‘That’s very generous of you. I’ll—’

‘I haven’t finished,’ Rion cut in, his free hand sweeping back the long length of her hair from one shoulder to curve around the nape of her neck. A thumb seemingly idly stroked her throat, making each separate nerve-end tingle and tauten in response. ‘To satisfy me, Selina, I want you to join me on the yacht for the next two weeks as my lover.’

Fighting against the sensual awareness that his close proximity aroused, Selina thought for a moment she had heard wrong … Rion couldn’t have asked her to be his lover … Then she looked into his eyes and for a moment was transported back in time. The desire in the black depths was a potent reminder of what they had once shared.

Helplessly she stared at him, her mind screaming that he was worthless, she hated him, even as her pulse accelerated like a rocket in shameful response to the promise of passion in his gaze, to the warmth of his hand curved around her neck.

Then he spoke, and as the import of his words sank in she snapped back to reality.

‘Think of it as the honeymoon we never had, Selina, but without the marriage. No strings attached. I buy back the shares, you get the money, and no further contact between us—business or otherwise—is necessary.’

About the Author

JACQUELINE BAIRD began writing as a hobby, when her family objected to the smell of her oil painting, and immediately became hooked on the romantic genre. She loves travelling, and worked her way around the world from Europe to the Americas and Australia, returning to marry her teenage sweetheart. She lives in Ponteland, Northumbria, the county of her birth, and has two teenage sons. She enjoys playing badminton, and spends most weekends with husband Jim, sailing their Gp.14 around Derwent Reservoir.

Recent titles by the same author:

PICTURE OF INNOCENCE

THE SABBIDES SECRET BABY

UNTAMED ITALIAN, BLACKMAILED INNOCENT

Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

Return of the
Moralis Wife
Jacqueline Baird

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To James and Peter—

without whose love and support

I probably would never have written a book.

PROLOGUE

ORION MORALIS—Rion to his friends—impatiently tapped his long fingers on the steering wheel of the powerful sports car. Athens was notorious for traffic snarl-ups, so it was no surprise he was stuck in one. He was going to be late for a damn dinner party he did not want to go to in the first place. It was his father’s fault, he mused.

Rion had arrived back from a two-month business trip to the USA late last night. At eight this morning his intercom had been activated and his father had breezed into his apartment.

‘To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’ Rion had asked, and the answer had amazed him.

‘I had lunch with Mark Stakis yesterday, and he has agreed to sell his company at a really good price.’ He’d quoted a figure. ‘How about that?’ His dad had beamed. ‘I haven’t lost my touch yet.’

His father’s determination to take over the Stakis shipping line was becoming an obsession. Rion was not involved, but he knew the firm was worth a lot more than what Stakis was asking—the man was giving his business away. But his dad was obviously delighted. He was retiring in the autumn and this deal was to be his last—which was just as well, as his dad was definitely losing his mind if he believed the offer to sell at that price was genuine.

‘So what is the catch?’ he had prompted dryly.

‘Well, Stakis does have a couple of provisos. First, he wants a few shares in the Moralis Corporation instead of more cash. Second, he wants you to marry his granddaughter, so he will know someone of his blood will still be connected to the business that has been his life and his father’s before him after he is gone.’

Rion couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘Incredible.’ He shook his head. ‘I am not marrying any woman for years—if ever—and as for Stakis’s granddaughter, it would be a physical impossibility. The man doesn’t have a granddaughter. His son Benedict, his wife and teenage children were killed in a helicopter crash ages ago—or had you forgotten?’ he queried seriously.

‘No, of course not. It was a tragedy!’ his father declared indignantly.

Then his father told him the story. Benedict Stakis had fathered a child with an Englishwoman when his own wife had been pregnant with twins. Stakis had only discovered the existence of his illegitimate granddaughter after his son’s death. Apparently Benedict had persuaded the woman to keep quiet in exchange for setting up a trust fund with an English lawyer to provide for the child. Mark Stakis had finally met the girl, Selina Taylor, last September, and now she had finished school she was spending the summer in Greece with him.

‘You want me to marry a schoolgirl?’ Rion asked with a laugh, relieved his dad was not going senile. ‘You aren’t serious?’

‘I am serious, and it is not funny. The girl is not a child; she is nearly nineteen. She is staying at Stakis’s home in the city and he is holding a dinner party tonight to introduce her to society. We are all invited, so you can meet her and see what you think.’

‘No. I don’t need to think. Definitely not.’

‘At least meet her. This is too good a deal to pass up.’

But pass it up Rion had—adamantly—over and over again. Then his father had brought up some of Rion’s past ladyfriends, and a recent episode when Rion had been pictured in a tabloid outside a nightclub arguing with the paparazzi over a married lady who was no better than she should be, and had told him it was time he got himself a good woman instead of the bad he so obviously favoured.

His father had then hinted that he would have to think seriously of delaying his retirement and was not happy at the thought of leaving the business until he knew his son was settled.

His father was not averse to a bit of emotional blackmail … Yet they both knew Rion had, over the past few years, been the driving force behind the diversification from the original Moralis shipping line into the international company it was today. But Rion also knew his father’s doctor had warned him after his last heart attack to retire or suffer an early demise. Never mind the fact his stepmother, Helen, would be furious if she had to postpone the world cruise she had planned for his dad’s retirement in September.

Finally he had agreed to attend the dinner, but had made it very clear that was all he was promising—and only to humour his father. His dad saw this deal as the finishing touch on a successful career. He might actually succeed in taking over Stakis Shipping, but he would have to do it without Rion marrying some schoolgirl …

The idea of a marriage for business reasons was not something he would ever contemplate—but then he found the idea of marrying for love just as unpalatable. He wasn’t convinced the emotion actually existed …

He’d loved his parents, and had thought they’d loved each other. He’d been eleven when his mother had died, and six months later his father had married his secretary, Helen, because she was pregnant. That had hurt Rion, still grieving for his mum. At nineteen he had believed himself in love with Lydia, a stunning society beauty three years older than him. In the year they were together she had vastly expanded his education in the sex department—especially the many and varied ways to please a woman.

Rion had seriously considered asking her to marry him, but swiftly changed his mind when he’d caught her in bed with another woman … Lydia had laughed and suggested he join them, but he had refused, feeling betrayed, and he never did propose. But ‘each to his own’ was his motto, and they remained friends to this day.

With the benefit of hindsight he realised why Lydia had been such a good teacher!

