'I'd rather make you up,' she teased, not at all sure that she could massage Alex without jumping his bones.
'No way!' he exclaimed, horrified.
'Men should at the very least use a moisturiser. The old-fashioned colognes simply dry the masculine skin- no good at all,' Saffron blustered on, her pulse racing, and not with the effort of walking upstairs.
'Go bury yourself in the study, Alex. We ladies are going to have a hen party,' Anna instructed her son with the wave of a beringed hand.
Saffron could not repress a smile as she saw Alex's look of puzzlement and then his cautioning glance at herself, before he reluctantly walked off to his study. His mother, aunt and cousin had arrived for lunch, and over coffee it had been decided that Saffron would make all three of them up for tonight's dinner party. Anna had declared, 'What's the point of a beauty therapist in the family if we can't make use of her?' and Saffron had laughingly agreed.
In fact, as she carefully set out all her materials in Anna's bedroom, she could not help concluding that Anna, far from being the poor, put-upon lady she had described when telling Saffron the sad story of her husband and Katherina, was in fact a very strong-willed woman. Look at the way the two older women had arrived together today, laughing and joking and obviously intent on enjoying their holiday. It didn't make sense.
But then nothing in her life for the past few months had made much sense. If she could only turn the clock back to May and the fateful day she had agreed to leave the agency and work solely for Anna Statis—safe and secure in London, no one to worry about but herself, no one to care about but herself—would she do it? Was that really what she wanted? To live out her life alone with only her work for company, never to have felt the touch of Alex's hands, the warmth of his embrace. . .? Saffron shuddered.
'Are you all right, Saffy, dear?'
Saffron swung round to face the door; only Anna ever called her Saffy. 'Yes, a ghost walked over my grave. It was nothing.' She could not let the older woman discover the truth about her marriage; Alex was her son and she loved him. Pinning a smile on her face, she asked, 'Right, who's first?'
For the next hour Saffron carefully applied her skills to making first Maria look stunning then Aunt Katherina and finally Anna. The conversation was pure woman talk—clothes, make-up and of course men. . .
That Katherina began recounting a tale from when her first husband was alive.
'Remember, Anna, that time all of us were in London and you and Nikos were looking for a house to buy for Alex starting college? I had met my brother for lunch— he was living in London at the time—and afterwards I met up with you there again. Don't you remember? We were walking around Trafalgar Square.'
'Vaguely,' Anna replied.
'Well, my husband was so old-fashioned.' Katherina turned laughing brown eyes on Saffron. 'Rather like your Alex about family. Anyway, to get back to the story, when I told my husband my brother's new business venture was a partnership in a health club—Studio 96— he was furious, insisting the place was a massage parlour only one step removed from a brothel. We argued, and I chased him around Trafalgar Square, and finally I shoved him into the fountain.'
'Yes, I remember now.' Anna burst out laughing. 'You were screeching, "Anyway, how the hell do you know unless you've been there?" '
"That's right.' Katherina chuckled. 'He gave me some fairy-tale about a well-known aristocrat recommending the place. Then my poor husband died a few weeks later.'
'Saffy, that was my eye.' Anna's head moved to one side as Saffron's hand jerked with the mascara brush.
'What? Yes, sorry.' Saffron was shocked. How could these respectable old ladies be so casual about something so sordid? 'But weren't you horrified?' she could not help asking Katherina.
'Horrified, yes, but I didn't believe it.'
'Oh. . .' was all Saffron could muster, but her facial expression must have given her away because suddenly Katherina was very serious.
'Alex will probably kill me for telling you, but every family has its black sheep and unfortunately my brother Akis was ours; he believed in sailing close to the wind, but never anything out-and-out illegal. When he died several years ago Alex had to go to London to arrange the transportation of his body to Greece for the funeral and sort out his business affairs. I doubt if he would have told me the truth, but I had seen the accounts for the health club—very profitable—and I could not see why it had to be sold. Finally Alex confessed the place was a very expensive massage parlour on the edge of the law.'
'It never belonged to Alex,' Saffron said hoarsely, the full enormity of what she had done finally sinking into her horrified mind.
The laughter of the other three sounded like the witches in Macbeth to Saffron's stunned brain.
'Good God, no!'Katherina exclaimed. 'Apparently he walked in one morning, cleared the place within half an hour, then signed over my brother's share to Akis's junior partner—an Italian, I think—for next to nothing simply to get rid of it before any, however tenuous, connection could get out and affect the Statis name and Alex's impeccable reputation. Goodness knows what went on there after that.'
'Cousin Alex, owning a massage parlour?* Maria hooted. 'The mind boggles! He is so strait-laced, he once stopped my allowance for a month simply because at eighteen I shared a holiday apartment in Paris with another girl and a boy'
Saffron tried to smile, to join in the obvious amusement of the other three, as she finally, with a none too steady hand put the finishing touches to Anna's make-up. Then she quickly gathered up her kit and, with a deep-felt sigh of relief, made her excuses and left Anna's room to return to the comparative safety of the master bedroom.
