The Greek's Forbidden Bride Read online

  Abby had managed to close her mouth but her eyes were wide with disbelief as her brain sluggishly registered what he was saying. Gone was all pretence of politeness. Here was the fist of steel inside the velvet glove. There was not the slightest twinge of discomfort in the icy black eyes that were riveted to her face.

  ‘You can’t tell me who I can or can’t marry,’ was all she could find to say.

  ‘I can when it affects my family. Beyond that I really don’t care who you marry or what you do with your life.’ He saw her soft mouth tremble and steeled himself against feeling like a pig because he had phrased his observation in the way that he had. She had had a weird, dysfunctional childhood but there was no way that she could still be sensitive to the passing remarks of strangers. It was all an act, he told himself, and the most appropriate way of dealing with it was to ignore it.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this,’ Abby whispered.

  ‘Of course you can,’ Theo returned briskly. ‘You must also have known that you’d come up against some resistance somewhere along the line. The thing I want to establish is how much it’s worth to you to drop the engagement.’

  He had originally thought that he could get to her, needle her somehow into dropping her cover, somehow force her hand so that Michael could see for himself the sort of woman that she was. Not to be.

  ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying.’ She shook her head in mute bewilderment even though she was already translating what he was saying insofar as it pertained to her.

  Theo sighed. ‘I’ve watched you with my brother. I have to admit I haven’t noticed any passion there, but it’s obvious that you two have some sort of friendly bond. I’m a fair man…’

  ‘You? Fair?’ A bubble of hysterical laughter began and died in her throat.

  ‘Which is why,’ Theo carried on as if she had not interrupted, ‘I’m prepared to pay you handsomely for breaking off this engagement. I don’t really care how you set about doing that but I’m sure you’ll be able to think of something. You strike me as a very creative type of woman. It’s a solution that works for all concerned. I go away safe in the knowledge that I’m sparing my brother a lifetime of disillusionment when you decide to divorce him at a later date. I’m giving you the option of maintaining a friendship with Michael until such time as you can gradually drift out of his life, and you get something for your co-operation. Face it, whichever way you look at it, I’m being staggeringly generous.’

  The blood rushed to Abby’s face in a wave of furious colour. She could feel every nerve in her body throbbing as she leaned forward and hit him on his face. Hard.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MICHAEL had treated her to the dress she was wearing to the party. He had insisted. He wanted her to look beautiful and, after politely listening to her insist that she could get a perfectly good something or other at one of the department stores, had reasonably pointed out that something or other from a department store just wouldn’t do. They would be surrounded by the Great and the Good, and she would just end up feeling awkward in something cheap and cheerful.

  Abby now stood in front of the full-length mirror in the room and inspected her reflection joylessly.

  The rich burgundy-coloured dress looked as stunning on her as it had when she had first tried it on at Harrods. Better, in fact, because she was wearing make-up, high heeled shoes and was clutching a little bag which was unnecessary but looked very elegant.

  She twisted so that she could have a view of the back which, very daringly for her, plunged almost down to the waist, although the front was deceptively modest, with soft small folds camouflaging the fact that she was braless. It seemed odd to be wearing a long dress in a hot place, but the soft fabric against her legs felt very cool.

  She would make everyone’s head spin, Michael had assured her before he had gone to meet all the assorted friends and relatives who were arriving in batches. Abby could think of one notable exception but she had refrained from saying anything, just as she had avoided telling him about his brother’s kind offer to buy her off.

  She sighed now and continued standing where she was, reluctant to go outside but knowing that she couldn’t remain hovering in the bedroom for much longer. It was already seven-thirty and the party had officially begun half an hour previously. She had telephoned England and spoken to Jamie, but not even the sound of his voice could still the tense, furious knot in the pit of her stomach.

  Theo would only be on the island for one more day. Less, in fact. He would be leaving the following afternoon, and it would be easy to keep out of his way until then because the house was now full of guests overnighting. Most would leave the next day but, in the meanwhile, there would be sufficient people in which to lose herself.

  The day’s so-called sightseeing trip seemed to be on a circular tape in her head, replaying endlessly, always concluding with his insulting offer of money to get her out of his brother’s life. Slapping him had achieved nothing, apart from granting her a temporary sense of satisfaction.

  ‘You are excused once for doing that,’ Theo had grated, catching the offending hand in a vice-like grip and pulling her towards him. ‘Once and no more. And if I were you,’ he had continued coldly, ‘I would give my proposition a great deal of thought because, trust me, you’ll either leave with money in your pocket or you’ll leave with nothing. But you’ll leave.’

  They had completed the drive back to the villa in stony silence. For most of the trip Abby had sat pressed against the door, staring out of the window. There seemed little point in trying to convince him that he was wrong about her.

  ‘Oh, well, I guess I’d better make my appearance,’ she said to her reflection. ‘And I won’t be cowering in the shadows either.’

  She exited the room with her head held high. A bully was only as powerful as he was allowed to be. Theo Toyas was accustomed to everyone bending over backwards to accommodate him. If he clicked his fingers they jumped to his command. If he frowned they scurried to curry favour. And if he threatened, well, they cowered in fear and obeyed on bended knee.