Now at twenty-eight, Rion had learnt to be more discerning in his choice of partner. He liked sophisticated women who accepted from the start that all he offered was pleasure for as long as it lasted. He was not into commitment. He had enjoyed a few relationships, but never again imagined he was in love.

The repeated tooting of car horns reminded him where he was and he drove on.

The Stakis house was in the best suburb of Athens. A long drive led up to an impressive entrance portico. Not knowing how many guests were attending, Rion parked at the bottom of the drive so he could make a quick exit. He had a hot date arranged for later with Chloe, a model he had met twice before, and he walked up the drive with a spring in his step that had nothing to do with the dinner party but everything to do with anticipation of ending a couple of months’ celibacy …

A maid answered the door and showed him through the rambling old house to where the guests were gathered.

Rion walked into the room and paused when he saw the girl standing with his half sister, Iris. It had to be the granddaughter—and she was nothing like he had expected and certainly no child, if his body’s immediate reaction was anything to go by. Selina Taylor had a knock-out body, and he had to fight to control the pleasurable hardening in his groin area at the sight of her before moving on.

She was about five feet six, with full, firm breasts, a narrow waist, slim hips and fabulous legs—all perfectly displayed by the short emerald-green designer gown she wore and the sexy stiletto sandals.

Up close she was stunning. Her hair was reddish gold, its curls cut short to frame the perfect oval of her face. Her features were even and her complexion as pale as cream—when she wasn’t blushing, he amended, which she did rather a lot, he realised as the evening progressed.

But even scarlet-faced she was still lovely. Her expressive eyes fascinated him—big and cat-like, and the most incredible colour: hazel, or amber with a hint of green was as near as he could get. When she laughed they gleamed golden, and when she glanced his way they widened and she looked at him almost in awe—which he found flattering and incredibly arousing.

She had an innocence about her, and a lack of artifice that was totally genuine, Rion was sure. And he should know. He had met enough women who tried to play the innocent but with eyes as hard as stone.

‘So, how long have you been learning Greek, Selina?’ he asked her over dinner, wanting to know more about her. He didn’t question why …

He was stunned by her reply. She already spoke Italian and French, and had been learning Greek since meeting her grandfather, but she specialised in Chinese and Arabic and was going to university in the autumn.

She was definitely bright—and yet oddly naive. Rion was an experienced man of the world, used to the attention of women, and was well aware of Selina’s interest in him as the conversation flowed around the table. Under any other circumstances he would have pursued the mutual sexual attraction, but Selina was strictly out of bounds.

For all her stunning looks she obviously had little experience of men.

Coffee was served, and with his usual iron resolve Rion dismissed Selina from his mind. He took a sip or two of coffee and then swiftly drained his cup. Pushing back his chair, he got to his feet. He thanked Mark Stakis for dinner and made the excuse of a conference call booked at his apartment from the USA.

‘Shame you are so pushed for time, but don’t let us delay you.’ Mark Stakis smiled at him. ‘In fact take a shortcut through the garden—it is quicker that way.’ Turning to his granddaughter, he said, ‘Selina, show Rion the pathway to the drive. It will save him time.’

Of course the girl agreed and rose to her feet. Rion was amazed at how obvious the old man was being, but he couldn’t say anything. Instead he followed Selina down the steps from the terrace to the garden path. The poor girl hadn’t a clue Mark Stakis was trying to marry her off …

‘Steady, Selina.’ Rion reached for her arm as she caught the killer heel of one shoe in the decorative paving. ‘I am not in as much of a hurry that I want to see you break your lovely neck.’ Running his hand down her arm, he clasped her hand. Moving on, he said smoothly, ‘So tell me, Selina, how do you like staying in Greece with your grandfather? It must be a lot different from the life you lead in England.’

‘There is no comparison.’ she said. ‘He lives in such splendour.’ Glancing up at him, she added, ‘In fact I was amazed to discover I had a grandfather, and even now I still find it hard to believe.’

She smiled and made no attempt to free her hand from his, and as they walked down the dimly lit garden path, with a little prompting from Rion, she told him all about herself. Her mother was dead and she lived with her Aunt Peggy whom she had known all her life. She had been to continental Europe before, but last Christmas had been her first visit to Greece.

Rion found himself feeling sorry for Selina. She’d had a mother who had denied her knowledge of her father, a father who had ignored her, and now a grandfather who had befriended her for his own reasons. He looked into her big golden eyes, then down to the soft pink mouth, and suddenly it wasn’t sorrow he felt but an overwhelming compulsion to comfort her … kiss her … just once …

He slipped his hands around her waist and drew her gently against him. Lowering his head, he brushed her full lips in a tender kiss. He had meant it to be brief, but the taste of her was instantly addictive. He felt her tremble as he coaxed her lips apart to accept the subtle penetration of his tongue. She swayed against him, her arms wrapping around his neck and her body pressed against the lean, hard length of him.

Rion knew he should stop, but he was enchanted by her taste, her tentative touch, the unconsciously sinuous movement of her body against his, and was reluctant to let her go. Finally, painfully aroused, he drew in a deep, shuddering breath and curved his hands around her shoulders, putting some space between them. He held her for a long moment until his breathing returned to normal, and saw her dilated pupils, the sensual longing in her eyes that she could not disguise. He knew he had to see her again.

Selina was so sexy, and yet so naive. He had an urge to protect her … along with a more basic urge—which of course he knew he must deny, he told himself piously ….

The date he had lined up for after the dinner party was a disaster. Chloe would never speak to him again. He had taken her to a nightclub and then back to her home. Refusing her offer of coffee with a kiss on the cheek, he had left her at the door.

CHAPTER ONE

THE blistering heat of the July day had faded to a bearable level as the luxury yacht glided into the harbour of the Greek island of Letos just before midnightb.

Orion Moralis—tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed, and with a dark frown on his handsome face—the powerful, and some would say ruthless, owner of the vast Moralis Corporation—walked down the stairs from the bridge and onto the main deck. Casually dressed in combat pants and an open-necked black shirt, he paused for a moment to look at the assortment of buildings surrounding the harbour. The church tower held centre stage in the only village on the island, where Mark Stakis lived. Had lived, he amended with a shrug of his broad shoulders. Though as far as Rion was concerned the man had been dead to him for years.

