Read the book: «The Greek's Chosen Wife»

LynneGraham
The Greek’s Chosen Wife

A Mediterranean Marriage

TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON

AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG

STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID

PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND

We’re delighted to announce that

A

Mediterranean

Marriage

is taking place in

Harlequin Presents^®

—and you are invited!

Imagine blue skies, an azure sea,

a beautiful landscape and the hot sun.

What a perfect place to get married!

But although all ends well for these couples,

their route to happiness is filled with emotion

and passion. Follow a couple’s journey in the

latest book from this inviting miniseries.

Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

About the Author

PROLOGUE

NIKOLOS ANGELIS STUDIED his father in rampant disbelief. ‘You’re not serious. You can’t be serious. We own one of the biggest companies in Greece!’

Symeon, a handsome man with silvering dark hair, was not looking his ebullient best. His complexion was grey and heavy lines of exhaustion marked his features. ‘I took a gamble and it didn’t pay off. In fact, it was a disaster. The company is overstretched and the bank is getting very nervous. They made me pledge everything we possess but they’re still not happy. If they pull the plug now, we’ll lose the lot!’

Nikolos said nothing. Everything? Even the family home? He was so angry that he did not trust himself to speak. His grandfather, Orestes, had taught him that a man should put the honour and security of his family first. While the old man had lived the family fortune had been in safe, protective hands. But Symeon Angelis didn’t operate that way. Even though he was in his fifties, he was still desperate to prove that he could wheel and deal as successfully as his legendary father and he had lost millions pursuing high-risk deals.

‘If it’s any consolation,’ Symeon muttered heavily, ‘you were right about the Arnott development being too good to be true.’

Nikolos swung round, stung beyond bearing by that admission. ‘You bought in even after the Kutras brothers warned you to stay clear?’

Symeon Angelis winced and gave his eldest son a rueful look. ‘I thought they were trying to corner all the action for themselves.’

Nikolos ground his even white teeth together in silence. He did not allow himself to look in his parent’s direction. He was ashamed of the fierce contempt he was feeling. Symeon was a good man, a good father, a good husband. He was universally well-liked and respected but his intellect was not powerful and he was a lousy entrepreneur. Nikolos, on the other hand, had devoted his spare time as a teenager to some highly profitable trading in stocks and shares that had made him a millionaire before he even left school. To stand by powerless and watch his less clever and shrewd father stumble and make stupid mistakes was, for Nikolos, a punishment of no mean order.

‘I’ll be frank with you. This may be our darkest hour but we have been offered an escape clause,’ the older man confided in a taut undertone. ‘It came from a surprising source. In fact, I was astonished…However, I said it couldn’t be done. It wouldn’t be right—’

Mastering his impatience, Nikolos rested grim eyes on Symeon. ‘What wouldn’t be right?’

His father seemed reluctant to meet his son’s enquiring scrutiny. ‘I can’t ask you to make such a sacrifice at your age. You’re only twenty-two—’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

Symeon Angelis expelled his breath in a hiss. ‘Theo Demakis approached me and offered to bail us out.’

Nikolos vented a startled laugh of incredulity. ‘Theo Demakis? Are you winding me up? Since when did we move in such exalted circles?’

‘It seems that we could move in those circles if we wanted to,’ Symeon murmured with the air of a man choosing his words with extreme care.

His son’s lean, bronzed face stayed unimpressed. ‘Demakis is as cold as a corpse. If you get into bed with him you’ll wake up with a knife stuck between your ribs.’

‘In other circumstances, that might have been my attitude as well. But Theo is offering a family connection rather than just a business transaction.’

At those words, Nikolos fell very still. ‘You can’t mean what I think you mean…’

The older man flushed a mottled pink. ‘I can see where Demakis is coming from—’

‘I think your view must be fogged—’

Refusing to be discouraged, Symeon pressed on. ‘Theo’s only son must be dead ten years now, he’s on his third wife and he still doesn’t have another child. He only has his English granddaughter. He wants Prudence to marry a Greek boy from a good background and that’s not surprising when she’s half-English and illegitimate into the bargain. Demakis is an old-fashioned man and he’s offering an old-fashioned deal.’

An appalled inability to credit what he was hearing kept Nikolos silent.

