It was heaven and it was h.e.l.l-and it was wrong. No matter how tempting it would be to abandon his own scru ples, as she had apparently abandoned hers, he told himself he couldn't do it.

He had been crazy to let things get this far and he had to stop it now. With a groan of anguish, he brought his hands to her shoulders to push her away.

But his own needs betrayed him. When he touched the tight-fitting tee shirt, and realised that it was all that was between him and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, good sense slid away. His fingers slipped down her arms to grip the soft curve of her midriff. With his thumbs stroking the undersides of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, it took very little effort to move higher and palm the swollen peaks.

Khristo! He dragged his mouth away from hers to look at what he was doing, his breath constricting in his throat. She was so responsive, her heart palpitating wildly beneath his hands. Her chest rose and fell with the urgency of her arousal, and her scent, warm and seductive, rose to his nos trils. What was more, he thought he could happily drown in the wanton languor of her eyes.

But the look in her eyes was changing. As he watched, almost drugged by his own emotions, a look of horror re turned to her face. Perhaps if he'd still been kissing her, perhaps if he'd still been plundering her mouth with the hunger he hadn't been able to deny, she wouldn't have had the chance to come to her senses. As it was, her hands at his nape became claws that tore him away from her, her flailing legs nearly unmanning him as she fought to scram ble to her feet.

Before he could beat her to it, her angry tongue lashed out at him. 'How-how dare you?' she cried. 'How could you?

You're-you're despicable!'

'And you are...?' suggested Demetri, in a dangerously bland tone. He got to his feet with a contrived lack of haste and regarded her with an amazingly calm look of enquiry. 'What are you, Joanna? Apart from my father's-' He broke off, knowing full well that she would finish the sentence for him. 'I would like to hear your interpretation of what just happened.'

Joanna swayed. She was obviously distressed, and he de- spised himself for suddenly feeling sorry for her. She had had no shame so why should he?

'Go-go to h.e.l.l!' she said at last, somehow summoning the strength to answer him, and, after bending to rescue her hat, she stuffed it into her haversack, and strode unsteadily away towards the car.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Demetri left for Athens early the next morning.

Constantine gave her the news when she joined him in his suite before breakfast, and Joanna realised that Demetri must have been on board the helicopter she'd heard circling the island as she was getting dressed. She felt a shiver of relief at the knowledge that she wasn't going to have to confront him again that day, and wondered if his trip had been arranged for the same purpose.

But, no. Demetri was unlikely to let anything she did influence his actions, and Constantine's explanation-that he was going to bring his sister and her fiance back to the island-was a bleak confirmation. He was completely with out honour or conscience, and she despised herself for being a party to his betrayal of his father.

The journey back to the villa the day before had been fraught with tension. They hadn't spoken to one another after what had happened at the temple and Joanna had made a concerted effort not to look at Demetri either. She couldn't have borne to see the smug expression she'd been sure he'd be wearing, and she'd been overwhelmingly relieved when the stone gateposts that guarded the entrance to the villa had loomed ahead of them. She'd leapt out of the vehicle as soon as Demetri had applied the brakes, offering him only a m.u.f.fled 'Thanks' before hurrying inside.

Thanks! That had hardly been warranted, she'd chided herself later, when a maid had come to ask if she would be joining the family for lunch. Her excuse for refusing-that she had a headache and was going to rest for a while-had been just as mendacious, and she'd guessed that Demetri would see it for what it was. But she hadn't cared. She honestly didn't know how she was going to face him again, and she'd spent half the night wondering if she should tell Constantine that she couldn't continue with this charade.

But what excuse could she give? She couldn't tell Constantine what had happened, not without destroying the faith he had in his only son. Besides, the truth was her behaviour had only reinforced Demetri's opinion of her. He thought she was only using his father for her own purposes and he believed he'd proved it. But, like her, he couldn't use the argument. Not without implicating himself.