His yacht, with a crew of seven, was fitted with state-of-the-art technology and had been heading for the coast of Egypt for a rare three-week break. Rion had planned to combine essential work with a cruise and a diving holiday. He had heard the news that Stakis was dead and had had no intention of going to the man’s funeral—but yesterday morning he had received an informative e-mail from Stakis’s lawyer, Mr Kadiekis, requesting his presence. He had diverted the yacht midway across the Mediterranean to get here—his trip cut short before it had started.

Rion strolled across the deck and stopped at the rail to glance down at the harbour to where a sailor was securing the yacht to its berth. He was impatient to get ashore; he needed to stretch his legs and shake of the restlessness that had plagued him for months—a major factor in his decision to take a break from his hectic work schedule. The restlessness had increased considerably after the news Mr Kadiekis had given him …

Amazingly Mark Stakis hadn’t changed his will in years, and the knowledge had brought memories Rion had thought dead and buried to the surface with a vengeance.

Six years ago he had married Stakis’s granddaughter Selina Taylor—and what a mistake that had been. Rion rarely if ever made mistakes—in business or in his private life—and it had been a huge blow to his ego when his young wife had betrayed him. For a second black fury blazed through him at the memory. Then abruptly he turned from the rail, and with the gangway in place walked down onto dry land.

Breathing deeply of the night air, Rion walked the length of the harbour away from the lights and onto the beach, enjoying the stillness of the night. The further he walked the more the anger the thought of his ex-wife had aroused in him ebbed away, and he began to relax. He listened to the soft sound of the waves against the shore as he strolled around the headland and through the trees, and realised he had reached the Stakises’ private beach.

He stopped for a moment and looked at the sprawling white villa set on the hillside. A single light shone from the building, dimly illuminating the elegant terraces trailing down to the shore. A retaining wall with a gate gave access to the beach and he glanced, around wondering if there was any security. Suddenly the gate opened.

Rion’s dark eyes narrowed on the white ghost-like figure that appeared thirty feet away, then widened on the very obvious feminine form … certainly neither ghost nor Security.

He stepped swiftly back into the shadow of the trees as the light of the moon illuminated the woman, jogging over the sand, the white robe she wore flying out behind her.

Selina. It had to be …

Rion stiffened, every muscle in his body tense. Although he’d had prior knowledge that she would be here it was still a shock to see her. The woman had some nerve. It was common knowledge that from the day she had returned to England after their divorce her grandfather had cut off all contact with her. But Rion wasn’t surprised. The scent of money was a big lure, he thought cynically.

He stood motionless, his dark eyes narrowed intently on his ex-wife. She obviously thought she was alone as she shrugged off the robe and let it drop to the sand, pausing for a long moment and looking out to sea, a minuscule white bikini her only covering. It was definitely Selina—but not quite as he remembered her. The short, strawberry-blonde hair was now long, swept back in a ponytail that fell midway between her shoulder blades, and as for the rest …

Rion’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes darkening in primitive male appreciation and his body hardening as she pulled the tie from her hair to let it fall in shimmering waves down her back. Then, tilting her face to the night sky, she stretched and raised her arms above her head as though in some kind of pagan worship to the moon. Incredibly, she was even more attractive than he remembered, her body toned and shapely. She was a modern-day Eve—temptation personified.

The pale silver light gleamed on high, firm breasts, the shadowed indentation of her tiny waist and the sensual curve of her hips, and he could not take his eyes off her.

Then, as he stared, enthralled by her beauty, she ran forward and leapt, her back arching in a graceful curve as she dived into the sea.

Fascinated he watched her slender arms scything through the water with barely a ripple as she swam out to sea. Too far out. The worrying thought hit him, and suddenly she slid beneath the waves. With a knee-jerk reaction Rion stepped forward. But she reappeared an instant later and he faded back into the shadows, his heart pounding, and watched as she changed to a butterfly stroke and drew near the shore. She stilled to float gently on her back, her arms and legs outstretched, like some star nymph of the sea.

Rion had never seen anything more erotic in his life. She spun a few times, like a whirling dervish playing in the water, and finally walked out of the sea and strolled back up the beach. Reaching for her robe, she slipped it on and looped the belt around her waist. She lifted her hands and, tilting back her head, swept the long mass of her hair back from her face. She paused for a moment.

Fiercely aroused, Rion wanted her with a hunger that disturbed him. Obviously he had been too long without a woman, he reasoned. For a moment he had trouble remembering how long—months, he realised in surprise. Well, that was about to change—and he knew exactly who with …

His eyes raked over Selina, a predatory light in their darkening depths.

He must have made some movement, because her head had turned in his direction as though she sensed his presence. It crossed his mind to walk out and confront her. But the time was not right. It was her grandfather’s funeral in a few hours. He could wait …

Selina owed him. Not so much money—though that was obviously the reason for her appearance at her grandfather’s funeral, as she was the old man’s only relative.

Narrow-eyed and aching with frustration, he watched as she slowly scanned along the treeline where he stood. He held his breath, then let it out slowly when, after what seemed like an age, she finally shook her head and turned to walk away.

His eyes glittered with a ferocious light as he fought to crush the sexual hunger that had hit him like a thunderbolt. Once he had believed Selina was a poor little innocent, with no parents and no one to care for her and a grandfather who had his own agenda. He had felt sorry for her. But not for long. Less than four months after they had met he’d married Selina and she had betrayed him …

Rion had cut her out of his life and his mind. Selina had been dead to him from that moment on. But when he’d heard she was to be here, and he had been gifted a way to make her suffer in a monetary sense—strip her bare for her betrayal—he had decided to do so. But now a much more satisfactory scenario came to mind. His lips curled and there was an anticipatory gleam in his dark eyes. A female companion was a sexual necessity for a relaxing holiday—and who better than Selina? He would strip her bare, all right, and sate himself in her lush body once and for all …

The moment of reckoning had been a long time coming, but now it had. He was going to have Selina again—not tonight, but soon, very soon. They would have the honeymoon he had once planned and never taken. She owed him that much at least. She had fooled him once with the shy, blushing virgin act, and he had treated her with kid gloves for the short time they were married. But she had soon shown how devious she really was—especially when it came to their divorce. This time it would be on his terms. The gloves were off …

Selina had walked out of the sea and swept back her hair with a smile on her lips, feeling refreshed and at ease, her eyes on the night sky. She’d stiffened as she recognised the constellation of Orion, directly above her. In Greek mythology he was a great huntsman of charm and beauty who on his death had been placed by the gods in the constellations of the sky.

Nothing like the Orion she had known, who had all the charm of a rattlesnake, Selina thought scathingly.

