the sight of him with his shirt unfastened and his zip in definite danger of slipping open again.
‘I think we are,’ she retorted, and this time when she headed for the door he didn’t try to stop her.
‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ he said, and, although Jane badly wanted to deny this, she was a guest in his father’s house and the decision wasn’t hers to make.
Shaking her head, she let herself out of the door, praying that she’d be allowed to go to her room without meeting either Ariadne or Ianthe or some member of Demetri’s family. She wanted to be alone, she wanted time to think, and most of all she wanted to escape this awful predicament she’d created for herself.
But that wasn’t going to happen. And the idea of not having the baby was as painful to her as leaving the island was going to be. But she had to leave. And soon. Before she did something totally outrageous like telling Demetri she was going to have his baby. Ironically enough, it would have been easier to tell him she still loved him than that.
She caught her breath. Was that true? Could she have been foolish enough to fall in love with him all over again? Because whatever happened, Demetri was never going to believe she hadn’t got pregnant deliberately, and did she really want a relationship based on that suspicion?
No, she had to leave here. Even if Demetri was prepared to believe her, there would always be the spectre of Ianthe’s baby in the background. And he had a new relationship now, with Ariadne. She didn’t have the right to disrupt his life again.
Even if he had disrupted hers…
She had reached the stairs when someone called her name. At first she thought it might be Demetri and she continued on her way. But then she realised that once again the voice had been too mild to be her husband’s and, glancing back, she saw Leo leaning heavily on the banister below.
She halted immediately, supremely conscious that she was flushed and out of breath. But then, with a gesture of defeat, she came down the stairs again, hoping that the lowering sun would cast her face in shadow.
‘I was just going to change,’ she said when he didn’t speak again, and Leo inclined his head.
‘Ariadne told me that Demetri was with you,’ he said at last. ‘I hope he hasn’t upset you again.’
Upset!
Jane felt a sob of hysteria rise in her throat and quickly fought it down. ‘It—he just wanted to ask me if I’d received the divorce papers,’ she said, which was true. Then, moistening her lips, she added, ‘I’m glad I’ve got this opportunity to speak to you, actually, Leo. I think it’s time I went back to England.’
Demetri’s father frowned. ‘You do?’
‘Yes.’ Jane swallowed. ‘Now that Demetri’s back—’
‘So he has been intimidating you—’
‘No.’ Jane couldn’t allow him to think that. ‘It’s just—well, I’m in the way here.’
‘You’re not in my way, Jane.’
‘No, but you know what I’m saying.’ Jane sighed. ‘It’s been wonderful seeing you again, Leo, but I don’t belong here any more.’
Leo sighed. ‘Well, if that’s your decision…’
‘It is.’ And then, seeing his disappointment, Jane came right down the stairs to give him an impulsive hug. ‘You know I don’t want to leave you—’
‘Then why do so?’
‘I just have to,’ she insisted, drawing back. ‘Please say you understand.’
Leo shook his head. ‘I assume you’ve told Demetri.’
‘Um—not yet, no.’
‘Don’t you think he’ll have something to say about it?’
‘Perhaps.’ Jane sighed. And then, because telling Demetri was something she couldn’t face right now, she added, ‘Would you do that, Leo? Tell him, I mean? But not—not before dinner, if you don’t mind.’
Leo looked troubled. ‘Are you afraid of him, Jane?’
‘No.’ Jane stifled a groan. ‘I just—don’t want any fuss,’ she murmured awkwardly. ‘And now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go and have a shower before we eat.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
TO DEMETRI’S relief, Thermia wasn’t joining them for dinner. Only his parents, Stefan and Ariadne were waiting in the orangery when he arrived, and, although he wanted to ask where Jane was, in the circumstances he decided discretion was the better part of valour.
To begin with, his father detained him in conversation about the conference he’d been attending, but as soon as the old man paused to speak to Demetri’s mother, Ariadne took his place.
‘What on earth took you so long this afternoon?’ she exclaimed. ‘You and that woman were in the library for ages. I was forced to entertain your mother and your aunt, and believe me that wasn’t easy.’
‘Thermia’s not my aunt,’ said Demetri evenly. ‘Did Ianthe come back?’
‘No.’ Ariadne showed her displeasure. ‘Did you expect she would?’
‘I hoped she wouldn’t,’ retorted Demetri tersely. ‘Ianthe and I have nothing to say to one another.’
Ariadne looked pleased at this. ‘I notice your wife didn’t take kindly to seeing the two of you together,’ she commented. ‘I suppose it brings back too many unhappy memories, hmm?’
Demetri found it difficult to conceal his resentment now. ‘What unhappy memories?’ he demanded. ‘Jane hardly knows Ianthe.’
‘No.’ Ariadne shrugged. ‘But seeing Ianthe must remind her of how close the two of you used to be.’
‘Jane and me?’
‘No.’ Ariadne clicked her tongue. ‘You and Ianthe. Come on, Demetri. I know the child she had was yours.’
‘You don’t know anything of the kind.’ Demetri spoke through his teeth. ‘In any case, I’d prefer not to talk about it. To you or anyone else.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Ariadne’s dark brows lifted in amusement. ‘That’s what you and Jane were arguing about, was it?’ She gave a snort of satisfaction. ‘I can imagine how pleasant that would be.’
Demetri was tempted to say she didn’t know what she was talking about, but it was easier to let her believe that he and Jane had been arguing rather than have her speculate on what else they might have been doing. Theos, he thought incredulously. Had he really made love to Jane in full view of the library windows? What did she do to him to make him care so little about who might see them? And when was this mad infatuation going to end?
‘Your mother will be glad to see the back of her,’ Ariadne was continuing, unaware that she no longer had his undivided attention. ‘And I think even Leo is beginning to wish he’d never invited her here.’
Demetri doubted that. Remembering the way his father had treated Jane that afternoon, he’d been left in no doubt that the old man was very fond of her. Too fond, perhaps, if he expected his son to divorce her and marry someone else.
A twinge of awareness made him turn towards the door just in time to see his father going to greet the woman in question. This evening Jane was wearing narrow-legged silk trousers and a wide-necked silk sweater, both in black, that accentuated the intense fairness of her skin.
The sweater had been designed to slip off one or both shoulders, revealing that its owner wasn’t wearing a bra. And Demetri found himself remembering the paleness of her breasts against his hands, the rosy peaks that had tasted so sweet just a couple of hours ago…
The