‘If you married her and there was a child, the world would be your oyster,’ Symeon breathed tightly. ‘Yes, it would save us, too, but you’re ambitious and she’d be the equivalent of a golden goose. To talk of such an arrangement in terms of cold, hard cash is vulgar but it is only right that I should draw your attention to the very obvious benefits.’

Nikolos closed his eyes, lashes long and black as silk fans momentarily hitting his high cheekbones. He was disgusted by his father’s willingness to consider such an arrangement. Prudence, whom his friends had christened Pudding for her love of baklava pastries, was to be his wife? He was shocked and outraged by the suggestion. He hardly knew her, although he had on several occasions intervened when he saw her being ignored and insulted at social events. Her lack of Greek and her trusting nature had made her a soft target, for no matter what was said to her she would assume it was pleasant and she would smile.

Her inability to defend herself had infuriated Nikolos. He hated bullies and would have done as much for any helpless creature too stupid to look after itself in a hostile world. But had those trivial displays of good manners, those minor acts of compassion on his part, led to the gruesome offer of Prudence’s hand in marriage? That daunting suspicion made his lean, strong face clench hard. When he walked into a room, she lit up like a Christmas tree. Had Prudence decided to tell her fabulously wealthy grandfather just how much she fancied Nikolos Angelis?

‘Papa…’ Nikolos’s sister Kosma’s distraught voice cut through the simmering silence from the French window that opened out onto the terrace. ‘I know I shouldn’t have been listening and I’ll die if we become poor but you can’t ask Nik to marry Theo Demakis’s granddaughter. She’s a fat cow and plain as a pig!’

‘How dare you hide behind the door and eavesdrop on a private conversation?’ Embarrassment made Symeon Angelis leap up in a wrathful response that his much-indulged daughter had rarely witnessed. ‘Leave us—’

‘But it’s true,’ the pretty teenager wailed, standing her ground and defying his authority. ‘Nikolos would have to put a paper bag over her head to eat at the same table, never mind anything more personal. She’s ugly and he’s so handsome—’

‘Get out,’ Nikolos told his kid sister with ferocious, cutting cool.

The older man watched his daughter retreat tearfully at her big brother’s bidding and released a regretful sigh. ‘Of course, I’ve never seen the girl. If she’s that bad, Kosma would have a point. I couldn’t ask you to marry her.’

Nikolos bit back a sardonic laugh. That this was the only objection his parent could see to such a revoltingly mercenary proposition spoke volumes for his father’s state of mind. Symeon Angelis was fighting despair and ready to clutch at any straw that might drag him back from the abyss of financial ruin. Nikolos asked himself how he could stand back and allow that to happen to his parents and his four siblings.

Yet at twenty-two years old, he felt that his own life had barely begun. He was no innocent though, he conceded grudgingly. Even though he was still at university, he had acquired a reputation as a womaniser. It was true that he pursued pleasure with single-minded zeal. He worked hard and he played hard and he rarely slept alone. He didn’t do long-term and he didn’t do faithful. He had yet to meet a girl who would not accept those conditions. But he still could not begin to contemplate the prospect of becoming a husband or, worse still, a father. Indeed, the very concept of being forced into such a heavy commitment for his family’s benefit filled him with seething anger and bitterness. But he also knew that his grandfather, Orestes, would have laid down his own life to protect his nearest and dearest…

‘You remind me of my late son and his mother.’ Theo Demakis studied his granddaughter with cold derision. ‘You have the same puppy-dog eyes, the same scared smile. You’ve got no backbone and weakness disgusts me.’

‘If I was weak, I would have gone home the day after I arrived.’ Prudence tilted her chin, her soft blue eyes staying steady while beneath her loose cotton shirt she could feel her heart beating so fast with fear that she felt sick.

His unpleasantness continually appalled her. It was three weeks since she had come to stay on the older man’s magnificent estate and every day had been an ordeal. Having flown out to Greece with naïve hopes of getting to know and love the grandfather she had never met, she had instead been forced to accept that he was a cold, malevolent man with not an atom of affection for her and a vicious tongue.

Theo Demakis laughed at her attempt to stand up to him. ‘Do you take me for a fool? Why do you think I invited you to visit me? You’ve taken everything I’ve thrown at you because your mother’s on the booze again and the bailiffs are back at the door!’