She glanced down and along the beach to the distant lights of the harbour, then back towards the trees, and suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She had the strongest feeling someone was watching her. Not the stars—she wasn’t a fanciful teenager any more …

Maybe swimming in the middle of the night had not been such a great idea, but the pressure of the past few days had finally got to her, and she hadn’t been able to sleep for the heat … Well, that was what she blamed her agitation on, rather than face her grandfather’s death and the painful memories returning to Greece had evoked. Selina could remember with blinding clarity the first time she’d met her grandfather, and the start of a fairytale life that had quickly turned into a nightmare.

She’d had a happy childhood with the mother she had loved—a beautiful, dramatic and vibrant woman, a trained opera singer—and her Aunt Peggy, whom she adored. She wasn’t really her aunt, but a babysitter-cum-housekeeper—as she had realised when she was about five.

Her mother had told her that her father was dead, and for years Selina had accepted that. So it had come as an enormous shock when, in the September after she turned eighteen, she’d met Mark Stakis—an elderly Greek who had said he was her grandfather and told her the true story of her birth.

His son, Benedict Stakis, was Selina’s biological father, and he had died with his family in a tragic accident.

Mark Stakis had only learnt of the existence of Selina after his son’s death …

It had hurt Selina deeply to realise her mum had always known that Benedict Stakis was alive. But in return for a house, and a guarantee to pay for Selina’s upkeep until she was twenty-one, her mum had signed a contract to keep his identity secret from everyone—including her daughter …

Sighing, Selina began walking back to the villa. In the seven years since she had met her grandfather life had taught Selina a lot. She had seen some of the terrible things people were forced to do just to live in this world, and she no longer judged her mother quite so harshly for doing what she had done to ensure a good life for her daughter.

God, she had been so naive when she had met her grandfather, Selina thought, entering the villa and closing the door behind her. She had spent Christmas with him, here in this house. She glanced around the huge if somewhat tired-looking reception hall. But it had been what had happened the next time she’d visited Greece that had haunted her for years. Not any more. She was her own woman now and intended to remain that way.

In her experience good men were in a minority, and ruthlessly ambitious immoral men were in the ascendancy in today’s world. She only had to remember her younger self and the night she’d met Orion Moralis to confirm her view, she thought, letting her mind slip back to the past …

She had been so excited to be back in Greece for a second time, and she’d been staying in her grandfather’s house in Athens. He had held a dinner party, inviting the Moralis family.

Selina had been introduced to Helen Moralis and her daughter, Iris, a few days earlier, and they had been kind enough to take her around the sights and shops. They were there, with Paul Moralis, the husband and father.

Orion, the son, had arrived late, and Selina had taken one look at him and thought ‘tall, dark and handsome’ could have been coined for him. He had smiled and talked to her, his twinkling dark eyes mesmerising her, and with every passing minute she had fallen deeper under his spell.

Finally, when dinner was over, he’d said he had to leave early to take a conference call. Her grandfather had told her to lead Rion out through the garden because it was quicker.

She had stumbled on the garden path in the high heels Iris had convinced her to buy, along with the daring green dress she’d been wearing, and Rion had caught her. He had kept hold of her hand and talked to her, charmed her, and finally kissed and caressed her.

She had fallen headlong in love with him.

Even now, years later, the memory made Selina shiver—with revulsion, she told herself. The only person being led down the garden path that night had been her, she had realised bitterly a few months later.

Straightening her shoulders, she glanced around the silent house and walked up the grand staircase to her bedroom. Tomorrow was her grandfather’s funeral. She had to stay strong to get through the day. As Anna had said, it was up to Selina, his only relative, to ensure his funeral was perfect—as befitted a man of his great stature.

Personally, Selina wasn’t convinced he had been great. But when Anna, his housekeeper—the one person who had befriended Selina in the past and the only one she had kept in touch with since leaving Greece—had called to say he was seriously ill, and had asked Selina to come immediately, she hadn’t been able to refuse. Now she was glad she had arrived two days before her grandfather had died. They’d had a chance to talk and make a sort of peace with each other.

Reconciled with her grandfather, however briefly, Selina had agreed with Anna’s suggestion that she stay and act as hostess to the guests that were expected for the funeral. Now was not the time to be reliving painful memories of the past—if ever …

Rion Moralis waited until he saw Selina disappear through the garden gates and reappear walking up the terraces that led to the villa. There was a shaft of light as she opened the door of the house and vanished again. She was obviously home safe.

Turning, he strolled back along the beach the way he had come, remembering the first time he’d set eyes on Selina. Thinking about it now, as he rounded the headland and saw the lights of the harbour, Rion smiled grimly. That fatal day had been the start of the train of events that had led to his disastrous marriage.

Selina had not been the usual kind of woman he was attracted to, but that had not stopped his body reacting instantly the moment he saw her. She had blushed when they were introduced, but in conversation over dinner it had become obvious she was a bright young woman.

Later, when she’d walked with him through the garden to his car, against his better judgement he had kissed her. With hindsight he realised he had behaved like the teenager Selina actually had been, letting his body’s desire have its way. He’d kissed her again and she had responded with eager naivety, confessing she had never been kissed before—which had only inflamed him more. She hadn’t tried to stop him when he’d trailed his hand down her throat, traced the creamy curves of her breasts, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her dress to tease the small, pink nipples …

Damn it … He was hard again at the memory. He had never felt such an uncontrollable urge for sex with a woman before or since—and it had to stop.

He had proposed to her on this very island soon after they’d met, and had married her on the seventeenth of July in the local church—to the delight of his father and Mark Stakis.

Later, Rion had cynically decided that given the circumstances of their meeting and his opinion of the female sex, he hadn’t been so much surprised as angry when, nine weeks into the marriage, he had returned from a business trip early in the morning on the day of her nineteenth birthday, wanting to surprise her with a diamond pendant he had commissioned specially for her and with arrangements made for a belated honeymoon in the Seychelles.

He had surprised her, all right—with a man. Leaping out of her bed. Not a man—more a boy …

When he’d been able to see through the red haze of fury that had engulfed him, naturally he had thrown her out and informed his lawyer to instigate divorce proceedings immediately. He had neither seen nor spoken to her since.

But he had been surprised, and absolutely furious, when he had discovered just how bright the supposedly shy Selina was when it came to their divorce …

She had refused to sign papers admitting adultery for a swift no-contest divorce in front of his lawyer and her grandfather, then returned to England and consulted a lawyer of her own—the father of her friend Beth, both of whom had been guests at the damned wedding!

