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into the rear of the car, occupying its luxurious seating in solitary splendour while her escort sat in silence beside the driver.
    She leaned back, listening to the distant growl of thunder, and watching the rain pour down the windows, as she relished the rich scent of expensive leather.
    No doubt the cost of this transfer would go on the lawyers? bill, she thought with an inward grimace. It would have been far cheaper to get a cab, although, admittedly, not nearly as comfortable. And was it really necessary to send two people to collect her? After all, she was hardly likely to come all this way just to do a runner.
    It was too dark to see anything, even without the distortion of the rain on the glass turning street lights and approaching traffic into a blur, so she closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift.
    She had almost dozed off when she realised that the car was slowing down, then coming to a complete halt.
    Now to face the family, she thought without pleasure. She sat up hurriedly, pulling her skirt over her knees, as the passenger door opened. Another man was standing there, holding a large umbrella, and for a moment, she assumed it was Manolis, the Papadimoses? major-domo, and was just about to greet him when she saw that he was also a stranger. Realised too, that the brightly lit entrance she was being hustled towards was also completely unfamiliar to her.
    She tried to hang back. ?No,? she said in Greek. ?There has been some mistake. I should be at the Villa Demeter.?
    ?No mistake, thespinis . This is the right place.? The pair of them were on either side of her now, their hands implacably under her elbows as they urged her forward into a vast hall dominated by the wide sweep of an imposing marble staircase.
    Natasha hardly gave her surroundings a second look. She was too angry for that, trying desperately to remember the name of the lawyer who?d sent them, because he?d be someone to complain to?and about?when this muddle was eventually sorted.
    In the meantime, in spite of her efforts to pull free, she was being taken up those curving stairs to a galleried landing.
    ?What is this?? she demanded huskily. ?Where am I? Tell me at once.?
    Silent, impassive, they halted in front of a pair of double doors, and knocked. The man from the airport reached down to the ornate handles and the doors opened noiselessly.
    They didn?t push her in. It wasn?t quite as crude as that, but somehow she was stepping forward, and they were moving backwards, and the doors were closing again behind her. Leaving her standing there, alone.
    Except that she was not alone.
    It was a very big room, but all Natasha noticed was the bed, lit on either side by tall lamps, like a stage set. Illumining, she realised dazedly, the man who was sitting in that bed, leaning back against a mound of snowy pillows, and naked down to the sheet discreetly draped across his hips, and probably beyond, as he worked in the laptop computer open in front of him.
    He unhurriedly completed whatever task he was engaged on, then Alex Mandrakis closed the lid, put the laptop on the adjacent table and looked at her.
    ?Ah,? he said softly. ?The beauty I was promised, here at last.?
    His voice was cool. His English spoken with only a faint accent.
    He can make love in four languages ?
    Her throat closed as, for the second time in her life, his dark gaze swept her from the silk of her blonde hair down to the neat black pumps on her feet. But this time, the expression of frank appreciation in his eyes was mixed with something altogether more disturbing.
    Involuntarily, Natasha took a step backwards, and saw him smile.
    She said hoarsely, ?What?s happening? Why am I here??
    ?You offered yourself to me,? he said. ?In writing.? He shrugged a bare, muscular shoulder. ?I am therefore accepting your offer. It is perfectly simple.?
    ?No.? This time Natasha stood her ground, and glared at him. ?It?s total nonsense, and you know it as well as I do. So don?t pretend you were fooled