Such thoughts were far too dangerous to her peace of mind.
What peace of mind? She hadn’t known any such thing since that night, when Theo Antonakos had come into her life like a nuclear explosion. And now she was struggling to deal with the devastation that was the aftermath.
‘Of course. You go and change. Shall I make some coffee?’
‘You really do want to make sure that I have no chance at all of sleeping tonight, don’t you? No coffee. And no wine. Seems to me I’m going to need a clear head for this. There’s some mineral water in the fridge. Glasses in the cupboard above it.’
He had disappeared in the direction of the bedroom by the time that any of his comments really registered on Skye’s already jumbled brain.
You really do want to make sure that I have no chance at all of sleeping tonight, don’t you?
Had he meant that, like her, he had been lying awake, unable to sleep? Was that why he had taken to swimming in the middle of the night?
And if so, then what sort of thoughts had kept him awake and restless?
Don’t go there! she told herself. Don’t risk it!
Because the truth was that she didn’t know which was the greater risk to her mental balance: knowing that Theo had lain awake thinking of her—or knowing that he had not.
She didn’t have time to think, anyway. She had barely found the water and the glasses before Theo was back with her.
He had pulled on a loose navy tee shirt and a pair of jogging trousers. Both items were old and baggy and shouldn’t have been sexy at all. But it didn’t matter what this man wore, he still took her breath away. Perhaps it was because she knew, and remembered so well, just what the body underneath the clothes was like, so that he could have worn an old sack and still have had the impact of a blow to her heart.
She had a nasty little flght with herself to keep her hand from shaking as she filled a glass with the sparkling water and held it out to him. The faint brush of his fingers as he took it from her sent a sensation like an electric shock shooting up her arm and to disguise the betraying reaction she reached for her own glass and gulped down half of it without pausing for breath.
‘So talk.’ Theo had barely touched his own drink before putting the glass back down on the table. He leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest, narrowed eyes focusing tightly on her face. ‘You said you wanted to talk—so talk.’
‘Are you going to say anything?’
Oh, damn, she hadn’t meant it to come out like that. She’d planned on being calm and reasonable. On coming round to the point gradually. Instead she’d just blurted out what was uppermost in her mind without a second’s thought.
‘About what?’
‘Oh, don’t play games! You know very well about what! Are you going to say anything to your father?’
Theo’s dark head went back, resting against the door post, his black, gleaming stare impenetrable and impassive in a coldly inscrutable face.
‘My father…’ he said at last, drawling the words out with a slow deliberation that tightened nerves already close to snapping until she felt she wanted to scream. ‘Why should I tell him anything?’
‘Oh!’
The unexpected answer was such a relief that all the tension left Skye in a sudden rush so that she sagged against the nearest chair like a puppet whose strings had been cut. The release from tension was so great that her head was spinning with it and she was totally unable to think of anything beyond the feeling of elation that rushed through her like a flood tide.
‘Oh, thank you!’ She gasped. ‘Thank you! Thank…’
The words shrivelled on her lips as her vision cleared and she caught the way he was looking at her. She saw the dark frown that drew his black brows together, the cold, assessing glance from those jet eyes, and suddenly knew she had made a terrible mistake.
‘You…’
‘I’m not going to tell my father anything,’ Theo stated icily. ‘I think that’s your responsibility.’
‘What?’
Skye had been swallowing a sip of water as he spoke and she knew a moment of real horror as her throat seemed to close around the drink, threatening to choke her. It was only with a struggle that she managed to regain control, and gulp it down. But even then her voice on the question was shrill and raw, as if her vocal cords were still tightly twisted.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I know you heard what I said.’
Theo levered himself away from the wall and moved into the adjoining sitting room, flinging himself down into a chair and leaning back, stretching out long legs on the wooden floor in front of him.
‘And I’m damn sure you understood it. So why ask for an explanation? You know this is what you have to do.’
‘But—yes, of course I understand, but…’
Theo’s sigh was a masterpiece—a perfect blend of irritation, impatience and a ruthless control and his eyes were cold as ice floes as he turned them on her.
‘You weren’t thinking of doing anything else?’
‘But I can’t!’
Nightmare visions of the disastrous consequences that would follow if she did as Theo expected filled Skye’s thoughts, leaving her shaking and fighting back tears.
Her whole world would fall apart. No, there would be no world for her if that was to happen. Her family would be destroyed—her father in prison…her mother…
‘I won’t do it! I can’t!’
‘You don’t have any alternative,’ Theo stated with unyielding brutality. ‘Either you tell him or I do.’
Skye closed her eyes against the fear that crawled along her spine. He didn’t know what he was asking. But she couldn’t tell him. She had given her word to Cyril that she would never reveal to anyone the real reason for their marriage, and if she broke it then her father would be in trouble—but her mother would be the one who would suffer.
‘Please don’t do this,’ she whispered. ‘Please.’
‘So what would you prefer I did?’ Theo enquired with dark cynicism. ‘Let my father live a lie—and live one myself by watching him marry you? Dance at your wedding?’
The acid on the words was so savage she felt it would strip the skin from her bones. She wanted to run—to take to her heels and flee, never looking back. But the time for that was long gone; if, indeed, she had ever had a chance. She only had one hope of salvaging anything for her family from this; though even that was impossible if Theo carried out his threat.
‘I’m not asking that.’
Putting down her glass with a hand that shook so much she barely avoided dropping it right onto the wooden floor, she moved to his side, perching herself on the arm of the chair and looking deep into his dark, closed face.
‘But please don’t do this, Theo.’
Something flickered in the blackness of his eyes but, whatever it was, it was definitely not a sign of any weakening or even any concession.
Instead, he regarded her with his face still set in that cold, stony expression, rejection of her plea radiating from him like a force. Talking to him was like banging her head hard against a rough, unyielding wall. It hurt—and it was clearly having very little effect.
But she still had to try.
‘I’m begging you.’
Impulsively she reached forward, grabbed at both his