Her brain raced as she tried to decide what to do. Philip had categorically forbidden her to have any dealings with Stavros, but she had never really understood the reason for Philip's hostility. And, besides, it seemed so absurd to refuse to open the door when Stavros knew perfectly well that she was inside. Absurd and somehow embarrassing. As if he were the big, bad wolf and she were the little pig waiting to be eaten. But what on earth could
Irene's brother possibly want with her? Might it not be just as embarrassing to speak to him?
The doorbell rang tentatively and, with an uncomfortable, fluttering feeling in her stomach, Kate made up her mind. Resolutely, she turned the handle and stood back.
'Hi, Kate, how're you doing?' asked Stavros, stepping inside with a faint swagger.
'Hello,' replied Kate warily. 'What can I do for you?'
'Hey, lighten up,' urged Stavros. 'I'm not going to eat you, honey.'
Kate coloured, feeling as if he had read her mind. 'It's just that I didn't feel you'd have much to say to me under the circumstances,' she said stiffly.
'Circumstances?' echoed Stavros blankly. 'Oh, you mean all that stuff about Irene. Yeah, well, look, in a way that's why I'm here. Is there somewhere we can talk?'
He lunged suddenly forward and, for one panic- stricken moment, Kate thought that he was about to attack her. Then she saw that he was simply helping himself to a celery stick from a bowl of cold water that stood on the counter. Weak with relief and cursing herself inwardly as a fool, she answered him disjointedly.
'Talk? Well, I don't... Perhaps you'd better come into the sitting-room.'
Once inside the sitting-room, Kate realised that she had left her unfinished letter to her parents lying on the couch. Help! The last thing she wanted was for Irene's brother to learn about her marriage plans. Hastily she closed the writing pad and thrust it away into a drawer of the sideboard. Feeling thoroughly flustered, she sank down on the couch and ushered Stavros into an armchair.
'Do sit down,' she uttered nervously.
Stavros smiled, a faint, bewildered smile, as if he was wondering what was upsetting her. Kate had just begun to settle down and breathe more calmly when a fresh source of panic attacked her. She had suddenly realised to her horror that the photo of her and Philip in the jacuzzi was still lying on the couch, half concealed by one of the cushions. If Stavros saw that there would really be an uproar. Smiling brightly, she shifted slightly along the couch until she was sitting in front of it and then let her fingers wander until they touched the photo. Still smiling, she stuffed it hastily out of sight.
'Are you OK?' asked Stavros. 'You seem kinda nervous.'
'I-I'm fine!' stammered Kate. 'Stavros, did you want to see me about anything in particular?'
Stavros shifted uncomfortably and stared down at the backs of his hands.
'Yes, I did,' he admitted. 'It's to do with Philip and Irene--'
'Well, in that case, I don't think there's anything useful to be said,' cut in Kate with spirit. 'I'm not prepared to discuss that subject with anybody!'
'Hey, wait a minute, don't get me wrong!' protested Stavros swiftly. 'Look, Kate, I don't have anything against you personally. I always liked you. I'd have to be honest and say I'm sorry that you cut out Irene where Philip's concerned, but the truth is it's really none of my business. I didn't come here to try and persuade you to drop the guy.'
'Then what did you come for?' demanded Kate suspiciously.
Stavros grinned ruefully.
'It's kind of a delicate subject,' he said. 'But it's like this: you know the necklace that Philip gave Irene on the night of the hotel opening?'
'Yes,' said Kate apprehensively. 'What about it?'
Stavros looked embarrassed.
'Well, Irene left it here at Philip's house the night of the opening. In his bedroom actually.'
Kate felt a pang of pure jealousy so searing that it almost scorched her. She knew perfectly well that Philip and Irene had been engaged for years, but somehow the thought that he might have slept with Irene even after he'd met Kate had never occurred to her. And yet they had seemed awfully close on the night of the opening... Biting her lip, she cast Stavros a stricken look.
'So?' she asked unsteadily.
'So Irene wants me to collect it for her,' replied Stavros. 'Hell, I'm sorry, Kate. I know it's kind of embarrassing for you, but it's not too great for me either. And Irene could hardly come and get it herself, could she?'
