his sleeping face for fear that even the lightest touch would wake him. That those deep, dark eyes—the eyes she had lost herself in last night—would fly open and look straight into hers. She could almost see the frown that would crease the space between the black, arched brows, hear his softly accented voice demanding to know where she was going.
She couldn’t face that. It would destroy her even to try.
Another day; another time. The words echoed like a lament inside her head.
If they had met another day, another time, then perhaps they might have had a future. She might have been able to—
No!
Fiercely she caught back her wayward thoughts, knowing they would weaken her resolve, tie her already leaden feet to the ground if she let them into her head.
She had to go—now—as fast as she could. Not even troubling to pull on tights over her bare legs, she forced her feet into her shoes, snatched up her jacket and bag, and fied towards the door.
There was a long desperate moment of panic as the handle squeaked, the hinges creaked, but then she was out and easing the door shut, allowing herself only a moment for a gasping sigh of relief before she fled down the carpeted corridor, heading for the lift.
Had she forgotten anything? Left a betraying clue behind?
A desperate check of her belongings confirmed she had everything with her—a fact that should have reassured her, but it didn’t.
Because the truth was that what she had left behind was a vital part of her soul.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘WE’LL be landing in five minutes, sir.’
‘Thank you.’
Theo acknowledged his pilot’s words with a nod. He hadn’t even needed them, really. His own eyes had told him just how close they were getting to Helikos, the small dot in the ocean that was his father’s private island.
The island that had been home to Theo himself, all the time he had been growing up.
Then, when he had been just a boy, and had returned home from the long weeks away at the exclusive English boarding-school he had detested but which his father had been determined would turn him into a gentleman, he had recognised every tiny landmark on the flight from Athens airport. He had almost hung out of the helicopter cockpit to spot each change in the scene beneath them, the dozens of other, tiny, uninhabited islands that marked the familiar route to his beloved family home.
And when Helikos had finally come into view, at first as just a small dot on the horizon, he had always let out a great cheer to celebrate that, at last, for him, the holidays had begun.
But this time there was no excited thudding of his heart, no resounding cheer on his lips. Instead he viewed the approaching coastline with a dour, cynical expression, watching it come nearer with a complicated mix of emotions in his soul. He was heading back to Helikos after an absence of five long years, but the island was no longer truly home to him. The split with his father had seen to that. And now there was the new wife to consider, too.
Theo scowled as the sound of the engine changed subtly, indicating that the pilot was beginning their descent. Another complication he could well do without. Though, from the little information he had had about her, this marriage was clearly not a love match. More like a business deal.
‘I don’t think you’ll find the island much changed.’
It was the pilot again, interrupting his thoughts as his voice came through the earphones both men wore.
‘I doubt if it’s changed in the least.’
Theo kept his eyes on the dark mass of land set in the brilliant sea. He was not in the mood for conversation; in fact he was not in the mood to be here at all. He most definitely was not in the mood for meeting his father’s latest floozy and trying to be polite to her. Cyril Antonakos was not known for choosing the most intelligent of female companions, and unless his father had changed dramatically in the past five years, then tonight’s dinner when he was to meet the brand-new Antonakos bride-to-be was going to be a long endurance test.
All the more so because his mind would be anywhere but here on Helikos.
From the moment that he had woken to find the space in the bed beside him cold, the room empty, he hadn’t been able to get the mysterious Skye out of his thoughts. He had spent the last week hunting for traces of the woman who had shared that one amazing night with him, but, with so little to go on, he had had a frustrating lack of success. He would do better, he knew, to forget the whole thing and put her out of his mind.
But in one brief night she had got completely under his skin and he couldn’t forget about her. Even when he slept, his dreams were filled with hot, erotic images of the night they had spent together. He would dream that he held her close, her slender, smooth-skinned limbs entangled with his, her Titian hair spread across the pillows, over his face, her perfume driving him wild.
And then he’d wake with his heart racing, his breath coming in raw, uneven gasps, his body slicked with sweat as if he had actually been making love to her in reality and not just in his mind. But of course none of it was real—none of it except the burning ache in his groin, the throb of unappeased hunger through every nerve.
If he could, he would have made some excuse and not come here. But the division between him and his father had gone on quite long enough. If Cyril was prepared to offer an olive branch, however half-hearted, then he, Theo, would meet him more than part way.
The house was just as he remembered it. High on a cliff above the sea, the huge white building sprawled over a large plot of land on two levels, each with its own vast veranda giving an amazing view of the ocean. A wide arched gateway to one side led to a stone-flagged patio, the oval swimming pool, and a small pool house that doubled as a guest house.
As Theo approached the door was pulled open and a small, plump, dark-haired figure hurried towards him.
‘Master Theo! Welcome! It’s wonderful to have you back!’
‘Amalthea…’
Theo submitted to the exuberant embrace of the tiny woman who had been his nurse as he grew up, and, because his mother had died when he was small, the closest person to a mother he had ever known.
‘Where am I staying? Have you put me in my old room?’
Amalthea’s dark eyes clouded as she shook her greying head.
‘Your father told me to put you in the pool house.’
So the olive branch was not quite as definite as he had thought, Theo told himself with a twist of sardonic resignation. His father was a hard man to like—a difficult man to love. He took offence easily and held onto grudges for a long, long time. It seemed that being invited here for the old man’s wedding was only the start of things. There wasn’t any sign of the fatted calf being prepared for the return of the prodigal son.
‘Who’s in my room?’
Surely the guests hadn’t started to arrive just yet? The wedding wasn’t taking place until the end of the month.
‘The new Kyria Antonakos.’
‘My father’s fiancée?’
So his father and the bride-to-be didn’t share a room already. That was a surprise.
‘What’s she like?’
Amalthea rolled her eyes in an expression of disapproval that she could only get away with in front of Theo.
‘Not at all his usual sort. But she is very beautiful.’
‘They’re always beautiful,’ Theo commented cynically. ‘That’s why he chooses them. Is my father at home now?’
‘He had to go to the village,’ Amalthea told him. ‘But he’ll be back this evening