ever for her to cross what he knew from previous experience was the sitting room and cover the short distance between there and the front door. But finally she opened the door, albeit reluctantly, hanging onto the handle as if she had no intention of letting him inside.
‘Hi.’ Milos managed to eject a cheerful inconsequence into his voice. ‘Remember me?’
Helen’s lips tightened. ‘Of course.’
She was still wearing the faded jeans, this time teamed with a white tee shirt. Milos had to drag his eyes away from the pert nipples clearly etched against the cloth, reminding himself severely of why he was here.
‘You’re not at college today,’ he said inanely, and she cast him a pitying look.
‘Obviously not,’ she said, proving she wasn’t intimidated. ‘What do you want, Mr Stephanides? I’ve got a lot of revision to do.’
‘May I come in?’
That wasn’t what he’d intended to say and he wasn’t surprised when she shook her head. ‘My mother’s not here,’ she said. ‘She works half-days at the supermarket. If you come back about half past two, she should be home by then.’
Milos put out a hand to support himself on the wall beside the door, brows arching when she drew back in alarm. But, ‘It’s you I came to see, Helen,’ he said, ignoring her reaction. ‘Your father wanted me to talk to you. He’d very much like for you to forgive him.’
‘I bet he would.’ Her words echoed her mother’s bitterness, but he sensed there was a reluctance in the sharp denial. ‘My father doesn’t care about me. He only cares about his new wife. He severed any hope of us being a family when he walked out on us.’
Milos sighed. ‘He walked out on your mother; not on you.’
‘And you think that excuses him?’
‘No—’
‘Because I have to tell you, I think what he did was pretty damn rotten.’
‘I agree.’ Milos didn’t know all the ins and outs of the story, but he could see that from this girl’s point of view her father’s behaviour did seem unforgivable. ‘But that doesn’t alter your relationship to him. He’s still your father. He still loves you.’
‘Yeah, right.’
‘He does. And, you know, he has tried to get in touch with you, but your mother has blocked him every time.’
Helen pursed her lips. ‘So this is your real agenda, is it? To persuade me that he’s not the villain I imagined him to be?’
Milos hesitated. If he said yes and she threw him out, he’d have lost any advantage he’d gained by coming here. On the other hand, if he said no, what other excuse could he offer for this visit? He was attracted to her, sure, but he couldn’t tell her that. She was far too young for him.
Wasn’t she?
Sighing, he said, ‘I’ve told you, I’m on holiday.’ He was actually on business, but he didn’t think that would win him any favours. ‘Your father suggested looking you up. Where’s the harm in that? I’ve told you, he wants to mend bridges. If that’s impossible, then so be it.’
‘It is.’
She was adamant, her soft cheeks flushed with hectic colour. He found himself wanting to touch her skin, to run his fingertips over her warm flesh. She was so sure, so strong, yet so unconsciously vulnerable, he was entranced by her innocence. She had no idea what she was doing to him as she stood so defiantly in the doorway.
A less—arrogant man, he decided, would back off at this point, but he didn’t. Milos told himself he still believed he could change her mind in time, but that wasn’t the real reason he wanted to see her again. She enchanted him; she intrigued him. He told himself he just wanted to see her smile—at him.
‘Poli kala,’ he said ruefully. ‘I tried.’ He glanced up and down the street as if preparing to leave and then came to what would prove to be a fatal decision. ‘Look, I understand you have work to do right now, but won’t you at least let me buy you a drink this evening?’
‘Milos?’
Helen was speaking to him and he realised that for a few minutes he’d completely lost the plot. The memories of his trip to England were both vivid and painful, and it was hard to separate the present and the past.
CHAPTER NINE
‘ARE you all right?’
Helen had taken a step closer, but when Milos’s eyes focussed on hers she beat a hasty retreat. He realised she had been concerned about him and guessed, for a couple of minutes there, he hadn’t heard a word she’d said.
‘Mia khara. I’m fine,’ he said swiftly, raking back his hair and feeling the dampness on his forehead. Theos, he must not let her get him rattled. His equilibrium was in danger of being shattered, particularly when his eyes were drawn to the dusky hollow between her breasts.
Trying to remember how he’d planned to deal with this, he said tersely, ‘You didn’t contact me again after you left the hotel.’
Helen’s eyes widened and he didn’t blame her. That was not something he’d planned to say. Nevertheless, he resented the fact that those dark-fringed violet eyes looked as innocent as if she had nothing on her conscience. She must suspect what he was thinking, he thought tensely. However she tried to play this, he hadn’t got it wrong.
But, ‘Contact you?’ she echoed, as if the thought had never occurred to her. ‘Why would I want to do that?’
‘It’s what men and women usually do after they’ve been to bed together,’ he snapped irritably, his temper rekindling. ‘Don’t pretend—don’t pretend what happened between us meant nothing to you. Or are you going to try and tell me it wasn’t the first time you’d made love?’
Helen quivered. It was the first indication he’d touched a nerve and he waited expectantly for her response. ‘I’d be foolish to do that,’ she said at last, breathing deeply. ‘But you were married. Did you expect me not to care?’
A pulse began to throb in Milos’s temple. ‘I have told you,’ he said tightly. ‘I was already separated from my wife when I made the trip to England.’ He paused. ‘But that reminds me of something you said earlier: when exactly did you speak to Eleni? I’d be interested to hear.’
Helen caught her lower lip between her teeth and Milos was beginning to wonder if she’d made the whole thing up when she spoke again. ‘She phoned the hotel,’ she said, totally confounding him, and he could only stare at her in disbelief.
‘What hotel?’
‘Well, duh.’ She imitated Melissa’s laconic way of mocking him. ‘How many hotels did you stay at?’
Milos blinked. ‘You mean the hotel where we—’
‘Where you seduced me?’ She flashed him a bitter smile. ‘Yeah, that’d be right.’
‘But how could she?’ Milos couldn’t take it in. ‘She didn’t know where I was staying.’
‘Then someone must have told her,’ said Helen practically. ‘I don’t suppose it was a secret, was it?’
Milos shook his head. ‘When?’ he asked, ignoring her question. ‘When did she phone?’
‘Can’t you guess?’ Helen’s voice was flat now. ‘You may remember, you’d gone into the bathroom to—to get rid of the evidence. She was very surprised when I answered your phone.’
‘And what did you tell her?’
‘Well, I didn’t expose your dirty little secret,’ said Helen with a grimace. ‘Though I imagine she had her suspicions. Was that why you got a divorce?’
Milos’s