She dropped her make-up case on the bed and, like an automaton, slipped off her simple cotton skirt and blouse. On leaden feet she walked into the bathroom, stepped out of her briefs and unfastened her bra, letting it fall to the marble floor. She walked into the huge double shower and turned on the overhead spray, her mind in chaos. Lifting her face to the warm water, she let it wash over her, wishing it would wash her mind dear as easily.
How could she have been so dumb? He own common sense should have told her that Alex, with aïï his wealth, would not be bothered about a part-share in some seedy massage parlour.
'My God, what have I done?' she cried, unaware that she had said the words out loud.
The folding glass door was pushed open and a naked Alex joined her. 'What have you done?' he queried mockingly, his hands reaching out for her shoulders, holding her steady. 'Let me guess—slipped and shaved their eyebrows off.' He raised his dark brows teasingly. 'Or hopefully glued their mouths shut?' he prompted with a wry grin.
Saffron, her green eyes wide on his roughly handsome face, was suddenly struck by the realisation of how little she knew her husband. They were as intimate as it was possible for two people to be in the physical sense, and yet on a mental level she had never even tried to find out what made him tick. She had clung to her own opinion and prejudice unquestioningly. It had not occurred to her to try and delve beneath the macho, arrogant mask he presented to the world, even to consider that there ought be a more sensitive soul beneath.
Her gaze slid lovingly over his broad shoulders, the massive hairy chest, his slim waist, narrow hips and long, long legs. The water cascaded over his bronzed flesh like a lover's caress, flowing over hard-packed muscle and sinew. She reached up her hand and gently outlined his firm mouth, down his chin, then trailed her fingers down into the damp forest of hair surrounding the small male nipple. He was her husband, and she. . . she had. . . She could not bear to think of what a fool she had been. . .
'Saffron,' Alex murmured huskily. But even as her touch aroused him, 'What is it?' he asked, recognising the change in her.
Trust, that was what she had lacked; she should have trusted him. And yet it was not entirely her fault—her upbringing had taught her to trust no one. In that second she took a great leap of faith, and, tilting back her head, looked straight up into h
is concerned dark eyes.
'You never owned Studio 96; that day I saw you there was the first and only time you'd been there, wasn't it?'
Alex stiffened, his fingers tightening on her shoulders, his expression suddenly bland. 'So?'
'Why did you let me believe it was yours? Why? Why did you not tell me the truth, deny my accusation?'
'Why should I? It changes nothing.'
'But it does, don't you see?' Saffron was getting desperate. 'If I had known I would never have even contemplated revenge. I would never have told you about Eve. We would have married and everything would have been fine.' How could he not understand? Her puzzled eyes searched his face.
'Everything is fine, my sweet Saffron,' he drawled softly, pulling her closer to him; her naked breasts snuggled into his damp body hair and hard flesh as his strong bands stroked down her back and curved over her bottom, hauling her against the taut heat of his arousal. 'Couldn't be better,' he husked against her mouth as his lips found hers.
'Wait, Alex,' Saffron murmured a long moment later. 'I want to explain.' It seemed imperative to her that she confess her foolishness in believing Alex capable of such despicable behaviour. She would get on her knees and beg his forgiveness if she had to.
He held her away from him, his darkening eyes raking her from head to toe in a long, lingering scrutiny. The water had plastered her wild curls flat to her head, the rest straggling like rats' tails down her back. She had no idea of how desirable she looked, her small face flushed, her gorgeous green eyes pleading, her full breasts hard- tipped, pouting, and his gaze moved lower to the tiny waist, the soft flare of her feminine hips, and smooth, shapely legs. 'There is nothing to explain, Saffron,' Alex declared throatily.
'But there is,' she wailed, amazed at his denseness. 'Katherina told me all about her brother—the black sheep of the family—and the health club. If only. . .'
'"If only. . ." Really, Saffron, have we come to that— the tritest phrase in the English language?' With a snort of disgust, he stepped out of the shower stall and, collecting two towels, threw one to her. His expression grim, he hitched the other towel strategically around his hips.
'You want to talk? OK, we'll talk. Dry yourself; if I touch you again, conversation will definitely be out.' And, turning, he strode out of the bathroom.
Saffron rubbed herself dry, swiftly wrapped the fluffy towel under her arms and over her breasts sarong style, and dashed after him.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed and his dark, assessing eyes lifted to her flushed face. She walked towards him and stopped a foot away; it was strange to be looking down on Alex for a change, and somehow it gave her confidence to ask, 'Why did you not tell me on our wedding night when I accused you of. . .? Well, you know what.'
'Because, Saffron, I did not think it that important. I know who and what I am; the misguided opinions of other people hold no interest for me.'
'But we were married.'
'Yes, but a marriage licence did not give me licence to blacken my aunt Katherina's name.'
Saffron had never felt so small in her life; while she had ranted about Eve, her dead friend, Alex, however misguided his reasons, had remained silent to protect a female member of his family. For once, her mind clear of the guilt and chaotic emotions that had beleaguered ter from first meeting Alex, she saw the man beneath the hard, sophisticated surface. How could she have been so blind? Alex was half Greek and all male; it was an integral part of his nature to protect the family, especially the female members.