'I suppose not,' agreed Kate bitterly.
'So, is it OK if I go up and get it?' persisted Stavros.
Kate hesitated. She wanted to shout that Irene could drop dead before she would get the necklace, but she had too much dignity to make such a fool of herself. Besides, some innate sense of fairness made it impossible for her to keep someone else's property out of spite.
'I suppose so,' she said reluctantly.
All the way up the stairs she kept hoping absurdly that Stavros was wrong, that there would be no sign of the necklace in Philip's room. But the hope was vain. As they reached the top of the stairs Stavros hurried on ahead, and by the time Kate caught him up he was already standing at the dressing-table with an enamelled jewellery box open in front of him. He held up the magnificent river of diamonds that sparkled in the light.
'This is it,' he said, unceremoniously stuffing it into the sports bag that was slung over his shoulder. 'Thanks, Kate. I--Did you hear that?'
'Hear what?' asked Kate, baffled.
'It sounded like a window opening downstairs.'
'Oh, no,' groaned Kate. 'Not more of those stupid reporters!'
She hurried downstairs and ran from room to room, checking all the windows, but there was no sign of an intruder. But perhaps she had just frightened him off and he was still lurking outside, waiting for his chance...
Looking anxiously round the dining-room, she heard a footstep behind her and jumped.
'Oh, Stavros!' she exclaimed. 'You gave me such a fright!'
'Kate, you're all on edge,' he said sympathetically. 'You shouldn't let those reporters get under your skin so much. They always write a load of garbage about rich people, but nobody believes it. Look, why don't you come down and have a game of tennis with me? It'll take your mind off all this.'
Kate hesitated.
'Come on,' urged Stavros, smiling disarmingly. 'I promise I'll personally check all the locks and bolts for you before we go.'
'All right,' agreed Kate, her spirits rising. 'Why not?'
The next hour was spent furiously pounding a ball backwards and forwards across the net. The hard surface of the courts had dried quickly after the rain, and Kate found the exercise invigorating. Out in the sunlight her earlier fears about reporters seemed ridiculous, and even her worries about Philip's financial problems receded. When a hotel employee came out to tell Stavros there was a telephone call for him, Kate felt quite surprised to find that it was after one o'clock.
'Do you want to call it quits now?' asked Stavros, smiling at her with perfect white teeth. 'Or should we go on playing later?'
'Well, it is lunchtime,' said Kate regretfully.
'And I'm winning,' agreed Stavros. 'Which is always a good reason to stop playing.'
Just for an instant there was something almost wolflike about his smile.
Kate's marrow seemed to freeze in her bones as she looked into those glittering dark eyes, then Stavros deliberately stretched, blinked, and smiled at her again so cheekily that she felt a complete fool.
'Are you sure you wouldn't like me to come back up to the house with you and check for bogymen under the beds?' he teased.
'No, I can handle it,' she answered pertly. ' Yasu, Stavros.'
'Ya.'
On her way back to the house she wondered idly why Philip seemed so hostile towards Stavros. No doubt he was a bit of a playboy, but he had tremendous warmth and charm. Did Philip resent that? Or was he jealous of the way Stavros's life had always been so easy and cushioned compared to his own? A
nyway, whatever the reason, it was totally absurd and archaic for Philip to forbid her to see Stavros.
Kate was still musing on this when she reached the front door of the house.
A quick glance at the shrubbery reassured her that there were no reporters lurking in the bushes and, with a sigh of relief, she inserted her key into the massive front door. But before she even had time to turn the key, the door opened slowly in front of her. Kate gave a little cry of alarm and stepped backwards at the sight of the figure that confronted her.
'You!' she breathed in dismay. 'What are you doing here?'
It was her ex-lover, Leon Clark. He was a tall, good- looking man with long brown hair, which flopped forward over his forehead and eyes of a deep cornflower-blue. And he was smiling charmingly. But the smile held as much appeal for Kate as a crocodile's.
'Yasu!' he said mockingly. 'Aren't you going to give me a kiss, sweetheart?
After all, it's a long time since you've seen dear old Leon, isn't it?'
