rotor blades grabbed her attention.
Pandora’s stomach clenched and a fine attack of perspiration broke out along the back of her neck. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Especially not in that—” she stabbed a finger at the helicopter “—hellishly dangerous thing. I want a taxi to the airport. I’m leaving. I want a divorce.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
Zac’s bronzed face was hard. Inscrutable. This was not the man she’d fallen in love with. This was someone else altogether. A stranger, stripped of the indulgent, cherishing mask. A man so hard she feared he’d break her.
As he’d already broken her heart.
“How could I ever have agreed to marry you? I hate you.”
Something moved across his face, a flash of darkness, and then it was gone. “That’s too bad. Because we’re going on honeymoon, to be alone—like you wanted.”
“No way!”
There was a reckless gleam in his eyes. “Well, then, what have I got to lose?”
Picking her up, he hoisted her over his shoulder and tore across the grass to the open doors of the helicopter.
“No,” she yelled, fear making her stiff.
He ignored her.
Each stride he took caused her to lurch against his shoulder, and with one hand she clung to her handbag while the other clutched his shirt.
“Put me down!” Pandora caught a glimpse of Aki’s startled face as Zac clambered into the helicopter, his arms tight as chains around her.
“Stop fighting me.”
“Never,” she vowed as she tumbled down onto his lap, her hair plastered to her face as tears clogged her eyes.
Zac shouted something at the pilot. The helicopter started to rise. Pandora hammered her fists against Zac’s chest. “Let me out!”
She pushed back her streaming hair. In a blur of horror she stared out the window. Below, Zac’s huge house was retreating, growing smaller. She let out a wail of disbelief, of sheer terror.
“Hush, you are making a scene.”
Pandora realised she was sobbing. “That’s all you can say? You kidnap me, then tell me to be quiet?”
“You’re crying.” His hand smoothed her hair.
“Of course I’m crying.” She twisted her head away from his touch. “I don’t believe you! Who the hell do you think you are?”
But she knew. He was Zac Kyriakos. One of the richest men in the world. So powerful that he could do what he liked with her. No one would stand in his way.
Four
When the descent started, Pandora lifted her face out of her hands and glimpsed the dark bronze disc of the sun glowing in the western sky against a fiery display of clouds. Out of the window she watched the darkening ground rushing up beneath the helicopter with a sense of frozen horror.
They were going to crash.
She was going to die. Panic bit into her and she struggled not to scream, knowing once she started she’d never stop.
Her fingers twisted around the soft, colourful scarf she’d rescued from her handbag and clung to like a talisman during the flight. She closed her eyes, hating the helplessness. And tried not to think about it. Not about what was happening to her now. And certainly not about the twisted metal wreck that burned in her darkest nightmares.
At last the helicopter rocked and settled on the ground. A wave of uncontrollable anger swept her. How dared Zac do this to her?
Grabbing her handbag, she stormed to the door. The instant the pilot opened the door, she shot out, her legs almost collapsing under her as they met solid ground.
“Slow down.” Zac was at her side, his hand under her elbow. She shrugged it off.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped at him.
“You could’ve fallen.”
“I would rather fall than have you touch me.” Head bent to avoid the slowing rotor blades, she didn’t look back as she scurried away. Once safe from the blades, she straightened. The rough fingers of the evening sea wind tugged her hair and the strands whipped across her eyes.
“That’s not what you were saying last night. Then it was Oh, Zac. Yes, Zac! Last night you couldn’t get enough of my touch.”
At the taunting whisper, she turned and glared, brushing the hair out of her face with an impatient hand.
In the dusky light she could see the strange smile twisting his face, adding a cynical edge that caused her temper to flare higher.
“That was last night,” she bit out. “Before I discovered that you’d misled me. Used me. I hate you, you know that? I’ve never said that to anyone in my life before. But I mean it—I really, really hate you.”
The caustic, knowing smile vanished. For a second, stark shock flared in his eyes and he looked shaken by her response. A shadow fell across his face and all emotion leached out, leaving his gloriously sensual features hard and cold.
“Get a hold of yourself, Pandora. You’re starting to sound hysterical.”
The icy tone shook her. He spun away, and to her consternation Pandora watched as he strode across the flat rooftop, his suit jacket flapping in the wind. Anguish twisted inside her. How had it come to this? What had happened to the affinity, the sense of rightness between her and Zac?
Had he ever cared about her?
Or had it all been an elaborate charade?
Before they’d left Athens he’d said he was taking her somewhere they could talk. A quick look around the castellated parapets, sheer, steep white walls that ended on a slab of black rocks licked by the lazy sea far below revealed this was not quite the kind of venue she’d had in mind. Jeez, not even Rapunzel would’ve gotten out of here. Where on earth were they?
All she knew was that this godforsaken place was where Zac intended to have their showdown. She set her jaw and vowed not to let him walk all over her. She had some stuff to say to him, too. Her stomach turned over just thinking about that. But what choice did she have? Straight talk was all that was left.
And then she’d be off home to New Zealand on the very next flight. And Zac Kyriakos, his handsome face, gorgeous body and immense wealth could go to hell. She wasn’t staying married to a man who didn’t love her.
Ahead, Zac disappeared through an arch into the castle. Or eyrie. Or whatever this whitewashed structure was. Pandora was annoyed to find herself scurrying in his wake. She paused in the shadows at the top of a set of stone stairs that spiralled down into the heart of some kind of tower where wall sconces lit the whitewashed walls. Zac was already two levels down, his footfalls ringing against the hard stone.
“What about my luggage?” she called down.
“Georgios will attend to it,” Zac tossed over his shoulder without slowing his pace.
“I hate you.”
The staccato beat of his shoes against the stairs drummed the horrible words into a crazy kind of rhythm inside Zac’s head and left him reeling.
I hate you. I hate you. The echo grew louder and louder until he wanted to bang his forehead against the curving walls of the tower that surrounded him and watch the stone to crumble into dust … the way his dreams had.
But he couldn’t. He was Zac Kyriakos. That kind of behaviour did not become him. So he squared his shoulders like the man he was, the man he’d been born and raised to be, and tried to convince himself that it wasn’t relief that coursed through him when at