  Abby had no intention of doing any of those things.

  She emerged to find the huge central area alive with guests. Some she had met earlier on when she had returned from her disastrous day out, but many more she didn’t recognise at all. She expected quite a few would have arrived some time in the late afternoon, when she had already retired to the room to recover from her verbal battering. These guests would not be staying. They would have come by boat or by helicopter and would be returning the same way.

  Through the open patio door she could see many more people were milling about outside.

  For a few seconds she had to resist the urge to turn tail and run, but then she made her legs move and headed towards the first person she knew, all the while looking around to see if she could spot Michael anywhere. Also to see if she could find Theo, just so she could make sure to locate herself somewhere far from him.

  Waiters and waitresses, most of them somehow related to the two retainers, threaded their way among the guests with platters of savouries and glasses of champagne or orange juice. The noise levels reflected the mood. Lots of laughter and the warm conversation of people who hadn’t seen one another for a long time and were catching up.

  Abby had expected to feel the outsider and had braced herself for a night of polite smiles and casual drifting around in the absence of knowing anyone in particular, but within minutes she discovered that this was certainly not to be the case.

  She was embraced with enthusiasm and interest. The women complimented her on her choice of dress, the middle-aged men made inappropriate remarks and laughed at their sense of humour. Most spoke excellent English, but with an accent.

  Michael was nowhere to be seen, and as she made her way from one group to another, stopping to chat with all, she kept her eyes open for him.

  She was peering around, wondering why on earth he couldn’t have made more of an effort to look out for he
r, when a voice murmured into her ear precisely what she was thinking.

  ‘My brother seems to need a few lessons on looking after his woman.’

  Abby froze, inhaled on a sharp breath and slowly turned around to look at Theo.

  He looked utterly and devastatingly handsome. Black trousers were a concession to the formality of the party, but the crisp white shirt was rolled to the elbows in defiance of everyone else who, at least at this stage of the proceedings, had maintained the full dress code of jacket and tie. He was also wearing a bow-tie, undone so that he could release the top few buttons of his shirt.

  Where had he come from? He must have been lurking, ready to pounce, because she hadn’t spotted him at all since she arrived.

  ‘I don’t need looking after and, anyway, do you know where Michael is?’

  ‘Maybe not looking after,’ Theo amended, ‘but I would have thought that as your fiancé he would have been sticking to your side like glue. Especially given the outfit.’

  ‘What about my outfit?’ Abby swallowed the remainder of her first glass of champagne, but it failed to relax her. Her body felt like a piece of elastic stretched to its fullest.

  ‘So much skin exposed at the back,’ Theo drawled in a voice that sent shivers racing up and down her spine. ‘Makes a man wonder what’s at the front.’ He tilted his glass to his lips and drank some of the champagne, but his eyes never left her face.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I really must go and find Michael.’

  ‘Why? You seem to be coping beautifully without him around. Odd.’

  ‘I don’t see anything odd about it at all,’ Abby said irritably.

  ‘You’re recently engaged. Shouldn’t you be in the throes of engaged bliss? Barely capable of taking your hands off one another, never mind tearing yourselves apart for a second?’

  ‘I didn’t know you were the romantic kind of man who thought like that,’ Abby replied, sidestepping the question because what he said made perfect sense. Under normal circumstances, Michael would be by her side, showing her off to his family.

  ‘I’m the kind of man who certainly wouldn’t let his woman out of his sight.’

  ‘Things are different in England. Possessiveness died out in the Middle Ages.’

  ‘Which probably explains why English women can be so unfeminine. Too much independence can be a very bad thing.’

  ‘Oh, right.’ Abby forgot that she was trying to track Michael down so that she could somehow make eye contact with him and be rescued from the dangerously disconcerting man towering over her. ‘All those suffragettes who fought for women’s rights would just love to hear you saying that. You’d be lynched from the nearest tree. For your information, independence is desirable. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, only an insecure man needs to have a woman around catering to his every need and putting him on a pedestal above everything and everyone.’ Lord, had she learnt the hard way not to put any man on a pedestal? She could give lectures on the subject!

  ‘Oh, don’t get me wrong. I believe in women’s rights. In fact, I have no tolerance for employers who exploit the sex of their employees by trying to pay women less than their male counterparts for doing the same job. Nor do I think that women should curtsey every time their man comes into view. However, you are here on your own, you know precious few people. I might have expected your fiancé to pick up the slack and be by your side.’

  The logic of what he was saying left Abby lost for words for a few seconds.

  ‘Michael…’ she began. ‘I know that Michael wanted to meet lots of people. If I had insisted that he stick to me, then he would have, but that would have been unfair on my part. I’m happy to just drift along on the sidelines, anyway, watching everyone having a good time…’

  ‘Is that what you do in England? When you two go to parties together? Drift along on the sidelines while my brother does his own thing?’

  ‘We don’t often attend parties,’ Abby said cautiously. ‘At least not like this. And, don’t forget, Michael has precious little time for socialising. The restaurant business is pretty tireless and now that he’s involved with a club, well, his hours are bizarre most of the time.’

