Moon Of Aphrodite. Sara Craven

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СКАЧАТЬ about his employer’s long-lost granddaughter, she thought.

      One thing was certain: Michael Korialis must rely on him highly to entrust him with such an errand. She found herself wondering exactly in what capacity he worked for her grandfather, how old he was, even if he was married, then checked herself hurriedly. This kind of speculation was totally valueless.

      Hugo and Damon Leandros were sitting talking while the stereo unit in the corner murmured Brahms in the background when she returned with the coffee. She set down the tray on the table, wondering if anyone would believe her if she pleaded a headache and went to her room. Then Damon Leandros bent forward to pick up his cup, and she caught the derisive smile twisting his lips as he looked at her, and she knew that he was just waiting for her to make some such excuse, and angry colour rose in her cheeks. She took her own cup and retired with it stonily to the far corner of the room, on the pretext that she wished to listen more closely to the music. But her seclusion was shortlived.

      It was Hugo who rose with the excuse. He had run out of the small cigars he smoked, and would have to go to the nearby off-licence to buy some more, he explained. He wouldn’t be long, he added, with a deprecatory look at his daughter.

      When the door had closed behind him, she sat rigidly in her chair, staring unseeingly ahead of her, feeling the tension build up in the room. There was not a word or a movement from her companion, yet she was convinced her father had simply invented the tale of needing more cigars in order to leave them alone together.

      At last she stole a glance at him under her lashes, and was disconcerted to see that he was leaning back in his chair, watching her, very much at his ease.

      ‘Relax, Miss Brandon,’ he said drily. ‘You look as if you would splinter into a thousand pieces at the slightest touch.’ He saw her swallow and smiled rather grimly. ‘Don’t be alarmed, I do not propose to test the truth of my observations.’

      ‘I should hope not.’ Helen found her voice. ‘I wouldn’t think Mr Korialis would be too pleased to know that one of his henchmen had been—mauling a member of his family.’

      His face was sardonic. ‘But as you do not propose to accompany me to Greece, there would be little chance of your grandfather ever finding out. Perhaps I should make love to you, if it means you will contact him, even if it is only to protest at my behaviour.’

      He got up from the chesterfield and walked towards her. Helen felt herself shrinking back against the cushions.

      She said huskily, ‘Don’t you dare to touch me. Don’t you come near me!’

      He halted about a foot from her chair. Staring up at him dazedly, she thought that he seemed to tower over her.

      He said softly, ‘You’re a stubborn little fool, Eleni. What am I asking for, after all? A few weeks of your life, no more. A few weeks to give some happiness to a sick old man, holding on to his life in the hope of seeing you.’

      ‘A sick autocrat,’ she said bitterly, ‘who has never had his slightest wish disregarded before. That was clear from the tone of his letter.’

      ‘If it were so,’ he said, ‘then you would never have been born. As for the letter, it is true that Michaelis finds it difficult to ask. Is there no pity for him—no warmth under that English ice?’

      ‘You have absolutely no right to talk to me like that.’ She wished desperately that he would move away. ‘And my name is Helen, not Eleni.’

      ‘To your grandfather, you have always been Eleni,’ he said quite gently, and to her horror she felt sudden tears pricking at the back of her eyelids.

      ‘Damn you!’ she whispered, then his dark face blurred, and she buried her face in her hands. When she had regained sufficient control over herself to become aware of her surroundings again, she found that he had moved away to the fireplace and was standing with one arm resting on the mantelshelf, staring down at the floor. An immaculate linen handkerchief was lying on the arm of her chair, and after a brief hesitation she used it with a muffled word of thanks.

      He said, ‘I won’t wait for your father’s return.’ He reached into an inside pocket and produced a small leather-covered notebook and a gold pencil and wrote something, before tearing off the page and putting it on the mantelpiece. ‘My hotel and room number, Eleni,’ he said. ‘I shall be returning to Greece at the end of the week. If you wish to come with me, you have only to contact me.’ He paused. ‘Or leave a message, if you would prefer.’

      ‘I would prefer,’ she said tightly. ‘Very much I’d prefer it.’

      He gave her an unsmiling look. ‘I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.’

      ‘I’m sorry we had to meet at all,’ she said wearily. ‘But I suppose my grandfather will be grateful to you. How will you describe your victory to him, I wonder? As a knock-out in the first round? Perhaps he’ll give you a bonus.’

      He looked faintly amused. ‘I would hardly describe this as a victory, more in the nature of a preliminary skirmish,’ he said coolly. ‘As for my bonus—–’ he smiled—‘I think I’ll collect that now.’

      Two long strides brought him back to her, his hand reaching down to close like a vice on her wrist, jerking her upwards. Taken off her guard, she found herself on her feet somehow, overbalancing against him, and for the second time she experienced the strength of his arms as they held her, drawing her closer still.

      She protested on a little gasp, ‘No!’ and then his mouth closed on hers with merciless thoroughness.

      When it was over, she stood staring at him, her eyes enormous in her tear-stained face, one hand pressed convulsively against the bruised softness of her lips, too shocked to utter a word of protest.

      Damon Leandros gave her a last cool look and turned to go, and as he reached the door, Helen found her voice at last.

      ‘You swine!’ She was trembling violently. ‘I’ll make you sorry you did that!’

      He turned and looked back at her. ‘You are too late, Eleni. I am already sorry,’ he said, and went out.

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