She stepped forward between his knees and, reaching down, placed her hands either side of his head, her fingers tangling in the damp black hair. Tilting back his head, she bent and, for the first time in their relationship, kissed him full on his sensual lips. She put her heart and soul into it, and when she finally lifted her head Alex's hands were firmly clasped around her thighs.
'What was that for?' His eyes, holding a gleam of amusement, slanted upwards. 'Not that I'm complaining,' he drawled, and fell back on the bed, taking Saffron with him.
'Because I love you, you fool.' Saffron laughed out loud; her legs trapped between his powerful thighs, she Say sprawled across his broad chest. 'And you're too damn macho, too noble for your own good,' she teased, biting lightly down on a very tempting male nipple.
'Noble, eh?' Alex repeated with obvious pleasure. 'A vast improvement on being a crook, pimp et cetera. Noble I can live with.' And, in a lightning move, Saffron was flat on her back, her feet on the floor, and Alex was between her thighs, leaning over her.
Her slender arms looped around his neck, her heart full of love and laughter. She felt light-headed with joy. The sense of betrayal she had felt towards Eve at the pleasure she found in Alex's arms no longer existed. The man indirectly responsible for Eve's death had nothing to do with her husband. She was free, free, free. . .
Pulling his head down until his mouth was a breath away from hers, she whispered, 'And I can live with you, my noble Alex, my love. . .'
He looked at her for a moment, his face grave, questioning, as if he doubted her words. Then his mouth came down on hers, crushing her lips against her teeth in a sudden savage assault. She opened her mouth, welcoming his passion as her body arched up to him, urging the more powerful, steely invasion of his masculine form.
There was no need for preliminaries; her body was hot and waiting for him. His large hands slid down around her waist and hauled her on to him and she clung to him, buffeted by wave after wave of passion, until a tumultuous release shook her to the depths of her soul and Alex, with a shuddering cry, spilled his life force into her. For a moment his hands tightened around her waist and his lips brushed hers in a tender kiss.
Then abruptly he straightened up. 'That was not so noble of me,' he said at last, his voice low, his dark eyes intense.
Saffron smiled up at him. 'I enjoyed it; I always enjoy you,' she confessed freely, happily.
Their eyes met and clung, and then Alex's lips quirked in the beginnings of a smile. 'My spicy Saffron,' he drawled endearingly, 'I'm beginning to think I will never get enough of you as long as I live, but right now three beautifully made-up women are waiting downstairs to greet the rest of our guests—the yacht is due to dock any minute with about a dozen friends and business associates.'
'A dozen more. . .' She gasped her dismay.
'Not to worry, Saffron. Despina has it all under control.'
She felt a brief twinge of resentment. Obviously Alex had not thought her capable of arranging a large party, and that hurt. Did he still see her as simply a plaything? Surely not after the afternoon they had just spent together?
'Come on, we will share the shower.' He held out his hand and she trustingly took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. 'But this time let's try and get washed, torn?'
Half an hour later Saffron walked down the stairs on Alex's arm, her earlier doubts forgotten. She felt as though she was floating on air. Alex was magnificent in a white dinner-jacket and she knew she looked good too. She had swept her red hair up in a bunch of curls on her crown, leaving a few stray curls to hang tantalisingly on her bare shoulders. Her dress was a strapless cream wisp of silk that contrasted beautifully with her golden skin. The skirt was straight, ending just above her knees, revealing her long, tanned legs, and on her feet she wore high-heeled gold sandals. Around her slender throat hung a brilliant diamond and emerald necklace—a gift from Alex only five minutes earlier.
It was the best party Saffron had ever attended, though, as the hostess, she knew it was conceited of her to think so. Sixteen sat down at the elegant dining-table for the formal meal. The food was superb, the conversation scintillating, and everyone appeared to be having a marvellous time. Alex was at the head of the table and Saffron at the opposite end, but it did not seem to matter; she felt closer to him tonight than met before. Occasionally their eyes would meet and a swift secret smile pass between them. He gave her confidence with just a glance.
Luckily she had Ka
therina and Spiros, Maria and James nearest to her, so it was not as if she was among total strangers. The rest of the guests were fashionable and wealthy and regarded Saffron with avid interest, trying to decide just what there was about her that had captured the mighty Alex. She could not suppress a smile at some of the more blatant questions, but with Alex's help managed to field them expertly.
Coffee was served out on the terrace, and the party became informal. Soft music played from strategically placed speakers and a few people elected to dance, but most settled into comfortable groups, chatting about friends and relatives, and, as with most Greek parties, the alcohol flowed as freely as the conversation.
Saffron stepped back out of the circle of light and leant against the balustrade, surveying the laughing faces of her guests—a moment's breather, she thought. Then James approached her.
'Congratulations, Saffron, on your marriage and on your first house party. You're a natural.'
A Devious Desire Page 14