Dismay peeling away the composure she was struggling to maintain, Prudence could no longer hold his derisive gaze. As she dropped her head in shame-faced embarrassment, a curtain of chestnut-brown hair fell forward to screen her rounded profile and she looked very much her nineteen years.

‘Am I right?’ the older man sneered.

‘Yes…’ The admission almost choked Prudence, for she would have loved to tell him that he was wrong and that her mother, Trixie, had cleaned up her act and turned her life around. Sadly, that wasn’t possible and her grandfather’s contemptuous satisfaction made the humiliation of her mother’s frailties sting even more. She suspected that he was congratulating himself on his foresight almost two decades earlier when he had told his son to ditch his pregnant girlfriend.

‘What a winner Apollo picked to father my only grandchild with! He had the pick of the world’s heiresses. He could have brought a royal princess home as his bride,’ Theo Demakis growled in disgust. ‘Even then I was rich as Midas and money is the equal of any fancy pedigree. But my son wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, was he? He picked a woman who was a lush, a spendthrift and a whore—’

Her face flaming, Prudence surged upright. ‘I won’t sit here listening to you talking about my mother like that!’

The older man surveyed her with ironic amusement. ‘What choice do you have? You need my money to dig her out of trouble.’

At that blunt declaration, Prudence lost colour. She lowered her head and swallowed hard on her angry pain. Slowly, heavily, she sank back down in her seat again. As she had learned at an early age, penury and dignity rarely went hand in hand. In any case, Theo Demakis was right and the truth was not very pleasant: she did need his money. Her mother was deeply in debt, drinking heavily and currently facing court action over unpaid bills. But Prudence was convinced that if the stress of the older woman’s financial problems was removed, Trixie could be persuaded to enter a clinic and go through rehab again. Painful as it was to accept, Prudence reflected with a sinking sensation in her tummy, Demakis money could well make the difference between her mother living or dying. Years of alcohol abuse had dangerously weakened Trixie’s health.

The older man dealt his silent granddaughter a harsh look of impatience. ‘I brought you to Greece only because I believe you can be of use to me. It’ll be interesting to see if you have the brains to recognise a lucky break when it’s on the table in front of you. ‘

Her brow indented, Prudence was bewildered by that statement.

‘What do you think of Nikolos Angelis?’ Theo asked with the teeth-baring smile that sent a shiver down most people’s backs.

The disconcerting sound of that particular name shattered Prudence’s composure. Blushing like mad in her confusion, she averted her attention from her grandfather without even noticing the chilling curl of his thin mouth. ‘He’s…he’s kind,’ she framed finally, biting back a whole host of other, more enthusiastic words which she felt would have exposed her to the older man’s derision.

How could she possibly speak freely about Nikolos without revealing the depth of her feelings for him? She was in love for the first time in her life but that was her secret and she had no intention of sharing it with anyone. After all, Nikolos had the dark, dangerous beauty of a fallen angel and she was overweight and plain. It was a hopeless passion and she knew it.

‘How do you think Nikolos will handle poverty? At this very moment, the Angelis family are facing financial ruin. They’ll lose their homes, their cars, they’ll have to take the younger children out of their fancy schools and that will just be the beginning of their sufferings. After more than a century of wealth and ease, his parents will find it very difficult to adapt to such heavy losses.’ Theo watched the surprise and immediate concern blossoming in her expressive eyes. ‘But you have it within your power to save them all from that unhappy fate.’

‘How could I help them?’ Prudence exclaimed, shaken by the picture he had drawn.

‘By helping me. If you agree to marry the Angelis boy I’ll rescue his family and also take care of all your mother’s little problems. I will be very generous to all parties concerned and I am not a generous man as a rule.’

Prudence stared back at him in wide-eyed astonishment. As he spoke, her soft full mouth had parted several times as though she intended to break into speech but each time innate caution had made her hold back. ‘Me…agree to marry Nikolos Angelis? How on earth could that come about? It sounds totally mad…and I don’t understand how that would be helping you,’ she framed shakily.

‘There’s method in my madness.’ The portly older man poured a measure of brandy into a crystal glass. ‘I want a male heir, but with the exception of your father my own efforts in that direction have been unsuccessful. However, you’re young and healthy and so is the Angelis boy. If even half of the rumours about his virility are true, it shouldn’t take him very long to achieve the required result.’