'Not long enough!' retorted Kate angrily. 'Where did you spring from, you creep?'
He brandished a nail-file teasingly.
'Well, let's just say I found a window that wasn't quite secure,' he smirked.
'So you've added breaking and entering to your talents of lying and adultery, have you?' demanded Kate disdainfully. 'Well, I don't know what good you think it will do you, Leon. All I have to do is call hotel security and they'll throw you out so fast that it will make your head spin!'
'That would be a pity,' murmured Leon. 'Particularly since I haven't had a chance to put my business proposition to you.'
'I know all about your propositions, Leon,' said Kate coolly. 'And I'm not interested in them, business or otherwise.'
'Not even in a hundred thousand dollars for the exclusive rights to your story? This love-affair with Andronikos is big news, you know, Kate.'
'A hundred thousand dollars!' echoed Kate in disgust. 'Don't be ridiculous, Leon! Reputable television stations don't have that kind of money, and they don't deal in slander.'
'I'm not with that sort of television station any longer. I'm with the commercial media. Stardust International, based in London. And they're offering a hundred thousand dollars for the exclusive rights to your story.
More, if you'll supply pictures.'
'If they were offering a hundred million dollars I still wouldn't be interested, Leon. My story, as you keep calling it, is not for sale.'
'Oh, but mine is, sweetheart,' said Leon softly, moving a step closer to her and catching her by the wrist. 'It's not quite as juicy as yours, but I'll bet there are a lot of readers who'd pay good money to hear all about our cosy little love-nest in Paddington, Sydney, before you really hit the big time.'
'You swine!' hissed Kate. 'You wouldn't dare!'
'Wouldn't I?' demanded Leon coldly. 'Just watch me, darling. I've been waiting for a break like this for years. And nothing's going to stop me cashing in on it. Unless your new boyfriend would rather pay me not to tell my story.'
'Get out!' cried Kate.
With a strength she didn't know she possessed, she ran at him and swatted him hard with her tennis racquet. Then, wrestling him off balance, she leapt across the threshold, pushed him out of the door and slammed it shut behind him. Feverishly she shot the bolts and then ran to the back door of the house and did the same. Only when she had checked every window in the house did she collapse, shaking, in a chair. And even then she had to leap up a moment later.
'Oh, help, the jacuzzi photo.. .my letter!' she cried, panic-stricken.
But this time her luck was in. For when she raced frantically into the sitting-room and scrabbled under the sofa cushion the photo was undisturbed. And a quick check of the sideboard drawer showed that her letter to her parents was also safe. Weak with relief, she sank down on the scattered cushions, clutching the photo. Her heart was pounding as if she had run a marathon, and an awful sense of impending disaster hung over her.
'Oh, I wish Philip would come back!' she groaned.
But it was another two days before Philip came back, and one look at his face told Kate that his errand had not prospered. His lips were set in a thin line and his eyes wore an intent, brooding look. Dropping his overnight bag on the hall floor, he took Kate in his arms and kissed her fiercely. His unshaven jaw rasped her sensitive skin and she winced involuntarily.
'Sorry,' said Philip roughly. 'I didn't have time to shave this morning. There were bankers to meet. And after that I wanted to see you so badly that I just climbed in the car and drove like a madman. I'll go up now and get to work with a razor.'
'Wait!' cried Kate, clutching his jacket. 'Philip, it doesn't matter. I just want to hold you, to be with you. You look so exhausted. Didn't.. .didn't it go well?'
He gave a harsh laugh and ran his fingers through his springy dark hair.
'They're a lot of fools, Katarina!' he exclaimed. 'They can't see a golden opportunity when it's right in front of them. Not one of them!'
'So there's no hope, then?' faltered Kate.
'Don't say that!' snapped Philip. 'I can't stand that sort of defeatist talk. I'm not beaten yet by a long shot. I've still got one more idea that I'm going to try.'
