But if she were to leave Cyril…
‘It isn’t over between us and you know it.’
‘It is!’ It was a cry of panic, of desperation. ‘It is over! It has to be—I’m marrying your father!’
‘Then don’t!’
There, it was out. Theo told himself. The thing that had been preying on his thoughts all day, every day since the moment he had realised just who she was and why she was here on Helikos. The words that he had been trying not to say, words he had sworn that he would never say, but even as he had done so he had known that he would inevitably one day. He would have to.
For days he’d fought with himself. Fought to stay away from her. Fought the need to be with her. He had set himself to a gruelling regime of exercise, running on the seashore, swimming endless laps of the pool, lifting weights in the small gym his father had had built but had very obviously never used. It had kept him out of her way and it had exhausted his body, but his mind had stayed wide awake.
And at night, in the darkness, the memories had come.
Heated memories of the night they had spent together. The one night when he had known all the sweetness and the passion that her glorious body could offer.
And he had known he wanted more.
The sweetness he wanted to taste all over again. The passion he longed to sate himself on once more.
He had barely managed to cope with the past two days as it was. He had only kept himself from giving in to the magnetic pull her body had for his by telling himself over and over again that she wasn’t available, that she was en-gaged—to his father, for God’s sake!
She was not only not available, she was forbidden!
But even knowing that, he had endured two nights without sleep. Spent two long days fighting the need to see her. Fighting his body’s need to bury himself in her again.
He knew now that that was why he had been so insistent that she tell his father about the night they had spent together. He didn’t just want the truth out in the open; he wanted her free from this impossible engagement.
He wanted her all to himself. And he felt he would go mad if he didn’t have her.
‘Don’t marry my father. You can’t marry him feeling the way you do about—’
‘About you?’ Skye inserted swiftly, jerkily. ‘I don’t feel anything for you!’
‘But you do.’ Theo dismissed her protest with a contemptuous flick of his hand. ‘You feel just the way I do—I can see it in your face. In your eyes whenever I’m near.’
‘You arrogant…’
The negligent shrug of broad shoulders under the white tee shirt showed how little he cared about her accusation.
‘I may be arrogant, but at least I’m honest.’
Deliberately he took a slow step forward, then another, his eyes fixed on her face, watching every flicker of reaction that she was unable to hide. He saw the way her head went back, the sudden change in her breathing, the darkness of her eyes.
‘See?’ was all he said, but he knew she’d got the message. Ruthlessly he pressed home his advantage. ‘Damn you, Skye, think about this—about what will happen when my father finds out…’
‘Why should he find out?’
Her voice had changed again and there was a note in it now that he couldn’t even begin to read. He didn’t know what to feel either. His emotions seemed to be running on a loop of anger, through concern, exasperation, and an irrational, overwhelming desire to grab her, haul her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Kissing seemed to be the only function of that soft, sexy mouth that was simple, uncom-plicated—and totally understandable.
Oh, who was he trying to kid? Kissing her might start out as the most straightforward thing in this whole tangle of knots that simply being with Skye tied him up in, but it would very rapidly turn into the most complex and problematical situation before he had time to breathe. He couldn’t kiss Skye while she was with his father; and, for her own personal, private reasons, she seemed determined to try to hold fast to this appalling engagement.
‘I can’t believe you’re asking me that question.’
‘I could pretend—’
‘Oh, hell, yes, you could!’
Theo couldn’t hold back the cynical laughter that escaped him at the thought.
‘You could pretend, all right—but if you wanted to be convincing you’d have to turn in a performance that’s a damn sight better than the one you’re giving me!’
He’d actually silenced her. For the first time since he’d come into the room and found her sitting on the chair with her head in her hands, she was finally stunned into silence, staring up at him, her face frozen in shock.
‘There’s something else, isn’t there? Something you’re not telling me. Damnation, Skye, just what is going on here?’
Her eyes flinched away from his, dropping down to stare at the carpet with an impossibly fierce concentration.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Don’t give me that!’
Dropping to one knee in front of her, he caught her chin in his hand, pushing it up so that she was forced to meet his gaze. When she tried to pull away he simply clamped his fingers more tightly around her jaw and drew her back inexorably to face him.
‘Tell me!’ he commanded. ‘I want to know just why you are so determined to marry my father.’
CHAPTER NINE
HOW could she ever answer that? Skye asked herself. She was trapped, no matter which way she turned. Tied by so many different promises to so many people, and knowing she had no way out. There was the promise she had made to her father—others to Cyril…
But the one promise that truly mattered to her was the one that she had made in her heart to her mother. Claire Marston knew nothing of the real reasons why her daughter was suddenly going to marry a much older Greek millionaire; she would have been horrified if she did. But in her heart Skye had promised that she would do anything—everything—she could to ensure that her mother had the health and strength to enjoy as much of life as she could. And if that meant giving up some of her own life, her own happiness, in return, then she believed it was worth it.
So now she had only one choice open to her, one path she could possibly follow.
And she took it.
‘Why?’ she echoed with what she hoped was a deceptively lightweight and flippant air. She had started on this coldly casual act to protect herself; she couldn’t afford to let it slip now. ‘Isn’t it obvious? Because he asked me.’
Once again, Theo’s response surprised her. She had expected anger. She had expected contempt. She had expected that he would simply toss her aside—mentally at least—and just walk out. So she was stunned when he shook his head in total rejection of what she was saying.
‘Not good enough,’ he stated with a cold finality.
His absolute calmness was somehow more disturbing than if he had lost his temper and shouted at her. A sudden, scary feeling that she was fighting for her life pushed her towards an even more outrageous declaration.
‘You don’t think that’s good enough? Why ever not?’
Her pause was supposed to give him time to respond, but he didn’t take it. Instead, he seemed to be waiting for her to speak again.
But what could she say? If he only knew it, she had spoken the exact truth when she had given him her answer. Cyril had offered marriage as a way out of the appalling problems