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'Have you gone mad?' Betsy screeched in horror at the scene before her and hauled unavailingly at Cristos' suit jacket. 'Let go of him!'
'Drop me… preferably all in one piece,' Rory advised drily, but his complexion was as colourless as the white painted wall behind him.
'Cristos!' Betsy exclaimed fiercely.
Cristos lowered the smaller man to the floor again, backed off a step, twitched his cuffs straight while hoping that his target would do the manly thing and take a swing at him.
'I could have you charged with assault,' Rory informed him instead, straightening his tie.
Disappointed, Cristos thrust the door wider. 'Get out…'
Trembling, Betsy gulped in a sustaining breath. She was appalled by Cristos' conduct. Rory hovered, visibly keen to be gone but reluctant to back down in front of another man.
'I'll be fine… it'll be better if you leave.' She was quick to give Rory his escape clause.
Cristos stood at the window. He was thrown by his own loss of control and shaken by his very sincere desire to hammer Rory to a pulp. He prided himself on his self-discipline. He could not understand what was wrong with him. Nothing had felt right since he'd returned home and all too many things roused him to impatience and annoyance.
His grandfather, Patras, had been blunt. 'You're like an angry bear looking for a fight. When you walk into a room, 1 feel 1 should take cover. What happened to you on that island?'
'I want you to leave… I'm not talking to you,' Betsy said doggedly, breaking into his ruminations.
Cristos devoured her in a long, lingering scrutiny.
She had lost weight. Her eyes looked too big for her pale face. Her jeans and shirt were downright drab. But she was one of those rare women whose pure nattural beauty would always outshine any frame and any physical flaw. Her unhappiness was also as apparent to him as his own seething frustration. 'What was Mr Sad doing here with you?'
An embarrassed flush lit Betsy's cheeks. On the island, Cristos had got chapter and verse on Rory's transfer of affections to Gemma out of her. It was, when she thought about it, the only personal topic he had pursued with the slightest interest.
'Rory and Gemma are having problems… he wanted someone to talk to-'
'I shouldn't think their problems will be solved by your personal intervention,' Cristos spelt out with contemptuous clarity.
'You're misjudging me,' Betsy murmured tightly, but ironically she was content for him to continue believing that she was still keen on Rory. While he believed that, he was unlikely to suspect the much more humiliating truth. 'And if you won't leave, I'm going out.'
'I want you to give me five minutes… that's all.' Cristos sought and held her evasive gaze and finally she jerked her chin in grudging agreement.
Restive as a jungle cat on the prowl, he paced across the room and, while he wasn't looking at her, she took the opportunity to feast her eyes on him. No. matter how angry and bitter she was, she still craved him with every wretched fibre of her being.
Cristos spread fluid hands in a fatalistic arc. 'We're good together, pethi mou. 1 have missed you-'
'The sex… that's what you missed. You'll survive,' Betsy countered stonily.
'I miss your company almost as much. I have never said that to a woman before.' Cristos surveyed her as though he was expecting her to be so impressed she would pass out at his feet.
'You're engaged. You're not free to miss me.' Snatching up her fleece jacket and her keys, Betsy opened the door.
Cristos caught her hand in his. 'I won't quit…1 can't quit. 1 want you. As my mistress, you would have everything.'
'Except the right to call you mine-' 'No woman has that privilege-'
'Except the right to walk down the street with you and be introduced to your friends as an equal.' Her voice had got thin and shrill and she was ashamed that she was actually answering him as if he had offered her a normal relationship.
What was normal about a guy who in all seriousness offered you the hallowed position of mistress in his life? And not in a tone of apology? He was spoilt rotten, she thought with fierce bitterness. So many women must have said yes to Cristos. His fiancée was equally to blame for giving him the freedom to do as he liked. He was rich, successful, breathtakingly handsome and fantastic in bed. Lots of women would bend the rules for him. A good few of those same women must have been as foolish as Betsy had been at the outset of their affair: quietly hopeful that his anti-love and -commitment warning was just defensive whitewash. She had learned the hard way that she was dealing with a cool and ruthless womaniser.
'Betsy… '
Betsy trailed her fingers free of his hold. 'Stop saying my name like it's something special because you treated me as if my feelings were of no account. 1 wasn't a person to you-'
Hard golden eyes challenged hers. 'That's untrue-' 'Then explain why you never even asked what type of business 1 was planning to set up? Classic car restoration, by the way! Or why I'm in the job I'm in. You cheated me too,' she condemned in fiery addition. 'I had the right to know that you were engaged to another woman. I would never have got mixed up with you if I'd known that-'
'Theos mou… ' The merest hint of discomfited colour emphasising the sculpted slant of his superb cheekbones, Cristos vented an angry laugh of disagreement. 'Neither of us was able to fight the desire we felt for each other-'
'You didn't even try-'
'For your information, 1 walked away the first time 1 saw you,' Cristos reminded her furiously" lean, strong face taut. 'You were a chauffeur… do you really think 1 was keen to pull you when I realised that?'
'Oh, you patronising, snobbish jerk!' Enraged by that admission, Betsy stalked out onto the landing and headed down the stairs. 'Pull the door after you!' she called over her shoulder.
Above her the bedsit door slammed and Cristos strode in pursuit. 'I was not patronising you, I was being honest. Since when has it been a crime to be honest?' he demanded, following her out onto the street.
'It's a hanging offence when you've got no diplomacy and an exaggerated idea of your own importance!' Betsy launched back at full volume. 'And how dare you refer to yourself as honest? You were deliberately, sneakily, calculatingly secretive about the fact that you were engaged!'
Impervious to the fact that his bodyguards were open-mouthed with astonishment at the spectacle being acted out in front of them,. Cristos drew level with Betsy. He was in a black fury that consumed all awareness of his surroundings. 'I won't phone you again,' he bit out.
'Promises… promises… ' Betsy shot him a gleaming look of catlike provocation.
'I won't come here again either,' he gritted in a wrathful undertone. 'Next time you will come to me-'
'Only in your dreams!' she swore, stalking round the comer into the next street.
He was a step ahead of her. He splayed one hand against the wall to prevent her moving on and the other behind her. With an exaggerated sigh belied by the brightness of her gaze, she slumped back against the bricks. 'Haven't you had enough yet?' she asked, shamelessly, helplessly exhilarated by the cut and thrust of fighting with him.
'Nowhere near enough… ' Scorching golden eyes assailed hers and the equivalent of an electric shock triggered inside her.,
'Meaning?' Furious as she was with him, she was mesmerised.
Hands braced either side of her, he lowered his arrogant dark head and pried her lips apart in a kiss so hot she saw flames and sparks and inwardly burned.
Cristos lifted his head again, his stunning gaze radiating primal male satisfaction. 'I can wait, pethi mou. You'll come to me…'
Betsy walked on down the street on legs that were threatening to fold under her. She felt as if she were leaving part of herself behind. She also felt almost dizzy with rage. He was turning her into a split personality. She hated him but at the same time she craved him like an addictive drug. Furious tears prickled behind her eyes and she blinked them back, angry with herself for being so weak. She would get over
him, she told herself. After all, she had managed to get over Rory without even noticing her achievement.
The following day when Betsy finished work, she found Gemma waiting for her outside Imperial Limousines. Her sister had a tight defensive set to her pretty face that made Betsy's heart sink.