His coarse laugh made agonised colour well up below his granddaughter’s skin. ‘I can’t believe you’re talking to me like this,’ she protested. ‘For goodness’ sake, Nikolos wouldn’t marry me…he wouldn’t want me—’

‘It’s not a matter of wanting, which is just as well, isn’t it? You’re no beauty,’ her grandfather pointed out with a casual cruelty that turned her white. ‘But, believe me, given the choice between marrying you and watching his precious family lose everything, Nikolos Angelis will take you as his bride—’

‘No…’ she muttered sickly, her hands tightly clenched in on themselves, for she was humiliated beyond bearing by his taunts.

‘He will. He is not a fool like his father. He’s strong and very loyal to his family. As for you, you do have Demakis blood in your veins and I’m giving you both a wonderful opportunity.’

‘That’s not how I see it…you’re talking about blackmailing Nikolos into marrying me!’

The older man fixed his steely gaze on her. ‘I dislike wild accusations. There is no blackmail,’ he specified with cold clarity. ‘I’m offering a helping hand in return for a favour. Turn your back on my generosity if you wish.’

‘It’s not a question of me doing that. Just please help me help my mother,’ she begged him in desperation.

‘Accept that I don’t care whether your mother goes to prison or drinks herself to death,’ Theo Demakis fielded drily. ‘Why would I care? What is she to me?’

‘Trixie might not be in the mess she’s in now if she hadn’t had such a battle to survive when I was a kid!’

His scorn unconcealed, Theo Demakis checked his watch. ‘Look out of the window…’

After a moment’s hesitation, Prudence scrambled up and stared down at the pristine gardens. She wondered what she was supposed to see when her mind was in so much turmoil that she was incapable of concentration. Belatedly she noticed the taxi waiting by the imposing front door.

‘That taxi is waiting to take you to the airport.’

Prudence was as startled by that announcement as he could have wished. ‘Now…you want me to leave?’

‘Your luggage has already been packed. If you say no to marrying the Angelis boy, I will send you home to the UK immediately and you will never hear from me again. Make your mind up and do it quickly.’

A sense of panic gripped Prudence. ‘Can’t you be reasonable about this? It’s so unfair to spring this on me and demand—’

The older man vented a cruel laugh of disagreement. ‘I think it unfair that you should show no appreciation for the fabulous future I am prepared to buy for you. You have your choice. Run back to your mother and see how grateful she is when she learns that you could have made her financially secure for life!’

Prudence flinched at that crack, for she knew that Trixie would consider such a reward her due after the sacrifices her single parenthood had entailed. In fact she clearly saw what her grandfather was doing and recognised the pressure he was bringing to bear on her. She considered herself strong and resilient, but the certainty of his cold, unforgiving malice frightened her and plunged her into despair. She knew that he meant what he said. He really didn’t care what happened to her and he would not give her the funds she needed to support her mother unless she did as he asked.

‘This is crazy,’ she muttered frantically. ‘Nikolos would never agree to marry me in a million years! For goodness’ sake, he’s dating Cassia Morikis…’

Theo Demakis shrugged. ‘So he’s sleeping with the Morikis girl. What’s that got to do with anything?’

Prudence blinked. ‘I…I just thought that if he loves her—’

‘So what if he does? That’s nothing to do with you. He will decide his own options. He’s Greek to the backbone. Believe me, family honour and practical, material considerations will be of much greater importance to him than the current slut in his bed.’

His cold-blooded indifference to her revelation and his careless reference to Nikolos’s sex life shook Prudence to the core.

‘Are you planning to take that cab ride to the airport?’ Theo prompted with impatience.

Prudence went rigid, stress flaring through her small frame like petrol thrown on a fire. Nikolos Angelis would never agree to marry her, she thought feverishly. The very idea of them as a couple was ludicrous. Cassia Morikis was a very beautiful girl: tall and slender as a reed, she had glorious platinum-blonde hair and dainty, doll-like features. But why was she working herself up over something that was most unlikely to ever happen? Why was she daring to inflame her grandfather’s temper with her objections? She had to keep her mother’s needs centre stage in her mind; Trixie had first call on her loyalty and concern. Surely she could safely leave Nikolos to refuse the marriage proposition out of hand for both of them? Her grandfather could scarcely blame her for her prospective bridegroom’s reluctance!