Still, Constantine did look considerably better this morn ing, which was a blessing. He wasn't dressed yet; when she'd joined him in his apartments he'd been resting in his chair beside his bed, wearing only his dressing gown, flick ing through some of the letters and reports that Demetri had handled in his absence. Now they were sitting out on his balcony, enjoying fresh fruit and coffee and warmly scented rolls in the open air. He was still not dressed, but Joanna wasn't worried. It was so good to see him up and about again.

b.u.t.tering a roll, Joanna realised it was the first food she'd been able to face since the previous morning. The night before she'd only picked at the mousakas Constantine had insisted on ordering for her, and, although he had com plained, she'd noticed his appet.i.te had been sadly lacking too. Now, though, he seemed to be enjoying the peach she had peeled for him, laughing a little ruefully as the juice from the fruit insisted on dribbling down his chin.

'Um-when will-Demetri be back?' she asked at last, finishing the roll and reaching for her coffee. She had to know.

She had to prepare herself for their eventual con frontation, whenever that would be.

'Ah...' Constantine wiped his mouth with his napkin and set it aside. 'Probably tomorrow,' he replied thoughtfully. 'The wedding is in less than a week, as you know. Alex will want to spend some time in her own home before Costas spirits her away to Penang.'

Joanna took a breath, trying not to think about how short- lived her respite was going to be. 'Penang?' she said, as if she'd never heard of it before, 'Is that where they're going for their honeymoon?'

'Indeed.' Constantine smiled. 'You have never been to Malaysia, Joanna?'

'No.' In fact, she had been hardly anywhere. Except Sardinia, she reminded herself bitterly. She would never for get Sardinia, 'Is it nice?'

Constantine covered her hand with his. 'It is beautiful,' he told her gently. 'Very beautiful.' He paused. 'Like you, agapi mou.' He paused again, and then said perceptively, 'What is wrong?'

'Wrong?' Joanna hoped he would attribute the slight tremor she could detect in her voice to astonishment. 'What could be wrong, Constantine? I am here, in one of the most perfect places in the world, with probably the kindest man I could ever hope to meet. What could I possibly find wrong with that?'

'Veveus.' Indeed. But Constantine was still regarding her with concerned eyes. 'So, tell me more about your outing with Demetri. Last evening you seemed a little tired, and I did not press it. Oh, you said you had enjoyed the visit to the Temple of Athena, but you said little about Demetri himself. Was he polite to you? Did he conduct himself in a way I would have approved of?'

If the situation hadn't been so serious Joanna thought she might have laughed out loud. But it would have been a hysterical laugh, and at herself, not at his words. Dear G.o.d, how was she supposed to answer him? What was that ex pression about being economical with the truth?

'Demetri isn't entirely happy with-with our relation ship,' she said carefully. 'But you know that.'

Constantine's mouth tightened. 'You are saying he was rude to you?'

Rude? Once again the urge to laugh was almost irre sistible, but she fought it back. 'Um-not rude, no,' she managed weakly.

Then, hoping to change the subject, 'He- he's very knowledgeable about the island, isn't he? I was especially interested in the stories about Athena and what she is supposed to have done-'

'Arketa! Enough! With an abrupt cutting gesture of his hand Constantine silenced her, his lined face dark with an ger. 'I am not interested in what my son had to say about our myths and legends, Joanna. I want to know what he had to say about me-about us.'

Joanna's lips parted in alarm. In her haste to rea.s.sure him she had obviously said the wrong thing, and somehow she had to convince him that nothing untoward had happened.

'He-didn't say anything about-about you, Constantine,' she protested urgently. 'I-I just get the feel ing he doesn't like me.

He thinks I'm a gold-digger. That's all I meant.'

'In other words, Demetri does not consider his father is still capable of attracting a beautiful woman,' retorted Con stantine shortly, 'In his eyes I am just a pathetic old man, trying to boost his ego in the company of a trophy mistress!'

'No...' Joanna realised she had only worsened the situ ation, and she wished she had had more warning of what was to come.

