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traces of yel ow tint found on it when it was discovered.
    'We have always admired fair hair, you see.' Her companion's voice sounded amused.
    'On Phoros near your grandfather's vil a there is a ruined temple that archaeologists say
    was dedicated to Aphrodite. She is usual y pictured as having blonde hair too.'
    Helen said faintly, '.She could be bald as a coot for me. I—I real y must get out of here.
    I can't breathe.'
    The events of the next hour or so were merciful y blurred. Later she would remember
    details, like the strength of his arm round her, and the way the cushions of that sleek
    car of his seemed to support her like a cloud. As they drove back to the hotel, she
    found herself wondering, as she tried to control the waves of threatened nausea, what
    he had done with the dark beauty she had seen him with, but enquiring was altogether
    too much trouble. Besides, she tried to tel herself, what did it matter how many women
    he had?
    And she could remember vomiting tiredly until her throat and her stomach ached, and
    the tiled bathroom swung in a dizzying arc around her, and the refreshing sensation of
    a towel dipped in cold water wiping her face, and being placed acrossher forehead as
    at last—at long last—she lay down on the bed and closed her eyes.
    When she opened them again it was early evening, judging by the length of the
    shadows across the floor. She sat up gingerly. Her head stil ached, but she no longer
    felt that terrible, debilitating nausea. In fact, she was almost hungry. She pushed back
    the single sheet which was the only covering provided on the bed, and started to get
    out, catching as she did so an astonished glimpse of herself in the long mirror opposite.
    She looked a mess, she thought candidly. Her eyes looked twice their normal size, and
    her hair hung on her shoulders in a tangle, but that was incidental. Al she was wearing
    wereher underclothes, a dark blue lace bra and matching brief panties. Her navy dress
    was hanging over the back of a chair with her sandals placed neatly beside it, and she
    couldn't for the life of her remember removing any of them.
    She got up and went over to the dressing table, reaching for her hairbrush which had
    been among the smal amount of hand luggage she had unpacked, and starting to
    smooth her hair into its usual face-curving style. She looked wan, she thought critical y,
    but cosmetics would soon improve that. She wandered into the bathroom and had a
    long leisurely wash, spraying herself liberal y with L'Air du Temps when she had
    finished.
    She would phone down for some soup, she thought, and also enquireif there were any
    messages for her. It was already wel past the time that Damon Leandros had proposed
    they should set off for Phoros, and she supposed he would be waiting somewhere.
    Grudgingly, she had to admit that he had been kind enough during the dash back to the
    hotel, and that he had at least left her alone to recover from her sickness.
    She sauntered back into the bedroom, and stopped dead, her eyes widening in
    disbelief. Damon Leandros was there, lounging nonchalantly against the long row of
    fitted wardrobes which fil ed one wal . For a moment their gazes locked, and then his
    eyebrows rose mockingly and she remembered too late that she was half naked.
    She looked round wildly for her dress, but he was between her and the chair on which
    it lay. As if he guessed what was going through her mind, he turned and reached for it,
    tossing it to her. She snatched at it thankful y, and dragged it over her head, her hands
    fumbling as she sought to reach and close the long back zip.
    He watched her efforts for a moment or two, a derisive smile curling bis lips, then he
    moved towards her and she took an instinctive step backwards.
    'Relax,' he advised curtly. 'I have no intention of raping you, but you seem to need
    help.' 'I don't need anything from you,' Helen choked, stil struggling ineffectual y with
    that damned zip.
    'You didn't say that a