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Angry exasperation flashed in his eyes.
‘Why on earth should I not mean it? Of course you are my mistress! Thee mou, you’ve been living with me long enough!’
She started clutching at straws. His English was not perfect. It couldn’t be. It must be that he didn’t understand the implications of the word mistress. She was searching desperately for some comfort, some reassurance…
He took a step towards her, reaching for her.
‘Vanessa, what is this? If that louse Cosmo has upset you, I’m truly sorry. He will never come near you again, I promise.’ His voice was conciliatory, caressing. His eyes washed over her, warm and familiar. ‘You are mine—all mine—you know you are.’
He made to embrace her, all his anger gone now completely. He was Markos again, the Markos she knew…
Or did she?
She stepped back, away from him. Her heart was still racing, eyes huge and uncertain.
‘Your mistress.’ There was flatness in her voice.
Fear.
Markos was just looking at her. Slowly, he nodded.
‘Yes, my mistress. Vanessa, what is this? Why are you being like this? What is happening?’ For a moment he just went on looking at her, searching her face, a frown of incomprehension on his brow.
Vanessa could say nothing. Her throat was too tight. Then, suddenly, Markos’s brows snapped together.
‘My God,’ he breathed abruptly, ‘what else did he say to you? Cosmo Dimistris—what else did he say to you?’
There was a harsh urgency in his voice.
‘N—nothing,’ she made herself answer. She saw his face relax once more as he breathed out. He looked relieved. She wondered at it momentarily, then forgot it. Her heart was still racing.
There has to be a misunderstanding. He can’t understand what that word means in English. He just can’t!
‘So why are you so upset?’
She gazed at him. This was Markos, her own Markos, the man she loved absolutely, completely. She mustn’t be upset. It was just semantics, that was all—a word he didn’t understand in English. It probably didn’t translate properly from the Greek, that was all.
She mustn’t let it get to her!
Deliberately, she took a deep breath. What did a word matter? Nothing—nothing at all compared to what she had with Markos. And that was far too precious to risk by getting stupidly upset by something as irrelevant as a single word.
‘Vanessa?’
His voice had changed minutely. The slightest trace of an edge of impatience was back in it.
She swallowed. No, she wasn’t going to be upset. It was stupid of her, unnecessary, idiotic. And it was all the fault of that creepy friend of his and his repulsive proposition. Markos was nothing like that! He was totally different—affectionate and considerate and caring.
No wonder she loved him as much as she did.
Her voice choked as she answered, ‘I’m sorry. Oh, Markos, I’m sorry. I’m being an idiot! Making a fuss over nothing. Please forgive me.’
He opened his arms to her and she went into them, feeling them fold around her, safe and strong. The man she loved.
‘Foolish girl,’ he murmured, and started to kiss her. And in moments she had forgotten everything except her bliss in being in his embrace.
CHAPTER SIX
MARKOS STIRRED. He didn’t want to get up, but he knew he could not go on lying here with Vanessa in his arms any longer. The only reason he was at the apartment at this hour was to say goodbye to her. He was flying this evening to Melbourne on business, but only for two days, and the trip would be so gruelling he was not going to subject Vanessa to it for such a short time. When he had to, he could do without her.
