The Santorini Bride. Anne McAllister

more women would improve matters?

      And Agnetta Carlsson of all people! Theo grimaced inwardly. She didn’t even know Agnetta! Did she?

      Cassandra, who obviously could read minds, explained. “I’ve been modeling this past year, and I worked with Agnetta lots this spring. They seem to think it’s cool, her being so fair and me so dark.” She shrugged. “We got to be friends. And when I had lunch with your mother last week in the city, Agnetta came along. She wanted to meet your mom because you two were friends.”

      Was that what they had been? Theo wouldn’t have called it that. He had met Swedish model Agnetta Carlsson last summer at a sailboat race off Marseilles. She had been there on a fashion photo shoot. And after the race and the shoot, there had been a party and Agnetta had come with one of the Australians, who got drunk and promptly forgot her.

      Agnetta hadn’t minded. She had found someone far more interesting—Theo.

      And at the time Theo had been equally, though casually, interested in her.

      His brother George had once called him “an equal opportunity womanizer.” And while Theo wouldn’t have put it that crudely, he had never claimed not to like women. He did. And gorgeous curvy blondes like Agnetta definitely topped the list. He’d charmed Agnetta that night. And she’d charmed him. Still, he’d been clear about what interested him—and what didn’t.

      “No strings,” he’d said right up front.

      “Strings?” She’d batted her gorgeous long lashes at him. “But no.” She’d cuddled up to him and kissed him soundly. “Of course not!”

      Agnetta was beautiful. She was eager. She had been good fun and, not surprisingly, she had been good in bed.

      For a month they had been an item. The society editors and gossip columnists loved them. Agnetta’s blond beauty and Theo’s dark features were a photographer’s dream. But soon the columnists—and Agnetta—began talking about marriage.

      Is Aggie “the one”? One of the tabloids shrieked.

      Will Aggie catch her man? Asked another.

      Aggie’s rock? Big as Gibraltar? Demanded a third.

      Does Aggie have a secret? Screamed a fourth.

      “Where the hell are they getting this stuff?” Theo had done his own demanding. “We aren’t getting married!”

      “Of course not, darling.” Agnetta had batted her lashes and shaken her head. “Unless,” she had given him a dimpled coy smile, “they know something we don’t know!”

      “Not bloody likely,” Theo had said gruffly.

      But it soon became apparent that they had heard rumors Theo hadn’t. At least not until Agnetta had come to him a week later and said, “I’m pregnant, Theo.”

      “Pregnant?”

      Theo found that hard to believe. He was a careful, responsible man. And he’d never been less than careful with Agnetta. He’d asked to see the pregnancy test, asked to talk to her doctor.

      Agnetta’s face had flushed. “You don’t believe me?”

      He didn’t say that. But he hadn’t married her, either. He would marry her if a child was involved. But he was determined to wait and see first.

      Agnetta had been appalled, then angry. “You don’t trust me!” she’d accused him.

      “Show me a test. I want to talk to your doctor.” He’d been adamant.

      Agnetta had thrown a shoe at him. She’d cried and wailed.

      Theo had not been moved. “We’ll know soon enough,” he’d said. “Plenty of time.”

      And within two weeks the wait was justified. There were more tears, of course. Cascades of them. But they were followed by a convenient announcement.

      “I—I m-must have been l-late. I thought I was pregnant! It’s because I’m so stressed about our relationship!” She’d glared at him accusingly.

      He’d nodded understandingly. “Well, we wouldn’t want you to be stressed, would we?”

      Agnetta brightened at once and went to put her arms around him. “So we will marry anyway?” she said eagerly.

      “No. It will be better if I just get out of your life.”

      And so he had.

      He hadn’t seen Agnetta again—until this minute.

      Now she smiled calculatingly at him over Cassie’s shoulders. “Such a wonderful suggestion your mother made,” she purred. “Come and spend a week here in our new house, she said to us. So kind. So sweet. And so nice of that girl to be here to let us in.”

      Theo’s eyes narrowed. “What girl?”

      “Marla? No, Martha,” Agnetta corrected herself. “The girl in the kitchen. She let us in. Helped us with our bags. Very helpful.”

      “Was she?” Theo said through his teeth.

      “Oh, yes,” Cassie agreed, beaming.

      He’d kill her. Damn Martha Antonides! She knew he didn’t want anyone here! Especially not a pair of females who were setting their sights on him.

      “She said she was sure you wouldn’t mind the intrusion, that that’s what family homes were for. To be shared,” Cassie reported.

      “Did she?” The penny—hell, the whole damn national debt—dropped. Theo’s jaw came together with a snap. “Where is she?”

      “Just making us a snack, she said,” Agnetta answered, turning to smile in the direction of the kitchen.

      Theo turned, too, and was treated to the sight of Martha Antonides giving him a brilliant smile and waggling her fingers at him in a little wave.

      If he could have killed her with a look, she’d have keeled over dead.

      Instead she dared to sashay toward them, still all smiles, carrying a tray with bread and oil and canapes and olives.

      “I knew you’d be thrilled to have company.” She met his gaze with a challenging one of her own as she held out the plate to Agnetta and Cassie. “It was so sweet of your mother to think of you here by yourself, with so much room available—and hospitality being the cornerstone of Greek culture.”

      “Is it?” Theo’s tone was deadly. “I thought war was.”

      Her expression grew suddenly wary, but almost immediately she seemed to regain her equilibrium.

      “Both, I think,” she said, aiming a cheery smile at both Cassie and Agnetta. “Battling with your friends is almost as much fun as battling with your enemies, don’t you think?”

      “I expect we’re going to find out.” Theo swept the plate from her hands and thrust it into Agnetta’s. “If I may have a word with you, Ms. Antonides?”

      “I don’t think—”

      “You don’t need to,” he informed her as he spun her into his arms, pulling her hard against him and moving her toward the bedroom.

      “Mr. Savas! I’m not—”

      “That’s what you think,” he cut her off. And as she began to protest again, he shut her up the only way he knew how.

      He pressed his lips to hers, backed her down the short hall and into his bedroom where he kicked the door shut behind them and met her furious gaze with a satisfied smile. “All’s fair in love and war, sweetheart.”