my dear. I am just sorry that you had to bear the brunt of my son's displeasure. Demetri's tongue can be very-wounding. I know.'

Joanna looked down at her coffee. She didn't want to think about Demetri's tongue at that moment. Didn't want to remember what he had done with that tongue, or how warm and hungry it had felt in her mouth. He'd used his tongue to captivate her, to give her an indication of how easy it would have been for him to seduce her. And she'd let him. She'd actually encouraged him.

And, whether his lovemaking had been hot and spontaneous or cold and cal culating, she'd surrendered any right to judge him.