The Ruthless Greek's Return. Sharon Kendrick

cold smile—as if he knew exactly what was running through her mind.

      ‘Yes,’ he said softly. ‘I still want you, Jessica. I didn’t realise quite how much until I saw you today. And you’d better understand that these days I get everything I want. So I’ll give you time to reconsider your decision, but I’m warning you that my patience is not infinite. And I won’t wait long.’

      ‘Don’t hold your breath,’ she said, meeting his eyes with a defiant look which lasted only as long as it took her to walk out of his office, her heart pounding as she headed for the elevator.

      He didn’t follow her. Had she really thought he would? Had there been a trace of the old Jessica who thought he might rise to his feet and cover the distance between them with a few purposeful strides, just like in the old days? Yes, there had. And wasn’t part of her still craving that kind of masterful behaviour? Of course it was. What woman could remain immune to all that brooding power, coupled with the steely new patina which his wealth had given him?

      She shook her head as she left the building, realising that Suzy had been right. He was dangerous and the way he made her feel was more dangerous still. Far better that she walked away now and left him in the past, where he belonged.

      Hurrying through the emerging rush hour, she caught the train to Cornwall with seconds to spare, but the usually breathtaking journey was shrouded in darkness. The January evening was cold and rain lashed against the carriage windows, seeming to echo her gloomy mood.

      She leant her head back against the seat, wondering if she was crazy to have turned her back on a job which had been her security for so long. Yet surely she’d be crazier still to put herself in a situation where Loukas held all the power.

      Her love for him might have been replaced by a mixture of anger and frustration—but she was far from immune to him. She couldn’t deny the sharp kick of desire when she looked at him, or her squirming sense of frustration. And if that frustration had been unexpectedly powerful, was that really so surprising? Because there had been nobody else since Loukas. No other lover in eight long years. He had been her first man and the only man. Wasn’t that ridiculous? And unfashionable? He’d accused her of being stuck in a rut, but he didn’t know the half of it.

      Because nobody had come close to making her feel the way Loukas had done. She’d tried to have relationships with other men but they had left her feeling cold. She stared out of the window as the train pulled into the darkness of a rain-lashed Bodmin station. Other men had made her feel nothing, while her Greek lover had made her feel everything.

      Just under an hour later and she was home. But the sight of the little Atlantic-facing house which usually filled her with feelings of sanctuary tonight did no such thing. Rods of rain hit her like icy arrows as she got out of the taxi. The crash of the ocean was deafening but for once she took no pleasure from it. Tonight the sound seemed lonely and haunting and full of foreboding.

      And of course, the house was empty. She seemed to rattle around in it without the noisy presence of her half-sister. Jessica listened to the unusual sound of silence as the front door slammed closed behind her. She missed Hannah. Missed her a lot. Yet who would have thought it? It certainly hadn’t been sunshine and laughter when Jessica’s father had split from her mother, to marry his long-term mistress who was already pregnant with his daughter, Hannah.

      Jessica had been badly hurt by her parents’ bitter divorce and the news that she was going to have a stepmother and a brand-new baby sister had filled her with jealousy and dread. There had been plenty of tensions in their ‘blended’ family, but somehow they had survived—even when Jessica’s mum had died soon after and the villagers had whispered that she’d never got over her broken heart. Jessica had tried to form a good relationship with her stepmother and to improve the one she had with her perfectionist father. Until that terrible day when an avalanche had left both girls orphaned and alone.

      After that, it had been a case of sink, or swim. They’d had to get along, because there had been no alternative. Jessica had been eighteen and Hannah just ten when the policeman had knocked on the door with that terrible expression on his face. The authorities had wanted to take Hannah into care but Jessica had fought hard to adopt her. But worse was to come when Jessica realised that her father had been living a lie—spending money on the back of her future earnings, which were never going to materialise. The lawyers had sat her down and told her that their affluent lifestyle had been nothing but an illusion, funded by money they didn’t have.

      She’d been at her wits’ end, wondering how she could support herself and Hannah, because there was precious little left after the big house had been sold. That was why the Lulu job had been such a lifesaver. It had given her money to pay the bills, yes, but, more preciously, it had given her the time to try to mother her heartbroken half-sister in a way that a regular job could never have done.

      She had learnt to cook and had planted vegetables. And even though the plants hadn’t done very well in the salty and wind-lashed Cornish garden, just the act of nurturing something had brought the two sisters closer together. She had attended every single school open evening and had always been there for Hannah, no matter what. She’d tried not to freak out when the young teenager was discovered smoking dope at a party, telling her that everyone was allowed one mistake. She’d stayed calm the year Hannah had flunked all her exams because of some school bad-boy who’d been giving her the runaround. Instead, she had quietly emphasised the importance of learning and told her how much she regretted her own patchy education—all sacrificed in the name of tennis. And somehow love had grown out of a relationship which had begun so badly.

      Jessica had cried when she’d seen Hannah off at Heathrow Airport just before Christmas, with that ridiculously bulky rucksack dwarfing her slender frame, but she had waited until the plane had taken off before she had allowed the tears to fall. Not just because she kept her emotions hidden as a matter of habit, but because she knew this was how it was supposed to be. She knew that saying goodbye was part of life.

      And today she’d said goodbye to a part-time modelling career which had never been intended to last. She’d had a good run for her money but now it was time to try something new.

      Jessica bit her lip as the rain beat down against the window and tried to block out the memories of Loukas’s mocking face. She would think of something.

      She had to.