Mediterranean Seduction. Кэрол Мортимер

to be contemplating a long, relaxing soak in the bath, Charlotte realised, going to peer anxiously out of the small window.

      ‘Come away from there,’ Marianna insisted. ‘This is no time to worry about Iannis Kiriakos. First you must do as I say, or you will suffer very badly as a result of this sunburn.’ ‘But what if—’

      Marianna held up her hand. ‘You are safe here with me. This is my home. Iannis respects that. He will not see you if I do not wish him to.’

      ‘You don’t know what he’s like—’

      Marianna raised her eyebrows quizzically. ‘I can assure you I do,’ she said. ‘I have known Iannis Kiriakos from the moment he was born.’

      ‘I don’t understand.’

      ‘I was his nanny,’ Marianna said, her eyes brightening at the memory.

      Charlotte looked at her as another piece of the jigsaw slotted into place. ‘And you’ll keep him away from me?’ she asked dubiously.

      ‘Believe me,’ Marianna assured Charlotte as she studied her face again, ‘I would not dream of allowing Iannis to see you tonight.’

      Charlotte couldn’t wait to get to the mirror after Marianna left the bathroom. She was horrified by what she saw—especially as she had been so careful with her fair skin. For nearly four weeks she had been sensible, only to end up now looking like a bright red tomato.

      ‘You will sleep on your back,’ Marianna advised later in a bedroom, after she had applied some soothing balm to Charlotte’s burning skin.

      ‘But if Iannis should come looking for me—’

      ‘Leave Iannis to me,’ Marianna insisted firmly, closing the shutters before she went out. ‘Goodnight, and sleep well,’ she said, turning to smile at Charlotte. ‘And stop worrying about Iannis—about anything. You are quite safe now.’

      Charlotte gusted a heavy sigh, knowing there was little chance she would sleep. But the white cotton sheets were crisp and cool, and the pillowcases carried a faint scent of lavender. She uttered one more sigh as she snuggled down, and then knew nothing more until the strutting general of the chicken run called his troops to order at dawn the next morning.

      Coming slowly out of a deep sleep, Charlotte listened to everything carefully with her eyes firmly shut. There was a symphony of sound out in the yard that told her Marianna was giving the animals their first feed of the day. Once she had sifted through the various strands of sound Charlotte knew that the cottage itself was deep in silence.

      Slowly the events leading up to her arrival at Marianna’s home seeped into Charlotte’s thoughts, spoiling the short, relaxing interlude she had been enjoying between sleep and consciousness. Putting her hands up to her face, she tentatively pressed her fingertips into the flesh. There was hardly any pain there now, and, opening her eyes, she sat up to reach for the small pot of balm Marianna had left on the table by the side of the bed.

      Padding barefoot across the cool tiled floor, Charlotte examined her reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall. Her face was still pink, but not red and shiny as it had been the previous night. There was a distinct improvement. Taking the lid off the pot and scooping up some balm, she tested it between her fingers. It was like a white chalky paste, but the smell was not unpleasant. Applying it thickly, she left two pink circles around her eyes. The effect was quite startling, but that hardly mattered. All she cared about was the soothing effect and the balm’s healing properties, and she could feel it taking effect already.

      Returning the pot to the bedside table, she thirstily drained the last drop of water Marianna had left for her and then crossed the room to get some more.

      She felt like a galleon in full sail as she hurried down the passage towards the kitchen. The nightdress she had borrowed from Marianna was like a tent, and just as concealing. Down to her ankles and high at the neck, it had long sleeves that finished in a neat buttoned cuff. ‘Voluminous’ wasn’t the word for it, she thought with amusement, swirling the skirt like a Spanish dancer as she pushed open the kitchen door.

      She froze on the threshold. Iannis stood facing her in the centre of the room.

      Iannis could never have been prepared for the way his heart lurched at the sight of Charlotte. He had given his word to Marianna that he would do nothing to alarm her; that had been his ticket into the house. But he was well within his rights to slap her with a lawsuit. She had betrayed him, led him on—tied him up! His hands balled into fists as he stared at her. With all her false bravado stripped away and her gauzy hair billowing around her shoulders like a shimmering gold cape she was mesmerising. But her face! He watched her hand fly up in consternation as he looked at her.

      ‘Where’s Marianna?’ Charlotte demanded hoarsely. ‘What have you done with her?’ Her heart was thundering. She had brought nothing but trouble to a woman she really cared about.

      ‘Nothing has happened to Marianna,’ Iannis said, more sharply than he had intended. ‘She is tending the animals. She knows I am here.’

      As Charlotte stared at Iannis her thoughts were in confusion. There was so much history between them. They had packed a lifetime into such a short period. She was overwhelmed by feelings. And had she really tied him to a fender? For goodness’ sake! She was glad of the mask provided by Marianna’s balm—at least Iannis couldn’t see her face reddening beneath it. But then she remembered Marianna saying she would not allow Iannis to see her.

      ‘I don’t know how you tricked her, but—’

      ‘I tricked Marianna?’ Iannis demanded, proudly drawing himself up. ‘You amaze me, Charlotte,’ he said, enunciating each word with glittering clarity. ‘If anyone is adept at trickery it is you, and not me.’

      ‘Then why are you here, if you have such a poor opinion of me?’

      If only that was the case, Iannis reflected bitterly. She looked so young, so vulnerable. And the face mask, clearly something of Marianna’s concoction, only added to that impression. Even the shapeless garment she was wearing made him want to sweep her up in his arms and keep her safe beside him for ever. But he could not do that. Not after what she had done to him.

      ‘Why have you come here?’ Charlotte asked again, her eyes widening with apprehension.

      ‘I brought something for you to have a look at,’ Iannis said, pointing to a state-of-the-art laptop on the table.

      Her eyes were astonishingly beautiful, Iannis registered, even if at this moment they were a vivid, wary green. It gave him some small satisfaction to see how they clearly mirrored her dawning realisation that something very bad was about to happen. With one flick of his wrist he spun the laptop around so that she could see the screen.

      Charlotte crept close enough to read the text.

      Iannis watched as her lips fell apart. She could not have faked that, he realised, firming his own mouth. She could not have faked that expression of absolute surprise.

      ‘I don’t understand,’ Charlotte whispered fiercely. ‘It just can’t be possible—’

      ‘Well, I can assure you it is possible,’ Iannis said harshly. ‘You are reading the front page of today’s Daily Messenger.’

      ‘But I don’t understand,’ Charlotte repeated, her eyes wide with concern as she turned to face him. ‘I promise you, I had absolutely nothing to do with this…’

      Her voice trailed away as she turned back to the screen again in confusion. She certainly hadn’t misread it. The banner across the top of the daily newspaper read: Greek Tycoon Unmasked! And next to the garish red print there was a picture of Iannis, half-naked, with the waves lapping over his feet, hauling nets with the other fishermen.

      ‘You said an article in a magazine,’ he reminded her in a voice that jabbed at her heart. ‘And you made a promise to me that you would have it pulled. You e-mailed your editor,’ he reminded her when Charlotte