Page 2 of Gamble On Passion

Her eyes widened in shock. 'How...?' She stopped herself, but it was too late.

'It doesn't take a genius to work it out. He's the only new male in this crowd, and gorgeous with it. I watched him myself when he walked in, but I could tell instantly that he's not for me, more's the pity.'

Jacy burst out laughing; she couldn't help it. The idea of Simon seducing Leo: now that really did appeal. Draining her glass, she settled back in the chair and pre­pared to be entertained by Simon's outrageous stories for the rest of the evening. But some inner radar told her the instant Leo Kozakis walked into the room. She couldn't actually see him from the depths of her chair, but she had the uncanny feeling he was watching her.

Someone put the stereo on and the centre of the room gradually filled with swaying bodies, and then she saw him; he was dancing with a tall blonde. Dancing wasn't the word, she thought disgustedly. The woman had her arms around his neck, and Leo's hands were settled in­timately over the blonde's buttocks. Ten years hadn't changed him at all. He was still the lecherous swine he had always been.

He looked over his partner's shoulder, his dark eyes catching Jacy watching him; and to her chagrin his lips curved in a knowing smile. She felt the blood surge in her cheeks and quickly looked away. Years ago she had ' thought herself in love with Leo Kozakis. A few magical weeks on the island of Corfu; the sun, the sea and the sand; a vibrant, tanned male body...

Jacy drained her glass in one gulp, dismissing the memory from her mind. Of course it had only been a childish crush, and she had quickly recovered; but the hurt and humiliation still lingered. Abruptly getting to her feet, she caught Simon's hand in hers. 'Come on, Simon, let's find the bar and have another drink. Tonight I think I'm going to need it,' she concluded as

with Simon's arm around her shoulder they circumvented the dancing couples to arrive at the makeshift bar set up in one corner of the lounge.

Grasping her second gin and tonic, Jacy deliberately kept her back to the room and drank the potent spirit much too fast. But she had the uncanny feeling that Leo Kozakis's dark eyes were watching her, and that he was laughing.

'Take it easy, Jacy,' Simon remonstrated as she held out her empty glass for a refill. 'An hour or so and I'll take you home.'

'Get lost, Simon. I want to talk to my friend,' Liz's laughing voice interrupted.

Jacy sighed, and sipped her drink, eyeing Liz over the top of her glass. 'Lovely party, Liz,' she said politely, the warning in her dark golden eyes telling her friend more plainly than words that she was not going to discuss Mr Kozakis.

'Don't try and intimidate me with your best "claim refused" frown. I want some answers. A: when were you ever a reporter? and B: how did you meet Leo? And the biggy: were you an item? That will do for starters.'

Jacy's first thought was to refuse to answer. Then, whether it was the drink or because she had finally re­gained her self-control, she thought, Why the hell not? Liz was her friend and Leo Kozakis meant nothing to her.

'I was never a reporter: that was a particular miscon­ception of Mr Kozakis'; something he is prone to. As for how I know him, I met him when I was eighteen and on holiday in Corfu for the summer. As for being an item, as you so crudely put it, Liz: what do you think?' she drawled scornfully, her glance slanting over the delicate features of her friend's face. Without noticing the warning look in her sparkling eyes, Jacy continued, 'Give me some credit! The man's affairs are legion and very well documented by the Press; the swine's repu­tation is as black as his hair.'

'Does that mean that now I'm going grey my repu­tation will improve accordingly?' a deep mocking voice drawled in Jacy's ear.

She swung around, the glass slipping from her hand, and with lightning reflexes it was caught by the man standing in front of her, only a few drops splashing on his immaculate business suit.

I did try to warn you,' Liz murmured as she faded away into the crowd.

Jacy stood as though turned to stone, the colour flooding into her pale cheeks.

'No answer, Jacy; but then you always had the ability to remain mute when it suited you, I seem to remember,' he declared hardly. His dark eyes blatantly surveyed her, from the top of her head, where her long golden blonde hair was swept up into a coronet of curls, down over the swan-like arch of her neck to her bare shoulders. They lingered on the soft curve of her breasts, lovingly cupped by the smooth red velvet strapless bodice of her dress, and continued down to her narrow waist, the round curve of her hips, and the long length of her legs, exaggerated by the spike-heeled red evening sandals. 'I must admit,' he confessed, his dark glance flicking back to her flushed face, 'my memory of your delightful body does you an injustice. You have certainly matured into a stunning woman, Jacy.'

Recovering from her initial dismay at his intervention into the conversation, Jacy was doing some appraising of her own. She had forgotten just how shockingly mas­culine he was. His navy pin-striped jacket fitted per­fectly over his wide shoulders, and the matching trousers, belted low on his waist, clung to his muscular thighs. Slowly she raised her head to look up into his handsome face. His pale blue silk shirt contrasted sharply with the bronzed skin. His mouth, the bottom lip fuller than the top, curled back over perfect white teeth in a mocking smile that as she tilted her head further she realised didn't reach the dark brown, almost black eyes. His black hair was going grey, she realised in surprise; in fact, two silver wings brushed back from his temples. The shock of black curls that she remembered falling over his broad forehead were now cut fashionably short and were also liberally sprinkled with grey. But then he must be almost forty. When she'd first met him he'd been twenty-nine. Ten years! It didn't seem possible.

'Sorry I'm not dressed for dinner, but will I pass?' Leo demanded mockingly.

Pass? He knew damn well he would, Jacy thought bit­terly. But it didn't stop her too-fair skin from betraying her now as it had when she was a teenager. The blush that had started on her pale cheeks suffused the whole of her body. 'You can pass me by any time. In fact, I would prefer it,' she managed to respond cuttingly, proud of the cold tone in her usually husky voice.

'Now, is that any way to greet an old friend? A dance would be much more acceptable.' And, before she could protest, his strong arm had encircled her waist and his other hand had put the glass back on the bar and caught Jacy's slender hand to his broad chest.

A shudder skittered down her spine, and she stiffened. 'I do not want to dance,' she snapped; his arm around her waist was like a ring of steel.

'You must, they're playing your tune, Jacy,' Leo prompted, holding her away from him, his mocking glance sweeping down her body and back to her flushed face before pulling her into intimate contact with his virile form.

The lively music had given way to 'Lady in Red', she realised angrily; but unless she wanted to make a scene in front of her hosts and all their friends she knew she would have to endure dancing with the man.

Shakily she moved where he led, trying to still the in­sistent tremors inside her. What was happening to her? Jacy thought wildly. She despised Leo Kozakis but, held close to his hard body, with his strong hand holding hers firmly to his chest, she felt an incredible urge to close her eyes and relax into him. Until he spoke.

'So, when did you give up the reporting?'

Jacy clenched her teeth and swallowed hard. She would not let him bait her, she vowed. She had never been a reporter; had never really seriously considered the idea. But her father had been an editor of an American tabloid, and that had been enough for the younger Leo Kozakis...

'What happened? Couldn't you compete with your father?'

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