But then, she hadn't taken Constantine's in securities into consideration, 'It's me he despises, not you.'

'Those were his words, were they?'

'No.' Joanna was floundering now. 'That's not what I meant.'

'What did you mean, Joanna?' Constantine looked weary now. ' Then pirazi, so long as he does not suspect the truth I suppose that is all that matters, ne?'

'Yes.' Joanna breathed a little more freely. 'And I can a.s.sure you, he believes every word you say.'

'Good.'

Joanna hesitated. 'You're not upset, are you, Constantine?'

'Upset?' His hand fell away to his lap, and to her relief a rueful smile touched his lips, 'I suppose my ego has suffered a blow,' he admitted drily. 'But, no, I am not upset with you, my dear. I am just sorry that you had to bear the brunt of my son's displeasure. Demetri's tongue can be very-wounding. I know.'

Joanna looked down at her coffee. She didn't want to think about Demetri's tongue at that moment. Didn't want to remember what he had done with that tongue, or how warm and hungry it had felt in her mouth. He'd used his tongue to captivate her, to give her an indication of how easy it would have been for him to seduce her. And she'd let him. She'd actually encouraged him.

And, whether his lovemaking had been hot and spontaneous or cold and cal culating, she'd surrendered any right to judge him.

Oh, Lord...

'You would tell me if there was anything else?'

To her dismay, Constantine was still watching her and he had interpreted her expression in an entirely different way. 'Of course,' she replied hurriedly, thanking the saints that he couldn't read her mind at that moment. She picked up her cup in both hands to avoid any chance of spilling her coffee. 'Urn-tell me about Alex's fiance. Is he handsome? Has she known him long?'

Constantine heaved a sigh. 'Long enough.' he said, and she thought at first he was still preoccupied with Demetri's behaviour. But then he added. 'Costas is the son of Andrea Karadinos. Andrea is a friend as well as a business a.s.sociate. Our children have known one another since they were young. It is fortunate that they appear to love one another. But Alex knows she is cementing our relationship by mar rying Costas.'

Joanna stared at him. 'So it's an arranged marriage?' She didn't know why she should feel so surprised.

'In a way.' Constantine's lips twisted. 'Ah, Joanna. I can see that that troubles you.'

'No.' But it did.

And he knew it. 'You have to understand,' he said. 'Alex is my daughter. As such, she is a target for every fortune- hunter she meets. That is not to say that if she had fallen in love with a man I did not know I would necessarily have prevented her from marrying him. I am not so cruel. But it is much easier that she has chosen a man I like. I was happy to give my permission. Etsi, kanena provlima! No problem, ne?'

Joanna shook her head. 'I didn't realise you were so- so-traditional.'

'Do you not mean conventional?' enquired Constantine drily, 'I have to admit, I do have certain expectations as far as my children are concerned. Olivia went against my wishes and divorced the man I had chosen for her, and you can see how aimless her life has become. I do not want that to happen to Alex.'

'And Demetri?'

Joanna could have bitten out her tongue. Why had she asked that? After trying so hard to put thoughts of Demetri behind her, she'd said exactly the wrong thing.

Constantine was frowning now. 'Demetri?' he echoed. 'Did he mention a filenatha to you?'

'I-no.' Joanna was fl.u.s.tered again. She had heard that word before. It meant girlfriend, 'I just wondered...' ...what you had in store for him, she finished silently. She didn't want to acknowledge that the idea of Demetri marrying a woman of his father's choosing was a disturbing thought.

'My son knows his duty,' Constantine replied at last- which could have meant anything. 'He knows what I expect of him. He will not let me down.'

By getting involved with a woman he believes is sleeping with his father, Joanna added under her breath, still not knowing why that should matter to her.

She forced a smile. 'I'm sure you're right,' she said, as suming a lightness she didn't feel. 'Now, what shall we do this morning?'

In the event, Joanna did very little.

