Modern Romance December 2016 Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит

an incredulous little laugh as she pictured herself in such a ridiculous getup. She hated heels and the only thing she wore to bed was a very old, very large and very comfy T-shirt. This made her smother another laugh, and Angelos glanced at her, eyes narrowed.

      ‘What’s so funny?’

      For a second she imagined telling him, and that made her laughter cut off like a tap being turned off. Would he be appalled or incredulous or both? She knew Angelos Mena was way, way out of her league. ‘Nothing,’ she assured him. ‘Nothing at all.’

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      BY THE TIME they reached home, dark clouds were billowing up on the horizon and the wind that had been teasing and warm while they’d been on the beach had turned hard, buffeting them as they crested the hill above Angelos’s villa.

      ‘There will be a storm tonight,’ Angelos remarked as he led the way down the hill towards the house. ‘Make sure you close the shutters in your bedroom.’

      ‘A storm?’ Alarm prickled along Talia’s skin at the thought.

      Angelos must have heard the anxiety in her voice for he glanced at her, eyebrows raised. ‘We will be perfectly safe in the villa. It is built to withstand such things.’

      ‘I’m sure,’ Talia murmured. She hated storms. Hated, hated, hated them. So much so that she had, in the past, swallowed a couple of sleeping pills while she waited one out. She’d rather be dead to the world than trembling in terror as it raged around her.

      But she didn’t want to knock herself out here, with Sofia needing her. Maybe the storm wouldn’t be that bad. A little rain and wind was fine. It was the thunder and lightning that she couldn’t stand, the booming that reverberated through her chest, the lightning that streaked through the sky and, for one blazing second, illuminated everything.

      Just the thought of it made her head start to feel light, and a buzzing began in her ears. Talia took a deep breath, willing the panic away. She’d been so good, these last eleven days, in controlling her fear. Being on Kallos had felt, in a way, like being on the estate. Isolated. Safe.

      But a storm...

      ‘Talia?’ Angelos asked, his voice harsh and insistent. ‘Are you all right?’

      ‘What?’ She blinked up at him, swaying slightly where she stood. They’d walked down the hillside without her even realising it and they now stood on the terrace outside the kitchen. Sofia must have gone inside. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, even though she knew she wasn’t. She dragged another deep breath into her lungs. ‘Totally fine. Where’s Sofia?’

      ‘She went inside to change.’ Angelos was still frowning at her, his gaze moving over her like a doctor checking for broken bones. ‘Do you not like storms?’

      ‘Not particularly.’ The smile she gave him felt like a horrible rictus. The wind was picking up so much now her hair blew about her face, and then she heard a distant rumble and her heart free-fell towards her toes. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said as firmly as she could. She didn’t want Angelos to see her anxiety, even though she knew she must be showing it, at least a little. She hated for anyone to know her weaknesses; it was bad enough for her grandfather and siblings to feel sorry for her, to know how damaged she was. She couldn’t bear for others to see it, and especially someone like Angelos, who was so strong and capable. He probably wasn’t afraid of anything.

      ‘If you’re sure,’ he said, sounding doubtful, and Talia forced a nod.

      ‘I’m sure.’

      She walked up to her bedroom and ran a shower, glad that the rush of water drowned out the noise of the thunder rumbling in the distance, like a discontented giant. She rested her head against the tile as she let the water stream over her and tried to calm the racing of her heart.

      It’s just a storm. It can’t hurt you. No one can hurt you now. You’re safe. You’re safe.

      Words she’d repeated to herself countless times over the last seven years, but she never really believed them, not deep down. She’d never trusted that she would be safe, not unless she was hidden behind high walls, locked gates, like some frightened Rapunzel up in her tower.

      You’re on an island. No one can hurt you here. No one can get to you.

      Really, she was so much safer on Kallos than anywhere else. She had to believe that, because if she didn’t, she’d start thinking about how small the island was, how confined and cut off. And then her claustrophobia would kick in, and she’d really be in trouble.

      Resolutely Talia turned off the shower and dressed in her one pair of jeans and a thick fleece. With the approaching storm the weather had cooled down and she stood by the window for a moment, gazing out at a wide sky the colour of a livid bruise before she closed and latched the shutters, releasing a shaky breath. She still had dinner to get through.

      Downstairs the house was dark, the shutters all closed against the storm. Somewhere in the distance a loose shutter banged, and the sound made unease prickle along Talia’s scalp. She hated that lonely, mournful sound. She shivered, and then jumped when she heard Angelos’s low voice coming from right behind her.

      ‘Are you cold?’

      ‘No...’ She turned, blinking in the gloom to see him emerge from his study. His hair was damp from a shower and he’d changed into faded jeans that moulded to his thighs and a grey crew-neck sweater that clung to his chest. Even in the midst of her panic Talia couldn’t keep from feeling a kick of desire at the sight of him. He was glorious, utterly and wonderfully male.

      ‘You shivered,’ Angelos explained, coming closer so she breathed in the scent of his skin, warm male and soap. Her mind spun crazily. ‘So I thought you were cold.’

      ‘I’m fine.’ She took a needed step backwards. If he came any closer she’d start purring. ‘Shall we go into the kitchen?’ She turned away without waiting for a reply, her heart bumping in her chest both from Angelos’s closeness and the storm outside. Did Angelos realise the effect he had on her? She had a feeling she might as well have her attraction to him spelled out in blazing letters on a neon sign, but even so she hoped he didn’t notice.

      In any case, he was probably used to women lighting up like a firework when he was around. Maria had mentioned the other nannies trying to get into his bed, after all. Angelos probably found her obvious desire amusing and a little pitiful, which of course it was.

      She had to get a handle on it, as well as on her panic. Control. That was what was needed here. Deep, even breathing to steady her heart rate, and a logical reminder that she really was safe.

      Taking a deep breath, Talia joined Maria and Sofia at the table. The kitchen was warm and brightly lit, the spicy smell of roasted lamb filling the air, and all of it helped to push back her anxiety about the storm.

      Then Angelos came into the room and her stomach flip-flopped at the nearness of him. She was a mess.

      Talia ate her dinner as quickly as she could without being rude, and then chivvied Sofia upstairs to get ready for bed without waiting for coffee. Angelos looked bemused, but since he’d been the first to leave the table last night Talia didn’t think he could complain.

      She stood by the window while Sofia readied for bed, listening to the rain sleet against the shutters. It sounded like a herd of elephants had taken residence on the roof, but the noise didn’t bother her. She could handle rain.

      Then a distant rumbling sounded, followed by the ear-splitting crack of thunder. Talia let out a little shriek, clutching at the wall to balance herself, and Sofia came out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, a frown on her face.

      ‘Okay?’ she asked, and Talia nodded quickly.

      ‘Yes, I’m okay.’ Maybe if she kept saying it, it would actually become true.

      She read Sofia a chapter