The Greek Tycoon's Bride. Helen Brooks

voice, and then she smiled coolly, her voice polite and unconcerned as she said, ‘Not at all, Andreas, it’s perfectly all right. And I’m a widow actually,’ she threw in for good measure.

      The grey eyes widened for a split second and again she knew she had surprised him. ‘I’m sorry.’

      Sophy was aware of Michael fidgeting at the side of them and knew her nephew was longing to ride in the car, and so she kept the explanation brief, merely shrugging as she said, ‘My husband died three years ago and time helps.’ She hoped, she did so hope he wasn’t as crass as one or two of their friends had been with their sympathetic remarks after Theodore’s death along the lines of, ‘Such bad luck, the pair of you having such tragedies,’ and ‘I can’t believe you’ve both lost your husbands,’ as though she and Jill had been unforgivably careless.

      But Andreas merely nodded, the compelling eyes holding hers for a moment longer before he opened the door of the limousine and helped them in, his manner formal in the extreme.

      It was the first time he had touched Sophy, and the feel of his warm, firm flesh through the thin cotton sleeve of her light top was unnerving, although she wasn’t quite sure why.

      Once inside the overtly luxurious car, Michael’s oohs and ahhs filled the air space and provided a bridge over any difficult moments, and then Paul was negotiating the big car out of the car park and they were on their way.

      ‘Have you been to northern Greece before?’ Andreas asked politely after a few minutes, his glance taking in both women.

      ‘I haven’t been anywhere,’ Jill answered quickly, ‘apart from a holiday in France with a load of other students when we were at university, but Sophy’s always dashing off somewhere or other abroad with her job. She’s used to travelling.’

      ‘Really?’ The dark gaze focused on Sophy’s face.

      ‘A slight exaggeration,’ Sophy said quietly. ‘I’m a fashion buyer so I have to pop over the channel now and again, and there’s been the odd visit to Milan and New York, but most of the time I’m sitting at my desk with piles of paperwork in front of me.’

      ‘A fashion buyer.’ It could have been her imagination but Sophy thought she detected a note of something not quite nice in the deep voice. ‘So you are a career woman, Sophy? An ambitious one?’

      It was a perfectly reasonable question and if anyone else had asked it she wouldn’t have minded in the least, but somehow, coming from Andreas Karydis, it caught her on the raw. ‘I’m a woman in an extremely interesting job which I’ve worked very hard to attain and enjoy very much,’ Sophy said coolly, ‘but I don’t care for labels.’ It was dismissive but she kept it polite. Just.

      She felt Jill shift uncomfortably at the side of her but Theodore’s brother appeared quite unmoved, his eyes holding hers for a moment longer before he nodded unconcernedly, turning to Jill again as he said, ‘I might be prejudiced, of course, but I consider this part of Greece one of the most beautiful. Halkidiki is mainly an agricultural area with pine woods and olive groves, and you’ll find it’s picturesque but with a timeless feel about it. In many places the people’s way of life is still little affected by the twenty-first century, and the land is lush and green with wide open spaces and plenty of golden beaches. It is a pity you did not come in the spring; the fields are hidden under a blanket of flowers then, although they are still pretty in summer.’

      ‘Have you lived here all your life?’ Jill asked nervously after a few seconds had ticked by in silence.

      Andreas nodded, and then the piercing gaze swept over Sophy’s face for an instant as he said, his mouth twisting sardonically, ‘But, like your sister, I travel a little. My father has olive, lemon and orange groves on his estate, but his main interest has always centred in shipping. Now he is older he prefers to take things easy and leave the main bulk of the Karydis business interests to me to handle. This suits us both.’

      Jill nodded and said no more, but Sophy’s mind was racing with a hundred and one questions she knew she couldn’t ask. Was Theodore’s family as wealthy as this car and the way Andreas had been speaking was making her think they were? Had Theodore been the younger or the elder son, and were there any more brothers and sisters? What had caused Theodore to leave this wonderful part of the world and make a new life in England? Question after question was presenting itself to her, but she forced herself to turn and look out of the car window as though she wasn’t aware of the big dark man sitting opposite her, Michael at the side of him chattering away nineteen to the dozen.

      They had been travelling along a wide dusty road with rows of cypress trees flexing spearlike in the faint hot breeze on either side, but now they approached a small village dozing gently in the noonday sun. The glare of whitewashed walls was broken only by purple and scarlet hibiscus and bougainvillaea, and chickens were pecking desultorily here and there at the side of the road, their scrawny legs only moving with any purpose when the limousine nosed its way past.

      ‘Oh, there, Jill, look.’ Sophy nudged her sister as she pointed to a spring some way from the road, where a collection of women had brought amphora-shaped earthen jars to collect the pure sparkling water, the overspill from the spring filling a trough from which a small brown donkey was drinking. ‘Isn’t that just lovely?’ The two women were quite entranced.

      ‘The water is quite untainted,’ Andreas said quietly. ‘Most of the villages have their own water supply plumbed in these days, but still the women prefer to come to the meeting place and chat and gather the water for their families in the time-old tradition. I think maybe very few people have the need to see the doctor for this epidemic called stress which is so prevalent in the cities, eh?’ he added a touch cynically.

      ‘Will I be able to drink from a stream like that?’ Michael asked hopefully, ‘at my grandparents’s home?’

      All attention drawn back inside the car, Sophy saw Andreas was smiling indulgently, his voice faintly rueful as he said, ‘I’m afraid not, Michael. Your grandparents have all the conveniences of the twenty-first century, which includes water coming out of taps. However, if that were not so you would not be able to enjoy your own pool during your stay, so maybe it is not so bad?’

      The village passed, the car took a winding road where the occasional stone house set among lemon, fig and olive groves broke the vastness of green fields baking under a clear blue sky.

      ‘Why are those ladies wearing big boots?’ Michael asked his uncle a few minutes later, pointing to where sturdy women were busy working in the fields, their legs encased in enormous neutral-coloured leather knee boots and big straw hats on their heads. ‘Aren’t they too hot?’

      ‘It is for protection against the bite of snakes,’ Andreas said soberly. ‘It is not wise to work in the fields without them. This is Greece, little one. It is very different from England.’

      He was very different too. Andreas was giving his attention to his small nephew, and it gave Sophy the chance to watch him surreptitiously. And she dared bet he was just as dangerous as any snake. How old would he be? She looked at the uncompromisingly hard handsome face, at the firm carved lips and chiselled cheekbones, the straight thin nose and black eyebrows. He could be any age from his late twenties right up to forty; it was that sort of face. A face that would hardly change with the years.

      Theodore, at thirty-six years of age, had been eight years older than she and Jill, and in the last couple of years before his death had put on a considerable amount of weight and lost some of his hair. His brother was as different from him as chalk to cheese. But that happened in some families.

      And then Sophy came to sharply as she realised he had finished talking to Michael and that he was looking straight at her, his eyes like polished stone and his eyebrows raised in mocking enquiry.

      She flushed hotly, turning away and staring out of the window as her heart thumped fit to burst. He might look different, she qualified testily, but inside he was certainly a one hundred per cent Karydis, all right. Arrogant, cold, self-opinionated and dominating.

      She had never understood what had