Her lawyer had then had the audacity to inform Rion’s lawyer that Selina would consent only to a no-fault divorce. Otherwise she would meet him in open court. The devious little witch had intended to cross-petition, citing Rion’s adultery with various women!

His lawyer had advised him that although Selina had little chance of winning it would be wiser to accept her offer and avoid the publicity a court case would arouse. Her lawyer had evidence to support Selina’s case: video clips of Rion from gossip websites.

One was of him with Chloe in the nightclub, the same night he had met Selina. Chloe was quoted as giving him a score of four out of ten for his sexual ability. A woman scorned, he thought ruefully. Another was of Rion arguing with a photographer outside a club while Lydia, who was now married to Bastias, an influential Greek banker, looked on, plus a couple of other women Rion barely recalled meeting and certainly had not bedded.

Rion had had no choice but to agree with his lawyer—though it had infuriated the hell out of him to do so … Grimly he had conceded that the internet was great for business but a thousand times more lethal than the paparazzi when it came to one’s private life. Even now it enraged him that he’d been outwitted by a faithless teenage wife …

He had blanked her from his mind. He’d been a free man again and had got on with his life, expanding his business empire. But now, after hearing from Kadiekis and seeing her tonight, she filled his mind again as he walked back to his yacht.

Making for his cabin, he stripped off and took a long, cold shower …

CHAPTER TWO

SELINA kept her head bowed as the coffin was lowered into the ground. Mark Stakis was the grandfather she had never known existed until she was eighteen—and now, seven years later, he was dead.

Most of the villagers had turned up for the service, and a lot of the social elite from Athens had arrived by helicopter. She felt as if the eyes of every single one of them were on her, watching and waiting to see if she would break down and cry, as a good granddaughter should. But then she had never been a good granddaughter. She was the bastard from England who had been kept secret for years.

Even after her mum’s death when she was fifteen she had lived in blissful ignorance of the truth of her birth for three more years. After meeting her grandfather she hadn’t known what to think any more. The certainties in her life had been shaken. Maybe that was why she had leapt so hastily into marriage? she thought. Not that it mattered now. Her grandfather had been kind to her in his way, she supposed, and before he died he had said he was sorry, he had done what he’d thought was best for her …

What a horrendous mistake that had been …

With hindsight she should have known. On discovering the truth about her father and the death of his family she should have realised she was the only relative Mark Stakis had left—and given his state of health—was ever likely to have.

Talk about a tragedy, Selina mused. Rich Greeks seemed to have a predilection for them. More money than most people could ever dream of and what good did it do? When he could have built a good relationship with Selina, once she’d got over the secrets and lies she had grown up with, her grandfather had wrecked any possibility of it happening with more secrets and lies. If only he had been honest from the beginning, she thought sadly, a tear sliding down her cheek.

The priest’s voice broke into her reverie and she lifted her head, bent and picked up a handful of earth and dropped it on the coffin.

Standing by the priest, Selina accepted the condolences of the guests as they filed past, and invited everyone back to the villa. Finally, with a supreme effort of will, she forced herself to look coolly up at the last guest. She had glimpsed his presence at the back of the church as she had followed the priest out. Shock had slammed through her for a moment, then determinedly she had chosen to ignore him, but now she had no choice …

Orion Moralis—her ex-husband—a man she had hoped never to see again in her life …

He looks older, was her first thought, and more impressive than ever was her second. Six feet two with thick black hair. Her glance skimmed over his hard, handsome face and down to his broad shoulders. He was wearing a black silk suit, a white shirt and black tie, and in the sizzling summer sun he still managed to look cool.

Rion was the type of man she actively disliked—arrogantly sure of himself and never listening to anyone. As she knew to her cost. A man used to ordering others around, getting his own way. And yet there was something about the enigmatic dark eyes, the sardonic arch of the black brows, the curl of his lip, the jut of his jaw that was compellingly attractive. Sexy … But not to her. Not any more.

‘I’m sorry for your loss, Selina,’ his deep, dark voice drawled, and she would have had to be deaf not to hear the sarcasm in his tone!

‘Thank you,’ she responded equally insincerely, and stiffened as two strong hands curved firmly around her shoulders and pulled her close to his long body.

Shockingly, the strength, the warmth and the scent of him reached out to her, and a flicker of heat ignited low in her belly. He bent his dark head and in that fractured moment she knew he was going to kiss her. His lips brushed one pale cheek and then the other.

‘What do you think you are doing?’ she snapped, angry at her involuntary reaction to him.

‘Protecting my business interests,’ he mouthed against her ear. ‘A death can cause trouble in a company if there is a hint of disagreement between shareholders—and your grandfather was a shareholder.’

How typical, Selina thought, the warmth vanishing. She almost laughed out loud, but didn’t dare. She had a horrible feeling that after the emotional upheaval of the past few days she would end up crying.

Taking a step back, she shrugged his hands from her shoulders. ‘You have not changed,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘Always business first—last and always.’

‘Not always. The last time I was on this island was the day I married you—and I didn’t have business on my mind then,’ he drawled.

Selina glared at him—and wished she hadn’t. The latent desire in his dark eyes reminded her of another time, and for a moment she could not look away. But as he continued to speak her problem was solved.

‘But you are right, Selina, business is my passion—which is lucky for you. You are about to become a wealthy woman … but then you probably already know that.’

He was still the overwhelmingly arrogant chauvinistic pig she remembered—and she also remembered something else.

‘All I know is that for a man who the last time we met swore never to see or speak to me again you are remarkably visible and verbose,’ she said mockingly, and had no trouble walking away to join the priest.

She thanked him for the service and strolled with him to a waiting limousine. It was a mile from the church to the villa, and she was glad to escape into the air-conditioned interior of the car. She was hot and angry and she could not be sure it was just the sun …

From the first time she’d set eyes on him Rion had made her blush and a whole lot more … But never again she vowed. She knew him for what he really was. Most men would be content to be born with wealth, but not Rion. He was a ruthless, manipulative devil who would step over anyone who got in the way of his driving ambition for more wealth and power. Since they had parted she had seen men a whole lot worse than Rion, she conceded, but with the same driven need.