Constantine insisted on examining his mail before joining her on the patio downstairs, and after about half an hour he sent a message with Philip, asking that she forgive him if he didn't join her until later. There were business matters to be dealt with, Philip explained stiffly. Phone calls to be made. A backlog of decisions to be sanctioned.

The arrival of Nikolas Poros a little while later was an other diversion, and signalled the death knell of any hopes she might have had of them spending the morning together.

In consequence, Joanna went back to her room, changed into her swimsuit and a wraparound skirt, and returned to the patio.

She'd brought a magazine with her and, taking up a position on one of the cushioned loungers beside the pool, she tilted her face to the sun.

She'd been sitting there for perhaps fifteen minutes when she heard footsteps crossing the terrace. Olivia, she thought depressingly, wondering how she could have been so stupid as to think that Constantine's daughter would miss a chance like this.

But she was pleasantly surprised when a male voice said, 'I would advise you to wear suncream, Mrs Manning. It would be unwise to risk burning such delicate skin.'

Spiro. Joanna turned her head to find Demetri's personal a.s.sistant standing beside her chair, his expression one of good humour mixed with mild concern. He was dressed in khaki shorts and a short-sleeved cotton shirt worn outside his trousers, his dark hair still damp-from his shower, she suspected.

'I did put some cream on my arms and legs before leaving my room, Mr Stavros,' she replied now, shading her eyes to look up at him. 'But thanks for the advice.'

'My pleasure,' he said smoothly, his smile revealing a row of even white teeth. 'And. please: call me Spiro.'

'All right. Spiro.' She smiled, realising that most women would find him very attractive. 'And I'm Joanna. I'm not used to answering to Mrs Manning.'

'Why?' He hooked the adjoining lounger with his foot and seated himself on the end of it. 'Is it not your name?'

Joanna's mouth drew in. 'If you're asking whether I've been married or not, then, yes. It's my name. It's just-well, most people call me Joanna.'

Spiro shrugged, 'I was curious, that is all.'

'You were? Or was it Demetri?' she countered, realising that she should not be deceived into thinking that Spiro was any more likely to want her here than his employer. 'Did he ask you to speak to me?'

'Demetri has gone to Athens.'

'To bring his sister home. I know,' said Joanna tersely, without pointing out that that wasn't what she'd asked him. 'Why aren't you with him?'

'We are not-how do you say it?-joined at the hip, ne?'

remarked Spiro drily, 'I am his a.s.sistant, not his bodyguard.'

'His bodyguard?' Joanna caught her breath. 'Does he need one?'

Spiro studied her expression for a moment and then glanced away towards the pool. 'Perhaps.' he said. 'Some times.' He drew a breath, 'It is a beautiful morning, is it not?'

'Beautiful,' agreed Joanna a little dazedly, remembering what Constantine had said about security when she'd first arrived.

She'd forgotten what a dangerous place the world could be, and had taken the men who surrounded Constantine for granted.

He'd always dismissed them as nurses or chauffeurs, but now she realised she'd been naive in not seeing them as bodyguards, too.

This was a very wealthy family, after all. They were bound to have enemies. Demetri was bound to have enemies. Oh, G.o.d, why hadn't she thought of that before?

Aware that her palms were sweating, she quickly swung her feet off the lounger and sat up. The idea of Demetri needing a bodyguard had mined her mood. She was antsy; anxiety tugged at her solar plexus. At least Constantine wasn't here to witness it, but she didn't trust Spiro not to see that she was spooked.

'I-think I'll have a swim,' she said, even though until that moment she'd had no thought of going into the water. She rubbed her arms as if they were burning. 'As you say, it is very hot.'

'He will be back tomorrow, Joanna,' Spiro remarked, get ting to his feet with her and reminding her briefly of Demetri, with his superior height and muscled frame. 'He does not take chances.'

'And why should that be of any interest to me?' she asked, stepping towards the edge of the pool, then glancing back at him.

'I'll remember what you said about the sun screen,' she added.