features with strained green eyes.
‘Such information is always available for a favour or a price.’
To Maddie, that was yet another unsavoury glimpse of a world and a way of thought foreign to her principles. ‘Look, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t see you tonight,’ she told him hurriedly, keen to bring the conversation to a swift conclusion.
‘How so?’ he incised, level dark golden eyes pinned to her with questioning force.
There was no apology in Maddie’s quiet voice as she explained that she had agreed to sit with her elderly neighbour so that the lady’s daughter, who looked after her mother full-time, could enjoy a rare evening out.
‘How praiseworthy, glikia mou.’ A wry smile of approval curved his wide stubborn mouth. ‘Naturally I’ll organise a qualified carer to stand in for you.’
‘No, you can’t do that. I never said I would see you tonight, and even if I did want to—which I don’t—I wouldn’t consider letting my friends down at the last minute,’ Maddie declared, her chin coming up at a pugnacious angle because she was indignant at his assumption that she would rearrange her life and her responsibilities to suit him.
But she was even more appalled by her spasm of disappointment that it was not possible for her to consider his offer of providing another companion for her neighbour. She no longer knew what she wanted any more.
Giannis released his breath in a slow, sardonic exhalation. ‘Why do you make such a fuss about trivia?’
Maddie was very tense. ‘When I make a promise to someone it’s not trivial. Mrs Evans would be upset if she was left with a stranger. You are being selfish.’
‘Do not insult me again. I will not tolerate it!’ the tall, powerful Greek interposed, with cold, cutting emphasis.
Maddie paled and focused on the beautiful roses she had arranged in a utilitarian plastic bowl. Her emotions were all over the place and her eyes were suddenly stinging like mad. ‘We’re oil and water—’
‘Between the sheets we’re dynamite.’
A red-hot blush crept up her slender throat and she could not trust herself to look at him. ‘You’ll have to leave. I have to go down to Mrs Evans.’
‘Is this a joke? Or are you wondering how far you can push me?’ Giannis demanded with hauteur. ‘I leave London again tomorrow.’
Reluctantly she lifted her head again, and collided with hot, dark golden eyes that made her tummy lurch as if she had gone down in a lift too fast. ‘It’s not a joke.’
With languorous cool he let his fingers feather through her long, rippling coppery curls. The faint brush of his fingertips against her taut temples sent a quiver through her, and a feeling of sensual paralysis swallowed up all her good intentions. He brought his darkly handsome head down, and her hand seemed to rise of its own volition to glance across one smooth olive cheek and move into the luxuriant thickness of his black hair. It was all the encouragement he needed. He took her mouth in a storm of passionate hunger and pinned her back against the wall with his lithe, powerful body.
‘So what’s this?’ he enquired lethally.
‘Madness,’ she mumbled, stretching up on tiptoe to find the heat and hardness of his mouth again in a fruitless attempt to assuage the painful ache low in her belly.
He sank his hands below her curvaceous behind and lifted her, cradling her easily on his lap as he seated himself on the bed. ‘How long have you got?’ he intoned thickly.
She felt surrounded and controlled by him, and it was incredibly sexy. Her bra was tight over her full breasts, the tender nipples swollen and sensitive. While her body felt weak, her heart was racing with anticipation. She pressed her hot brow against a broad shoulder and wondered frantically what was happening to her. She fought to rescue her self-control. Giannis would take her back to bed if she allowed him to. Was she really that besotted with him?
Maddie was shaken by that inner question, and in a sudden movement of denial scrambled off his long, lean thighs with more haste than grace. ‘We mustn’t…No, absolutely not. Not unless we get to know each other better…’ Her voice petered out as a wave of giddiness momentarily left her head swimming.
Giannis sprang upright in an equally abrupt movement, and swung away to stand by the window. He was fully aroused, hotter than hot. Rampant sexual frustration laced the raw sense of disbelief that held him taut. He was not accustomed to suffering that particular discomfort. He could not remember when a woman had last said no to him. The intensity of his desire for her infuriated him. And now she was laying down pre-conditions. Unexpectedly, the fresh taste of that challenge stimulated him. She had backbone and standards. He liked that.
Maddie braced her hand on the table to steady herself. Raw panic threatened to eat her alive because she had never felt so dizzy before. Dizziness was not something she suffered from, so what was causing it? Oh, dear heaven—was it possible that she could be pregnant? How likely was it that she would get symptoms so soon? She scolded herself for overreacting, but the fear she had kept below the surface of her mind for the past few days was now out in the open. Unfortunately it would be another week before she could put that fear to rest.
‘I’ll be in Morocco mid-week. I have a house in the High Atlas mountains. It’s very private and peaceful,’ Giannis advanced levelly. ‘Why don’t you let me fly you out to join me for a couple of days?’
‘Morocco?’ Maddie was astonished by the invitation.
‘You said you wanted to get to know me, glikia mou.’ Giannis drawled, honey-soft. ‘It would be the perfect opportunity.’
In a decisive movement he set down his personal card on the table. ‘The number of my mobile phone—should you want to contact me.’
AS THE helicopter rose in the air at Marrakech-Menara airport, Maddie closed her eyes tight. Unfortunately that exercise made her feel dizzier than ever, and she lifted her lashes and stared woodenly ahead while she prayed that the last leg of her journey would be brief. Maybe she had a problem with her balance? Or perhaps she wasn’t eating sensibly enough? It would be paranoid for her to assume that she was in the early stages of pregnancy. She reminded herself that in just a couple of days she would be able to stop worrying, because she had very regular menstrual cycle.
Maddie had flown out from London first thing that morning. It was now after midday, and hot. The long-sleeved shirt and cotton trousers she had worn to travel were sticking to her damp skin. The cloudless sky was a glorious deep lilac-blue. In a covert movement she pinched her thigh, in the hope that the tiny pain would help her to believe that she had indeed come to Morocco as the personal guest of a Greek billionaire. So far nothing about the trip had felt real, since it bore no resemblance to her only previous venture abroad—a package tour to Spain with her grandmother.
On this occasion, however, Maddie was travelling in amazing style and comfort. Collected from her bedsit by Nemos, she had been the sole passenger on a private jet with a crew who had been almost embarrassingly eager to ensure that she enjoyed the flight. Having watched a terrific film, she had browsed through the morning papers and enjoyed an appetising breakfast while being waited on hand and foot. On landing she had been whisked through official channels at wondrous speed and escorted to a helipad.
Now the helicopter landed, and the merciless ear-battering whine of the propellers finally stilled. Nemos helped Maddie out with care. Initially engaged in adjusting to walking a straight line on solid ground again, she was unprepared for her first sight of the imposing building in front of her. Its sheer size made her stop dead. Soaring ochre walls decorated with geometric patterns were further embellished with slender tapering towers at each corner. Her eyes were wide with astonishment.
‘It looks like a Moorish palace.’