Men who pursued their own selfish desires to the detriment of others and who were instrumental in the choices she had made in her own life …

Selina had a point, Rion conceded, a wry smile twisting his lips as he watched her walk away. Her shapely bottom swayed temptingly beneath the tight black skirt of the elegant sheath dress she wore. She still had a fantastic pair of legs, he noted as her dress rode up to her thighs as she slid into the backseat of a limo, and she had obviously learned how to walk in high heels. Selina had always been a lovely girl, but now she had fulfilled her potential and matured into a stunningly elegant and beautiful woman.

Rion’s resolve hardened as he began the walk to the Stakis villa. When he had held her he had seen in the darkening depths of her expressive eyes that for all her outrage Selina wasn’t immune to him. The attraction was still there.

Yes, seducing Selina would give him incredible satisfaction. Every rampant hormone in his body was telling him that. As would her final surrender and her humble apology for having the colossal nerve to try and tarnish his good name by suggesting they contest their divorce in an open court.

The memory of the action Rion’s lawyer had first suggested he pursue—labeling Selina an adulteress for the rest of her life—conveniently escaped him, but while he walked towards the Stakis home his determination to make sure Selina didn’t escape him grew with every step he took …

Selina sensed the moment Rion walked into the room—because however much she tried she couldn’t quite dispel the disturbing awareness that arose within her whenever she was in his presence. And she wasn’t the only one, she recognised.

Dynamic and strikingly attractive, he bore a sophisticated air of wealth and power combined with a raw animal magnetism. Men and woman alike could not help but recognise it, and the momentary pause in the chatter of conversation confirmed it.

The noise and laughter soon resumed and she thought dryly that the Greeks certainly knew how to enjoy themselves.

After pretending to listen to Mr Kadiekis, her grandfather’s lawyer, waxing lyrical about his brilliant son who had just passed his law exams, she excused herself, with the explanation that she needed to check on the staff. She wove her way through the guests with a pleasantry to some and an acceptance of condolences to others.

Selina had almost made it to the kitchen when Rion stopped in front of her, blocking her way through the crowd of people.

‘You are looking flushed, Selina. I saw you talking to your grandfather’s lawyer. Anticipation getting to you?’ he prompted, and looked at her with a hint of mocking arrogance in his expression.

The smirk and his cynical implication that she was here for what she could get from her grandfather’s death got to her. Tossing back her head, she let her eyes clash with his. ‘I don’t know what you are trying to imply, and I don’t want to know. You will have to excuse me. I need to check the kitchen,’ she said, coolly polite.

‘No, you don’t. You simply want to avoid me. And I have to wonder why,’ he replied, with the sardonic arch of one black brow.

Selina tilted her chin and looked up at him. ‘We are divorced—have been for years, remember?’ she prompted, sarcasm evident in her tone. ‘And, to be blunt, I don’t like you.’ She’d told him straight—now he would leave her alone.

‘There was a time when you did,’ he said, and the reminiscent gleam in the dark eyes that met hers made her heart miss a beat. ‘Once we were as close as two people can be, Selina … a hell of a lot more than once,’ he teased softly.

For a second, a vivid image of their bodies entwined flashed in her mind, and she wished it had not.

‘True, we parted badly, but I forgave and forgot years ago. Surely now we can be friends?’

Friends? Rion had to be joking after the way he had treated her. She recognised the basic all-masculine gleam in his eyes—she had seen it in many a man’s eyes in the years they had been apart. She wasn’t a naive teenager any more, and she knew it wasn’t a friend he wanted. But she couldn’t prevent the sudden tightening in her chest or the throb of her pulse. Anger, she told herself, and swallowed hard. She was unable to speak for a moment, or tear her gaze away.

Rion took a glass of wine from the tray of a passing waitress and handed it to her.

‘Here—join me in a drink for old times’ sake. As I recall we had our moments …’ he drawled, his gaze roaming brazenly over her body.

Selina knew exactly the moments he was referring to. Without thinking she took the glass. Their fingers brushed and a shiver snaked down her spine. Quickly she raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. Long-buried memories were resurfacing in her mind. The connection she had felt the moment she saw him, their first kiss, their lovemaking, his tanned, naked body, all muscle and sinew … He had been like a Greek god to her, with his thick, silky black hair and his soulful eyes with their curtains of black lashes …

Damn—what was she thinking? Selina blinked. There was nothing soulful about Rion. Soulless, more like. She took another gulp of wine. Why on earth was she recalling the good times they had shared when the bad had far outnumbered everything else?

Selina had been married to Rion for eight weeks when his father had retired and set off with Helen on a world cruise. They had moved from Rion’s apartment to stay at the family home and watch over his half sister Iris for a the last couple of weeks of her summer vacation, and then see her safely returned to the international school she attended in Switzerland. During the second week, Rion had gone to Saudi Arabia on business.

Iris had asked if she could invite some friends over on the Thursday evening, for a farewell party before she returned to school. Rion had not been due back until the Friday night, so Selina had agreed—she hadn’t seen any harm in Iris having a little party.

Selina could still recall every minute detail of the whole mortifying scene when Rion had returned unexpectedly very early the next morning. Hearing her name called, she had woken from a deep sleep to glimpse a half-naked man dashing out of her room. Rising up on her elbows, she’d seen Rion standing at the foot of the bed, his dark eyes blazing with fury, rage etched in every line of his hard face.

‘Rion …’ She’d shaken her head in confusion. ‘What …? Who was that …?’

‘Your lover,’ he snapped, his eyes as hard as jet, his face suddenly an expressionless mask. ‘Get up, clean up and get out. The marriage is finished. I never want to see or speak to you again.’

‘You can’t mean that—this is some ghastly mistake!’ she’d cried.

But it had been no mistake. He’d spun on his heel and left without another word.

She remembered the utter humiliation she had felt when she’d realised Rion had instructed the staff to escort her from the house before noon and ordered a car to send her back to her grandfather in disgrace—the adulteress wife on her nineteenth birthday, of all days. She’d tried to get in touch with Rion but it had been hopeless. As he had sworn on the morning he threw her out, he wouldn’t see her, wouldn’t listen and wouldn’t speak to her.

The final disillusionment had come a day later, when she’d managed to meet Iris. Selina had told Iris she was sure she had not had sex with the boy, Jason, as that evening she had gone to bed early, with a couple of painkillers for cramps. The next morning, confused and in tears after Rion’s dismissal of her, she had stumbled into the shower and realised the feminine protection she wore was still firmly in place.