  ‘And that doesn’t bother you?’

  ‘I think we ought to go and mingle.’

  ‘I’m merely curious.’

  ‘Are you?’ Abby said sarcastically. ‘Or is this another nail you’re getting ready to stick in my coffin? We’ve been through your suspicions. I don’t see the point of standing here talking about them more. Nothing’s going to change!’

  ‘Whatever I might think about your motives in getting engaged to my brother, I’m still curious as to how you could contemplate marrying a man who would rarely be around, and certainly never during social hours.’ He signalled for a waitress to come and then helped himself to two glasses of champagne, handing one to her.

  Theo wasn’t lying. He was genuinely curious. He was also, he reluctantly admitted to himself, dazzled by her radiance. Her hair gleamed against her dress with a life of its own, long, straight and unbelievably blonde. Her lack of curves, which should have detracted from her appeal, instead added to it, giving her a gamine sexiness that was even more alluring than anything more obvious. It amazed him to think that his brother had left her on her own.

  If it had been him…

  ‘People do get involved with men who don’t keep normal hours…’

  ‘I’m not talking about people as a generic species. I’m talking about you.’

  Abby gulped down her champagne, gasping as the bubbles hit her throat and went racing through her. The alcohol warmed her face. Gut instinct was telling her to get away from Theo. There was nothing he could say to her that wasn’t, somehow, aimed to home in lethally on any chink in her armour. He wanted her out of his brother’s life and away from the possibility that she could somehow get her hands on some of the Toyas millions. It made her sick just to think about it. But there was something about the man, something dark and compelling, that made her go against the grain and remain where she was.

  The two glasses of champagne on an empty stomach wasn’t helping matters.

  ‘People need space from one another.’ Abby shrugged. The champagne was now taking her down memory lane, and her eyes darkened. ‘It gives you the chance to take a step back and be unemotional about the person you’re involved with.’

  Theo gently swirled his glass of champagne but his eyes were riveted to her face.

  ‘And you think that’s a good thing?’

  ‘Of course it is. It means that you don’t end up making a fool of yourself and trusting someone who isn’t to be trusted.’ She caught herself and managed a tight smile. ‘I mean, generally speaking.’

  ‘Who was he?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ The sound of laughter and voices seemed very distant, just background noise. The man had sucked her into his orbit and she could feel her heart hammering uncontrollably in her chest.

  ‘Of course you do,’ Theo said softly, with just the right amount of surprise in his voice that she would even consider denying the truth.

  In the semi-lit darkness he was all shadows and angles. His masculinity still surrounded him like a force field, but it didn’t feel threatening. It felt…

  Abby shivered.

  ‘Well?’ Theo prompted. ‘Who was he? Naturally you’re not talking about Michael. So who are you talking about?’ He sipped some of the champagne, the finest champagne money could buy, needless to say, and lazily watched her. It was fairly dark out here in the garden, with only the lanterns providing illumination, but her hair still shone like a beacon. He clenched the stem of the glass because for one crazy passing moment he wanted to reach out and touch that hair, just to see whether it felt as good as it looked.

  ‘Oh, just someone I used to know. He turned out to be not the person I thought he was.’ Abby gave a light, short laugh.

  The passing moment of wanting to reach out and touch her hair changed into a viole
nt urge to kill whoever had caused that disillusionment. He brought himself up sharply at the wayward tangent his thoughts had taken and reined them firmly back into place.

  But he still wanted to know…

  He experienced a stab of sharp annoyance when Michael sauntered up to them and flung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him.

  ‘Isn’t she the belle of the ball?’ he asked his brother. ‘And, by the way, Mama wants you to meet your future bride. Alexis Papaeliou.’ He grinned wickedly and raised his glass in a toast. ‘You can run, big brother, but you can’t hide.’

  Theo tried to smile but he wished his brother would get the hell away so that he could finish his conversation. He was no longer looking at her, but he was aware of her with every fibre of his being. It was…madness.

  ‘Alexis Papaeliou…yes, I think the name was mentioned earlier on…’

  ‘Just your type, Theo. Lots of tumbling dark hair and curves and a dress that leaves very little to the imagination. I’m surprised Mama hasn’t hurried to find you so that she can introduce you two.’

  Well, of course that type of woman would be his sort, Abby thought nastily. The full-on type without too much to speak of in the brains department.

  Then she flushed at just how uncharitable she was being to someone she had never met. Her only excuse was that the man was vicious towards her so was it so surprising that she would be critical back? Even if her criticisms were all in her head?

  ‘I don’t have a type,’ Theo said irritably.

  ‘Of course you do!’ Michael was in his element. When he relaxed, he relaxed in style, probably making up for the fact that he was on call for so much of his time. ‘Remember that girl you brought back home when you were seventeen?’ He looked down at Abby and gave her a teasing squeeze, then he said to her, sotto voce but loud enough to be clearly heard by his brother, ‘Her name was Raquel, a real dark-haired beauty. Theo brought her home for all to meet and was seriously surprised when everyone objected because she was in her thirties! She had told him she was nineteen! It was only when she let on that she had a child that the truth came out!’