‘Answer me,’ Theo Demakis urged flatly.

‘All right…yes, I’ll stay.’

‘I never doubted it. I was really quite touched by the romantic glow I saw in your face when I mentioned the boy’s name.’ As a stricken look of pained embarrassment filled Prudence’s eyes, the older man laughed and tossed back his drink. ‘I feel like Eros, the god of love. My wealth will be your dowry and at least it will save you from the humiliation of being left on the shelf.’

That night, Prudence lay sleepless in her opulent guest-room bed. The huge villa was silent. From the moment she had arrived in Greece, to a world of luxury and privilege that was as foreign to her as the hot climate, she had felt as though she was living in someone else’s dream. Not a pleasant dream, either; more of a nightmare where everything—even the way people behaved—was unfamiliar. She had done her utmost to please her grandfather. That had meant stifling her natural shyness and accepting the social invitations that he had organised in advance of her arrival. Eirene, the teenaged daughter of one of Theo’s friends, had acted as her companion for all of those painful outings into high society.

Prudence had stuck out like a sore thumb at those exclusive gatherings. Eirene belonged to an élite set of rich and spoiled young people who dressed in the latest fashion, went wild playing reckless games at parties and still contrived to behave as though all the world was a bore. Prudence had found them silly and superficial and the females had been horribly bitchy to her. Time and time again she had squirmed behind her fixed smile, never daring to retaliate, knowing she could not risk offending anyone who might complain about her to her grandfather. Not once had she allowed herself to forget the central issue of her mother’s desperate plight.

Trixie Hill had been a well-known catwalk model when she met Apollo Demakis and fell in love with him. The young Greek playboy had showered her with expensive gifts and asked her to marry him. For over a year Prudence’s fun-loving parents had jetted round the world from one party to the next. Trusting that her lover would soon be her husband, Trixie had put her career on hold. But when Trixie had fallen pregnant, Apollo Demakis had come under pressure from his father and had swiftly reneged on his promises. When Trixie refused to agree to an abortion, he had ditched her. But not before he reminded the mother of his unborn child that she had not been a virgin when they met and that she had acquired an unsavoury reputation from openly living with him before marriage.

In remembrance of those final insults which her unlucky mother had endured, Prudence’s soft, full mouth curled with distaste in the darkness. The father she had never met had been a hypocrite, a liar and a creep. Trixie had had to go to court to prove her baby’s paternity and after a lengthy battle had been granted a pitiful amount of child support which had frequently gone unpaid. Was it any wonder that her mother had started drinking too much? At the age of seven, Prudence had had to go into foster care for a while. A newspaper had run a sad story about Trixie’s meteoric fall from fame and Apollo Demakis had been embarrassed into taking steps to ensure that his ex-girlfriend and his daughter did not end up homeless and living apart again. An old farmhouse in the depths of the English countryside had been assigned to Trixie and Prudence for their use. Trixie might loathe country life but Prudence loved it and she had often had cause to be grateful for the security of a roof over their heads that could neither be sold nor taken from them.

Having also lived through her mother’s many tumultuous affairs of the heart, Prudence believed that she cherished few illusions about men. If she had worn a romantic glow while thinking about Nikolos Angelis it could only have been the result of foolish, self-indulgent daydreams. After all, she was painfully aware that fairy stories didn’t happen in real life. Rich men most often married rich women. If a rich man married a poor woman she would have some redeeming feature like stunning beauty to even the balance. But then in her unfortunate mother’s case even beauty hadn’t worked a miracle. In the same way gorgeous men tended to marry gorgeous women and Nikolos was drop-dead dazzling.

The girls in his set mobbed him, hung on his every word, flirted like mad with him, fought over him—in short, acted like sex-starved tarts. He could hardly avoid knowing the extent of his own pulling power. Of course, he had been spoilt by the awe, admiration and attention he commanded. A bus load of generous good fairies seemed to have blessed his privileged birth. He was highly intelligent, incredibly arrogant and impossibly proud. No more impervious to his raw, charismatic attraction than any other girl, Prudence had been wildly impressed by him as well. But what had tipped her from having a harmless fascination with his incredible looks into falling hopelessly in love was the entirely unexpected streak of stubborn gallantry that Nikolos had revealed.