Iris had just laughed and said she knew anyway. Then she had admitted that Jason, the neighbours’ gardener, was her boyfriend. After Selina had gone to bed the rest of them had continued drinking. Iris had told Jason to wait until everyone had left and then give her ten minutes before following her up to her bedroom, the second on the left. Unfortunately the idiot had taken the second on the right, ended up in Selina’s bed and passed out.

Jason had told her the sound of footsteps in the hall had awakened him, and when he’d seen a redhead instead of Iris’s black hair on the pillow next to him he’d been horrified. Panicking, he had leapt out of bed, pulling on his pants, and had run for the door just as Rion had walked in. Head down, he hadn’t stopped running until he was out of the house.

Selina had begged Iris to tell Rion the truth but she’d flatly refused, saying her life would not be worth living if she did. Rion would tell her parents and she would be grounded for months—if not years. To justify her refusal Iris had told Selina that Rion had already arranged to take her back to school tomorrow and fly on from Switzerland to the USA, for an unspecified length of time. Selina would be better off going back to England and to university, she’d told her, and getting on with her life. Because Rion didn’t really love her. He had only married her to seal a business deal with her grandfather.

Iris had overheard her parents talking about it when they’d thought she was asleep in the back of the car on the way home from Selina and Rion’s engagement party at a deluxe Athens hotel. She’d added that Rion would never be faithful anyway, because much as she adored her brother he was a confirmed womaniser. To prove her point she’d got out her laptop and shown Selina some of the pictures and comments Rion’s female friends had posted on social websites.

Reading what other women said about their relationships with Rion had been mortifying. One had been a posting by a woman called Chloe, pictured with Rion in a dimly lit club. The date was a date that was engraved on Selina’s mind: the night she had first met Rion and he had kissed her. He had lied even then! He had not hurried off after dinner for a conference call but to meet this woman …

But what had finally convinced Selina was a shot of Rion arguing with a photographer outside a nightclub with a woman named Lydia looking on. Iris had told her that Rion had been in love with Lydia, and wanted to marry her years ago. But she had married a banker, Bastias, instead.

Sickeningly, Selina had realised, that Rion had introduced her to this Lydia and a woman friend in a restaurant on one of the rare occasions he had taken her out to dinner. Her heart, already cracked, had finally shattered into a million pieces, her love destroyed and turned to dust.

She’d been left devastated, but angry with herself for being such a fool, and on returning to England Selina had determined to get back at Rion through his arrogant pride. Amazingly, she had succeeded—and though it had not mended her broken heart it had gone a long way to restoring her confidence, Selina thought now as she drained her glass of wine. She was a much stronger woman for the experience, and she had no need to fear Rion any more. He wasn’t worth a moment of her time.

Rion had fooled her and used her. It was that simple. The words bartered bride sprang to mind …

‘You and I were never friends, Rion,’ she said bluntly. ‘And I never needed your forgiveness. If anything it was the other way round. But, as you said, it was a long time ago and long forgotten.’

‘Oh, come on, Selina.’

His hand reached around her waist and pulled her closer. She felt the heat of his body through the few inches of space separating them and her heart skipped a beat.

‘I found you in bed with another man, not the other way round as you tried to imply in the divorce.’

It was the arrogant drawl and the mockery that cooled her senses. ‘I didn’t have to try. Anyone knowing your reputation with women believed me. Whereas you leapt at the chance to name me an adulteress wife simply because a drunken boy passed out in the wrong bed,’ Selina shot back flippantly, though she was battling to still her suddenly racing pulse.

‘You know me so well, it seems, Selina,’ Rion said, his lips twisting in a smile as his hand fell from her waist. He straightened up, and there was not a hint of amusement in the dark eyes that clashed with hers. They were as hard and cold as ice.

‘My problem was I never knew you at all.’ She shook her head. ‘But it no longer matters,’ she said, taking a step back. ‘Now, I must check the kitchen.’

Rion’s eyes narrowed on her flushed, determined face. That she had the nerve to try and defend the indefensible with a feeble excuse that a drunk had passed out in her bed was unbelievable, and fuelled his anger and determination to have her back in his bed.

With a shrug of his broad shoulders he moved to one side to let her pass. ‘Oh, it matters, Selina. But I can wait.’

Wait? What for? Selina wondered. They had nothing to say to each other—never had, really. She had been an innocent, gullible teenager who had fallen madly in love with the first man who kissed her, and it had suited Rion to marry her at the time. She had been taken for a fool and discarded at the first opportunity he could find because he had got the company he wanted. It was that basic. And why was she wasting her time thinking about the past? She had moved on years ago, and in a day or two she could go back to her normal life, where her focus was really needed.

She walked past him, her head high, and made it to the kitchen. With a smile for Anna, busy arranging pastries on a tray, she took a bottle of water from the fridge. She picked up a glass from the bench and sat down at the table with a sigh of relief. She poured the sparkling water into the glass and, lifting it to her lips, drank most of it down in one go.

‘You look like you needed that,’ Anna said, and the compassion in the older woman’s dark eyes restored Selina’s mood a little.

‘You are right, Anna—I did.’ Selina sighed. ‘I never expected the funeral service to be so long. I thought I was going to faint with the heat at the graveside.’ It had nothing to do with the hateful Rion and her recent brush with him.

‘Not surprising. It has been a stressful day for everyone. But hiding in here won’t help.’

‘I’m not hiding—simply taking a break from the guests. Most of whom I don’t know anyway,’ Selina said truthfully.

But she harboured no doubts that they all knew her, and knew the lurid stories about her. From illegitimate granddaughter to adulterous wife, she thought bitterly.

‘One guest you know well: Orion Moralis. I’m sorry, it must have been a shock for you seeing him here. It never occurred to me he that would come to the funeral, because after you left he never spoke to your grandfather again. But I suppose it is the socially correct thing to do.’

‘More likely good business,’ Selina said dryly. ‘And there is no need to apologize. I’ve spoken to Rion and we are friends—it is fine,’ she lied.

‘Thank goodness for that. Apparently his yacht arrived late last night. According to the gardener, who spoke to one of the crew this morning, they were heading to the Egyptian coast but diverted to here. It seems a lot of effort to attend the funeral of a man he had not seen in years. I was worried there might be something else, and I didn’t want to see you hurt again.’

Anna knew the truth about their brief marriage. Selina had confided in Anna when she had so ignominiously been sent back to her grandfather, and Anna believed Selina’s version of events.

