His Forbidden Bride. Sara Craven

but at the same time—incredibly—her senses were registering other things. Telling her that the man confronting her with such cool arrogance was as seriously attractive as her instinct had suggested. Not conventionally handsome, maybe. His high-bridged nose was too thin, and his mouth and chin too hard for that. And his eyes were darkness. Meeting his gaze was like staring into impenetrable night, she thought, tension tautening her throat.

      But, at the same time, she knew instinctively that there wasn’t a woman in the world who would take one glance and not want to look again—and again. Because he was totally and compellingly male.

      He said quietly, ‘Kalimera.’

      Maybe, she thought breathlessly. Maybe there was a way she could bluff her way out of this.

      She spread her hands. Tried an apologetic laugh. ‘I’m sorry—I don’t understand. I don’t speak Greek.’

      He shrugged. ‘Then we will speak in English. It’s not a problem,’ he added drily as her face fell. ‘Tell me what you are doing here.’

      She said swiftly, ‘I’m not a thief.’

      ‘No,’ he agreed thoughtfully. ‘Because there is nothing here that you could conveniently steal.’ The dark glance swept her, assessing the flimsy blue dress, the canvas beach bag. ‘Or hide,’ he added.

      He looked her over again, more searchingly. ‘So, I ask again—what is your reason for being here?’

      ‘Someone mentioned there was a house for sale round here,’ Zoe improvised swiftly. ‘I thought it might be this one, as it’s obviously empty.’

      ‘No,’ he said. ‘It is not this house.’ He paused, his gaze steady and ironic. ‘And no one would have told you that it was.’ His voice was low-pitched but crisp.

      ‘You don’t think the owner might have put it on the market and not told you?’ she parried.

      ‘No,’ he said. ‘That would not happen either.’

      ‘Well, it’s still a fabulous house.’ Zoe lifted her chin. ‘Maybe the owner would be prepared to rent it out.’

      His brows rose. ‘You have nowhere to stay?’

      ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Of course I have. But this is such a lovely island. Perhaps I could come back—stay longer.’

      ‘You arrived—when?’ His mouth twisted. ‘Yesterday?’

      ‘It doesn’t take long,’ she said. ‘To find something—beautiful. And decide you want more.’

      The dark eyes looked her up and down again with mockery in their depths—and something infinitely more disturbing. ‘Well, we agree on something at least,’ he drawled, and laughed as the sudden colour drenched her skin.

      She was suddenly stingingly aware of all that tanned bare skin, so negligently displayed, and also how little she herself was wearing. And how this had not escaped him for a minute.

      She wished with all her heart that she were sitting at her table under the vine leaves, finishing breakfast, and contemplating nothing more risky than a day on the town beach. Because she was in danger. Every nerve in her body was telling her so.

      Just let me get out of here, relatively unscathed, she prayed silently and wildly.

      ‘Now let me tell you how I see the situation,’ he went on, almost casually. ‘I think you are staying at the Hotel Stavros. That Stavros’ wife has told you the cove that belongs to the house is good to bathe from, and that she comes here herself—not often but enough, and thinks that no one knows. And that once here, because you are a woman, you could not control your curiosity. So, you found an open door, and came in.’

      She hated herself for blushing. Hated him more for having made her do it. She said coldly, ‘You’re right, up to a point. But I was intrigued to hear the house was empty, because I might actually be interested in—acquiring it.’

      ‘And I have told you,’ he said. ‘It is not for sale.’

      ‘Really?’ She shrugged a shoulder. ‘Well, that’s not something I choose to discuss with the hired help.’ She paused to allow that to sink in, and was annoyed to see his smile widen. ‘Is the owner on Thania at present?’

      ‘No,’ he said. ‘Athens.’

      She wanted to say, That’s what you think, and wave the deed of gift in his face, yet caution prevailed.

      But, there will come a time, she promised herself. And anticipation will make it all the sweeter. Because the first Greek phrase I shall learn is ‘You’re fired’.

      She allowed herself a slight frown. Regaining lost ground, she told herself. Deliberately establishing a formal distance between them. Someone with business to transact dealing with a minor member of staff. That was how to handle things.

      ‘That’s a pity,’ she said. ‘But I suppose there’s someone on the island who can tell me how I could contact him.’

      ‘Why, yes, thespinis. You could always ask me.’ His face was solemn, but his voice quivered with amusement, leaving her with the uneasy feeling that he knew exactly what she was doing.

      She lifted her chin. ‘I hardly think I should approach him through his gardener,’ she said sharply.

      ‘But I am not merely the gardener,’ he said, softly. ‘I take care of a great many things for him. But if you wish to speak to him directly, he will soon be here on Thania. Within a week, I believe.’

      ‘And staying here?’

      ‘No,’ he said, after a pause. ‘He never stays here. He has a villa of his own quite near.’

      ‘That’s such a shame,’ Zoe said, and meant it. ‘It’s a wonderful house, but it’s bound to deteriorate if it isn’t lived in—and loved.’

      ‘You are wrong, thespinis,’ he said. ‘One thing this house has never lacked is love. It was built into every wall—every beam—every stone. Love is the reason it exists.’

      She was shaken by the sudden passion in his voice—and by the odd raw note of anger, too.

      She said, with a touch of uncertainty, ‘I’ll wait, then—and speak to him. When he arrives.’ She paused. ‘And now I’d better go.’

      ‘And where will you go?’ That strange, harsh moment had passed and he was smiling again, the dark eyes speculative as they studied her. ‘Down to the cove as you intended?’

      Zoe bit her lip. ‘No—that was a bad idea, and I’m sorry.’

      ‘Why?’ he said. ‘The sea is warm, and the sand inviting. And you will not be disturbed.’

      She was already disturbed, she thought. Stirred in every fibre of her being, and it was not a sensation she relished, or even wished to admit.

      Turned on by a good-looking Greek, she derided herself. How shameful—and how pathetic.

      She shrugged, attempted a smile of her own. ‘All the same…’

      ‘You like his house,’ he said. ‘I am sure my employer would wish you also to enjoy his beach. There is a way down from the terrace. I will show you.’

      ‘I really don’t think…’

      ‘Is that why you came to Thania—to think?’ He straightened in a leisurely manner, moving back a little. Offering her, she realised, free passage past him. ‘Then stop thinking, thespinis. Learn to relax. Begin—to feel.’

      ‘Perhaps, then,’ she said. Adding primly, ‘But I don’t want to take you away from your work.’

      ‘You will not,’ he said. ‘But my work, alas, will take me away from you. So, you see,’ he added gently, ‘there is nothing to fear.’

      Zoe stiffened. ‘I’m not in the