Smokescreen Marriage

Whereas she—she was strangling in this bloody sheet.

‘Which does not matter when I am here alone, as I usually am,’ he went on.

‘But last night,’ Kate said, her voice shaking. ‘Was different.’

‘Of course,’ he said softly. ‘Because you were here.’ He paused. ‘I have ordered breakfast to be served to us on the terrace. Would you like me to run a bath for you?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘I think I’ve had enough personal services for one lifetime. Like being undressed and put to bed last night.’

‘You could not do it for yourself.’ He made it all sound so reasonable, she thought in helpless outrage. ‘You were barely conscious, pedhi mou.’

‘I’m aware of that,’ Kate said between her teeth. ‘And I am not your little one.’

He frowned slightly. ‘You have had a shock,’ he said. ‘But it is over now, and you have come to no harm.’

‘Perhaps I don’t see it like that.’ The sheet was slipping, and she hitched it up, anchoring it with her arms. A gesture that was not lost on him.

There was still laughter in his eyes, but that had been joined by another element. Something darker—more disturbing. Something she had glimpsed in those dark, heated hours in the night, but did not want to recognise again.

Yet, at the same time, she realised that she had to confront him—had to know. Had to…

‘Then how do you see it?’ The dark eyes moved over her in frank assessment. He was enjoying this, she thought, her anger mounting. ‘Maybe we can reach a compromise.’

Kate drew a shaky breath. ‘I’d prefer the truth. Did you come to this room during the night.’

‘Yes. I came to check that you were all right. So did the housekeeper, and also the hotel doctor. It was quite a procession,’ he added drily.

She swallowed. ‘But you were also here alone.’

He frowned. ‘I have said so.’

She touched her dry lips with her tongue.

‘Did you—touch me?’

There was a silence. Then, ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘I did not mean you to know, but I could not resist. Your hair looked so beautiful spread across my pillow. I had this irresistible desire to feel it under my hand.’

She stared at him. ‘And was that all—your only irresistible desire, Kyrios Theodakis?’

He sighed. ‘There was a tear on your cheek. I brushed it away.’

‘And then you left,’ she said. ‘Is that what I’m supposed to believe?’

The dark eyes narrowed. He said softly, ‘What are you trying to say?’

Kate bit her lip. ‘Where exactly did you spend the night, Mr Theodakis?’

‘This is a suite, Kyria Dennison. There are two bedrooms. I slept in the second. And I slept well. I hope you did too,’ he added courteously.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I didn’t. I had the strangest dreams.’

The dark eyes narrowed. ‘The effect of the drug, perhaps.’

‘Perhaps,’ she said. ‘But this was such a vivid dream. So realistic.’

‘You are fortunate,’ he drawled. ‘I rarely remember mine.’

‘I’d give a hell of a lot,’ Kate said stormily, ‘not to remember this one.’

‘You interest me.’ He was frowning again, his eyes fixed watchfully on her flushed face. ‘You can describe it to me over breakfast.’

‘I don’t want any breakfast,’ she hurled at him. ‘And I certainly don’t want to eat with you. Because I don’t believe it was a dream at all—you unspeakable bastard. Any more than I believe you spent the night in another room.’

His brows lifted. ‘You’re saying this dream involved me in some way?’

He sounded politely interested, no more. But there was a new tension in the tall figure. A sudden electricity in the room.

‘Yes, I am. I’m saying you—used me last night.’

“‘Used”,’ Michael Theodakis said musingly. ‘An interesting choice of word. Do you mean that we made love?’

Kate’s voice shook. ‘I said exactly what I meant. And you took a filthy advantage of me. Oh, you’re so damned sure of yourself,’ she went on recklessly. ‘So convinced that you’re the answer to any woman’s prayer. I expect you thought I’d be honoured—if I ever remembered.’

‘So let us test this memory of yours,’ he said softly. ‘Tell me, agapi mou, exactly what I did to you.’

She said defensively, ‘I can’t recall the actual details.’

‘But was it good for you?’ He sounded almost casual. ‘You must remember that. For instance, did you come?’

Kate gasped, colour flooding her face. ‘How dare you.’

‘But I need to know. I would hate to think I had disappointed you in any way.’ He walked slowly towards her. ‘Perhaps I should—jog your memory a little.’

‘Keep away from me.’ Kate shrank back.

‘But why?’ There was danger in his voice. He bent lithely, retrieving one of the pillows from the floor. Tossing it on to the bed beside her. His smile did not reach his eyes as he looked at her. ‘When we have already been so close—so intimate? And this time, my beautiful one, I will make sure that you do not forget—anything.’

His hand snaked out, hooking into the folds of linen tucked above her breasts, and tugging them free, uncovering her completely.

Kate gave a small wounded cry, and turned instinctively on to her side, curling into a ball, and sheltering her body with her hands from the arrogance of his gaze, as humiliated tears burned in her throat.

‘Why so modest?’ His tone lashed her. ‘According to you, there is nothing that I have not already seen and enjoyed.’

‘Please,’ she managed, chokingly. ‘Please—don’t…’

‘But I am an unspeakable bastard, agapi mou,’ he said softly. ‘So why should I listen?’

She couldn’t think of a single reason, huddled there on his bed, her breath catching on a sob.