‘There is no fear of that happening,’ Selina said, rising to her feet. ‘Now the funeral is over and everything is settled I will be leaving tomorrow morning. I have a flight booked back to England tomorrow night, so I can spend a week with Aunt Peggy before returning to work. I promise, Anna, you have nothing to worry about. You can carry on as usual, looking after the villa until you want to retire. I know my grandfather will have taken care of you.’ She knew this to be true, as her grandfather had told her so before he died. ‘Now I’d better get back to the guests. Hopefully they will start leaving soon.’

‘Good idea. I’ll tell my two girls to slow down with the refreshments—that usually works.’ Anna grinned.

Straightening her shoulders, Selina walked back into the main living room that opened out onto a wide terrace that overlooked the bay and noted that a lot of the guests were outside.

She spotted Rion at once. He was taller than everyone else and standing with two men—probably discussing business. From the couple of social events he had taken her to in the past, she knew that was all he ever did.

As she watched she saw him turn as an older grey-haired man joined the group. The man said something and Rion threw back his head and laughed, his hair shimmering black as a raven’s wing in the sun, his teeth shining brilliant white against his olive-toned skin.

A little curl of heat rippled through Selina’s body—because whatever else Rion was, there was no denying he was breathtakingly attractive. She was disgusted with herself for still reacting to the man, and yet she could not look away. But she wished she had as suddenly Lydia appeared and reached up to kiss Rion on the cheek.

Selina stiffened. It was a timely reminder. How had she not noticed Lydia at the funeral? Or the older man whose arm Lydia now casually looped through hers—obviously her long-suffering husband.

Poor fool, Selina thought cynically, her blood turning to ice in her veins. In that moment Rion looked across at her. Coolly she held his gaze, saw the mocking amusement in his eyes as he raised his glass. A gesture of recognition or in invitation to join the group? She didn’t know or care which, and she turned and walked back inside.

She’d been cured of Rion ages ago, and what she had just witnessed in the garden confirmed her immunity. She strolled across to where the owner of the village bar and some of the other locals stood, and joined their group.

An hour later, with the whirring of helicopter blades, the guests began to leave. Selina smiled and listened to fulsome speeches until her jaw ached, and soon there was only Mr Kadiekis and a few villagers, chatting with a relaxed Anna and her daughters.

‘You still here, Rion?’ she asked with a frown as her ex-husband stopped in front of her. But her pulse didn’t so much as flicker. She had assumed he had gone—or to be honest hoped he had … ‘I thought you would have left by now. The gardener said you interrupted your cruise for the funeral. Very noble, but don’t let us delay you any longer,’ she said bluntly.

Rion arched a brow as he leant a broad shoulder against the wall, effectively blocking her view of most of the room.

‘Your concern is touching, Selina, but I am not in any hurry. Obviously you still have an affinity with gardeners because your information is correct—I am taking a break.’

If his crude crack about gardeners was meant to rile her he was wasting his time. She was totally immune to him.

‘Take a tip from me, Rion—a funeral is not a great way to start a holiday. So feel free to leave as soon as you like,’ she said facetiously.

Rion straightened, trying to ease the almost permanent ache in his groin, which he had acquired since seeing Selina on the beach last night, her gorgeous body clad in the sexy white bikini. For an instant a vivid memory filled his mind. She had stood before him once wearing plain white briefs and a white cotton bra, a picture of innocence, her skin flushed and as soft as silk beneath his fingers as he undressed her completely, here on this island. He felt some indefinable emotion flow through him. Regret?

No. He dismissed the thought that swirled in his mind. He did not do emotions. He just wanted Selina again, and he was determined to have her by friendly means or foul. He didn’t care which, so long as she was his soon.

‘I intend to,’ he said. ‘But as you appear to be free of any male companion at the moment, I thought as an old friend you might like to join me on my yacht for a while.’ He lifted a finger and brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. ‘You are no longer a teenager, Selina. You have changed into a feisty and exquisitely beautiful woman. I like the new you,’ he said huskily. ‘And the attraction between us is still there. We could have fun. What do you say?’

Rion’s searching gaze swept over the beautiful face turned up to his. In a perfect scenario Selina would say yes, but he half expected an angry no. Her face revealed nothing. She didn’t so much as blink.

‘Your grandfather’s death must have been stressful for you. A couple of weeks cruising will help you unwind, and we can get reacquainted.’

Still no response. Slowly it dawned on Rion that Selina was not reacting as he’d expected—not reacting at all …

‘It is a very kind offer, but I am not interested, thank you,’ she said politely, her usually expressive eyes oddly opaque.

From the first time they’d met the sexual attraction between them had been instant, and when they’d met again today, after years apart, Rion had recognised the sensual awareness still there when he held Selina, had seen it in her expressive eyes … Yet now he sensed complete indifference—not a reaction he had ever experienced in the women he met—and his jaw clenched in anger and frustration.

How did Selina do that? He wanted to grab her and shake her, but most of all he wanted to be buried deep inside her.

After he had spoken to Kadiekis about the e-mail he’d received he had known immediately that he could use the information to his advantage, so he gave up on friendly and resorted to foul. Any sense of guilt he might have felt for exploiting Selina’s current situation for his own satisfaction was outweighed by what she had done in the past. Nobody got the better of him—in business or otherwise—and got away with it. Few dared to try, but his oh, so innocent little wife had—with a deviousness he had never suspected she possessed. Now it was his turn.

‘Think about it, Selina, and maybe for your own good you will change your mind,’ he suggested silkily.

Selina was going to be his again, and he would make her forget every man she had ever known and enjoy doing it—until he tired of her and threw her out for good …

His dark gaze was shuttered, and Selina heard the threat in his tone, but it did not bother her. ‘Don’t hold your breath,’ she mocked. Rion meant nothing to her now and she turned to walk away, not interested in him or anything he had to say.

Before she could move Mr Kadiekis stopped her.

‘Selina, dear—and Rion.’ He nodded to him. ‘Nice to see you two getting on so well. It will make everything so much easier.’

Make what easier? Selina wondered—and then she had no more time to wonder as the lawyer carried on talking.

‘I don’t want to rush you, Selina, but my helicopter will arrive in less than an hour. So if we go to your grandfather’s study now I can explain his will and answer any queries you may have.’

‘Yes, okay. I’ll just go and get Anna,’ Selina offered.

‘No need—you can give her the relevant information later.’

Selina caught a flicker of unease in the lawyer’s eyes before he took her arm. To her surprise he told Rion to follow them.

She heard Rion agree, but did not see the triumphant glance he shot her as Mr Kadiekis ushered her into the study.

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