Kate nodded, only half listening. However urgent Philip's financial problems were, there was something else that worried her even more. For the last two days she had been fretting about her unexpected encounters with Stavros and Leon. Try as she might, she could not rid herself of a sharp sense of jealousy about Irene and the necklace, while Leon Clark's visit had plunged her into even worse confusion. After two sleepless nights she was still unable to make up her mind whether to tell Philip everything or simply say nothing about the incidents. Philip was hardly likely to be pleased that she had had a visit from an ex-lover, but perhaps it was better to be honest with him. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for the ordeal of confiding in him.
'Philip, there's something I ought to tell you--' she began.
'Can it wait till we've eaten?' cut in Philip. 'I haven't had a meal since last night, and I'm pretty tired from travelling. Why don't you call one of the chefs and order dinner while I take a shower? Then we can talk.'
'Yes, of course,' agreed Kate remorsefully. 'I cooked some stiphado today myself, if you'd like to try that. Or I can phone one of the hotel restaurants if you'd rather have something else.'
Her voice was hesitant, but she looked up at him eagerly. A warm smile lit his face.
'Oh, Kate,' he said softly. 'How did you get so sweet and anxious to please me? Of course I'll try the stiphado.'
When he came downstairs half an hour later the house was filled with the rich aroma of stewed beef, tomatoes, herbs and crusty bread. Kate found the formal dining- room overpowering, so she had set a small, cosy table in the breakfast nook. Philip nodded appreciatively as he sat down.
'This reminds me of my mother's cottage,' he said, gazing down at the traditional Greek tablecloth. 'In fact it even smells like my mother's cottage.'
Kate set out a large dish of potatoes baked with lemon and rosemary, and a hearty salad of black olives, tomatoes, cucumbers and feta cheese to accompany the stew, and then sat down opposite him.
'Kali oreksi,' she murmured, picking up her fork.
They ate in companionable silence and Philip demolished three large helpings of food before he finally pushed away his plate with a contented sigh.
'Bravo,' he said. 'That was excellent.'
Kate gave a troubled smile.
'Thanks,' she said absent-mindedly.
'But something is troubling you, isn't it?' demanded Philip shrewdly. 'This thing that you want to discuss with me?'
Kate nodded unhappily.
'Is it to do with Stavros?' asked Philip sharply, seizing a bread roll and tearing off a large hunk.
Kate gave him a startled glance.
'How did you know?' she demanded.
Philip frowned angrily.
'You surely didn't think you c
ould play tennis with him for a full hour in front of the reception centre and not have anybody notice, did you?' he demanded. 'I've told you before, Kate, and I'll tell you again—I won't have you associating with that young man. Under no circumstances are you to be alone with him, is that clear?'
Philip's expression was so fierce that Kate quailed. What on earth would he say if he knew Stavros had been alone in the house with her? Perhaps it would be better if she waited for some other time to discuss it.
'All right, Philip,' she said in a subdued voice. 'Shall I make some coffee now?'
Philip's anger seemed to evaporate instantly.
'Please,' he agreed. 'And take no notice of me if I snap, Katarina. I'm tired and worried.'
Kate switched on some soft Greek Remvetika music and they sat drinking coffee until at last their cups were empty. Philip gave a sigh of satisfaction.
'That was a superb meal,' he said bluntly. 'You will make a good wife, Katarina.'
'Provided I remember my place and stay in the kitchen?' demanded Kate challengingly.
Philip gave her a sidelong glance full of lust.
'I might also allow you to warm my bed,' he murmured throatily.
Reaching out one powerful arm, he caught her by the wrist and drew her towards him. The movement made his dressing-gown fall open, exposing his dark, hairy chest and gold neck-chain. Kate's heart began to pound wildly, and trickles of excitement ran down her spine.
'I don't believe you're wearing anything under that dressing-gown,' she murmured.
'Why don't you come and see?' demanded Philip.
Pulling her down on to his lap, he caught her face between his hands and kissed her violently. She heard his low groan of excitement as her lips parted against his, then he was wrestling with her dress, forcing open the bodice and slipping his hands inside. A thrill of desire went through her as he touched her naked breasts. His fingers moved over her nipples, teasing them into hard, tingling peaks, then he bent his head and went to work with his tongue. Only when she was gasping and whimpering with longing did he finally take pity on her.
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