On more than one occasion, Nikolos had come to Prudence’s rescue when his friends decided to make her the butt of their cruel sense of humour. Why? Prudence’s companion, Eirene, thoroughly resented having to take Prudence everywhere she went. The other girl’s animosity had been expressed by nasty jokes and comments that targeted Prudence’s lack of attraction, her weight, her cheap clothing and her apparent stupidity. Eirene’s friends had soon jumped on the same bandwagon.

That Nikolos Angelis should come to her aid with his lightning-fast stabs of wit and create a distraction to deflect unfriendly attention from her had truly staggered Prudence. After all, he had still contrived to act most of the time as if she was invisible and utterly beneath his exalted notice. But that wholly disconcerting display of essential male protectiveness had touched Prudence deeply. Nikolos might be hatefully arrogant, domineering and superior, but he was also the bold, living, breathing essence of tough, unapologetic masculinity. She could not believe that he would accept the demeaning matrimonial lifebelt that Theo Demakis planned to throw in his direction.

Within forty-eight hours, when she was summoned to her grandfather’s study, Prudence learnt that she was very much mistaken on that score.

‘Come with me.’ The older man’s heavy features wore a nauseating expression of triumph. ‘Nikolos Angelis is waiting for you in the drawing room. I met with his father and the lawyers this morning. All the essentials have been agreed. Your mother’s debts will be settled and I will advance funds for a private rehabilitation programme for her. You and Nikolos will be husband and wife within the month.’

‘Husband and…w-wife?’ Shock ripped through Prudence in a blinding wave. Her grandfather had been right and she had been wrong; Nikolos was willing to marry her to save his family from impoverishment. Did he feel that he had as little choice as she had? Given the option, Prudence knew she could not turn her back on her needy mother, leaving Trixie to sink as she surely would without support and treatment. It finally dawned on her that both she and Nikolos were well and truly trapped by loyalty and good intentions and her heart sank, for, just as she was quite sure that he did not want to marry her, she was no more eager to become his unwanted wife.

‘What a very fortunate young woman you are! Don’t keep your bridegroom waiting.’ Smirking with derisive amusement, Theo Demakis urged his reluctant granddaughter across the hall towards the drawing room. ‘Now we’ve caught him, don’t let your prize slip the net!’

The instant Prudence entered the large, over-furnished room, she collided with shimmering golden eyes and knew beyond doubt that Nikolos had heard her grandfather’s scornful taunt. Even while she tried to make herself look away, another less sensible part of her wanted to savour every aspect of his appearance. Alas, the well-cut dark suit he wore teamed with a white shirt made him look distinctly intimidating. She had never seen him in such formal clothing: he might have been dressed to attend a funeral, she thought dismally, scanning the stony impassivity of his demeanour. Nerves made her stumble over the corner of a rug and bump her hip on a small table. She felt hideously like a baby elephant penned up in a confined space.

‘Oh, my goodness…sorry,’ she muttered, righting the rocking table with a frantic hand.

Nikolos had noticed that before; she said sorry even when she didn’t do anything wrong. He surveyed her from the floor up with rigorous thoroughness. In true Demakis style, she had not grown up but out and she barely reached the top of his chest; she was small and dumpy. She wore drab layers like an old lady: a brown skirt that almost reached her ankles, a long, loose white over-shirt, a black knee-length wrap cardigan. It was impossible to tell what lay beneath all that cloaking fabric. He imagined telling her to take it all off so that he could see exactly what he was getting. Her grandfather wouldn’t object. Demakis was a vicious bastard. Even so, the older man had spelt out the grim reality that his granddaughter was in love and eager to marry the object of her affections.

‘Do you have to stare at me?’ Prudence breathed tautly.

‘I never took the time to look at you before.’ Nikolos continued to study her with unapologetic intensity. She was going to be his wife. She might as well get the message now that he would do exactly as he liked and that baklava was off the menu for the foreseeable future. She was not fat, he told himself, just a little rounded and solid. He continued to mentally score her attributes. Lots and lots of long, shiny chestnut-brown hair the colour of an English autumn. OK, a positive at last. Skin with the flush of a peach and perfect—another plus. Eyes that were the soft blue of a winter sky and full of unhappiness.