Moon Of Aphrodite. Sara Craven

moment or two, a derisive smile curling his lips, then he moved towards her and she took an instinctive step backwards.

      ‘Relax,’ he advised curtly. ‘I have no intention of raping you, but you seem to need help.’

      ‘I don’t need anything from you,’ Helen choked, still struggling ineffectually with that damned zip.

      ‘You didn’t say that a few hours ago while I was holding your head in the bathroom,’ he said. ‘Besides, I may have damaged the zip when I removed the dress. I was in a hurry and they are fragile things.’

      Helen pressed her hands against burning cheeks. ‘You—it was you? Oh, how could you? How dared you?’

      ‘There was no question of daring,’ he said coolly. ‘I thought English girls gloried in their liberation from outdated conventions. Besides, you were and are perfectly adequately clothed. I daresay you will wear far less when you go swimming on Phoros.’

      ‘Well, at least you won’t be there to see,’ Helen flashed. ‘I doubt whether Mr Korialis will regard your activities in quite the same liberated way.’

      ‘So you intend to make use of your Greek parentage when it suits you. I find that interesting.’ He walked over to her before she could retreat again and spun her round, his hands on her shoulders. Helen felt the recalcitrant zip move upwards, and for one infinitely disturbing minute the brush of his fingers strangely cool on the heated skin of her spine. She tensed involuntarily at his touch, and heard him laugh softly.

      ‘I’m glad I amuse you,’ she said tersely, as she pulled away from him. ‘I think you’ll laugh on the other side of your face when you find yourself out of a job.’

      ‘You intend that your grandfather should dismiss me?’ he enquired lazily.

      ‘How right you are!’ She faced him defiantly, her chin up, eyes sparkling.

      He shrugged. ‘You can always try, Eleni.’

      ‘And please don’t call me that. It—it’s familiar.’

      ‘Which is of course unthinkable,’ he said solemnly. But he was amused, and she knew he was, and it infuriated her.

      ‘How the hell did you get into my room anyway? Surely the staff wouldn’t have allowed …’

      ‘Oh, I can be very persuasive when I want. But in this case I didn’t have to be. When I left after attending to your—needs, I simply took your key with me.’ He touched his jacket pocket. ‘I have it here.’

      She held out her hand. ‘Give it to me, please.’

      ‘Why? You won’t need it again. We are leaving soon. As it is, I have had to telephone your grandfather and tell him we have been delayed.’ He paused. ‘He wasn’t pleased, and it is bad for him to suffer any agitation.’

      ‘And I suppose you made haste to tell him it was all my fault,’ she said with heavy irony.

      ‘I told him merely that you have been tired by your journey from England, and that the heat had affected you. I did not tell him you had been mad enough to try and explore the Acropolis in the full blaze of noon without allowing yourself to become in any way acclimatised. Michael Korialis is not one of those who—to use your English phrase—suffer fools gladly, and I didn’t wish you to make a bad impression immediately.’

      She gave him an outraged look. ‘The implication being that I’ll make one eventually.’

      ‘I think it is inevitable. You are wilful, disobedient, and have a sharp tongue, and none of these are attributes to appeal to a man who adheres to the old ways like your grandfather. You have a lot to learn about Greece and its men, Eleni.’

      ‘I’d prefer to have no more lessons from you,’ she said baldly.

      He smiled. ‘As you plan to have me dismissed as soon as we get to Phoros, there will be little opportunity for such lessons,’ he said smoothly, but his dark eyes held an odd glint, and Helen bit her lip in sudden uncertainty. Perhaps she shouldn’t have clashed with him quite so openly. Her grandfather had obviously given him a great deal of power, and it had gone to his head. But it might have been better to have waited to declare her enmity until they were safely on Phoros. But she’d not been able to help herself. The thought of him looking at her, touching her when she was sick and helpless made her feel ill all over again.

      She should have retaliated after he had kissed her in London, she thought vengefully, as she repacked her small case. She should have hit him or laid his face open with her nails, then he would not have dared take these kind of liberties. And she ignored the small warning voice which suggested that a man like Damon Leandros took what he chose, as he wished, and without counting the cost.

      As she worked, she was aware of him watching her, his dark face enigmatic as she thrust her toilet bag on top of her night things, and threw her hairbrush in after them.

      As she clicked the locks shut, she ignored his outstretched hand.

      ‘Perhaps you would bring the others.’ She nodded towards her other cases, standing under the window.

      ‘I’ll have them brought down, certainly,’ he said evenly, after a pause, and she-suppressed a grin. Beneath his dignity, obviously, to walk behind her carrying two large cases, she thought. Perhaps she had discovered his vulnerable point. He didn’t like to look ridiculous. And that, she thought, with the vaguest germ of an idea forming in her head, could be just too bad for Mr Macho Leandros!

      As she walked along the corridor towards the lift, Helen became aware of two excitedly giggling chambermaids observing her from a linen room. She glanced questioningly at Damon, who smiled faintly.

      ‘They are pleased to see you,’ he said. ‘Your grandfather is a much loved man.’

      She felt as if he was waiting for some special response from her, but she could give none. The prospect of meeting her grandfather was becoming more and more formidable.

      She entered the lift in silence and stood waiting while her companion pressed the ‘down’ button.

      ‘How do we get to Phoros?’ she asked at last, more to break the silence than from any desire for information.

      ‘There is a car waiting to take us to Piraeus. From there we make a journey by sea,’ he said laconically.

      ‘Oh.’ Helen digested this. ‘I suppose there’s a regular ferry service, even though it’s only a small island?’

      ‘It runs three times a day.’

      The faint wish to make him look ridiculous which had been buzzing in her mind now began to take shape.

      It would give her great satisfaction, she thought, to arrive on Phoros alone, having left Damon Leandros ignominiously behind in Athens. She wished she had thought of it earlier while she was still in her room. Perhaps she could have lured him into the bathroom and locked him in somehow, although she had a feeling the only bolt had been on the inside of the door. Well, she would just have to think of something else.

      As they emerged from the lift Helen saw her remaining luggage being carried out to the car ahead of them. If this was a sample of the service provided by all her grandfather’s hotels, then it could hardly be faulted, she thought wryly.

      ‘Don’t we have to—check out or something?’ she asked a little desperately as they moved past the reception desk.

      ‘That’s all been taken care of.’

      ‘But my key,’ she persisted. ‘You’ve still got my key.’

      ‘I left it in the door of your room.’

      Oh, blast! Helen thought savagely. If she could have delayed him at reception even for a moment or two she might have been able to get out to the car and persuade the driver to leave without him.

      She could hardly believe her own fortune when she heard one of the receptionists call after