‘The contents of a kitchen are a good indication of a person’s character,’ he chided playfully, opening another drawer that contained precisely a roll of cooking foil, a roll of Clingfilm and two tea towels.
‘And the failure to stop rifling through said kitchen when the owner has requested it is an equally good indicator.’
With another theatrical sigh, he closed the drawer. Judging by the contents of what he’d seen so far, Helena was as averse to cooking now as she’d been three years ago.
‘Have you eaten?’ he asked.
‘N... Yes.’
Laughing at her blatant lie, he pulled his phone back out. ‘What would you like?’
‘For you to stop mucking about like a hyperactive child, get to the ruddy point and get the hell out of my flat.’
Now Theo’s forehead creased and he waggled a finger at her before tapping the screen of his phone. ‘Is that any way to speak to the man who is going to make you rich?’
‘If I cared anything for riches I would have married you.’
He put his hand to his chest again and pretended to double over. ‘Ouch. I see you have been sharpening your tongue in recent years.’
‘And you’ve been dulling your hearing. For the last time, answer my question.’
‘Which one? There have been so many.’
A growl escaped her slender throat. Theo laughed to finally get a proper reaction out of her. Her shock had been transparent in their earlier meeting but she had recovered beautifully, making her pitch with controlled precision. A stranger meeting her for the first time could be forgiven for thinking her controlled persona defined her, but the stranger would be wrong. Helena kept her passion, be it anger or desire, tightly hidden beneath prim clothing, but when it was unleashed...whoa! She scorched. He could hardly wait to feel her burn.
‘You can start with how you got my address,’ she bit out with barely concealed exasperation.
‘Your mother gave it to me.’ A photograph on the kitchen wall by the door caught his attention. It was a picture of Helena cuddling a cute toddler. He touched the glass frame beside the child’s face. ‘Who is that?’
She ignored his question. ‘You’ve seen my mother?’
‘I wanted to find you, agapi mou. Who better to help than your mother?’
He felt her dumbfounded stare on his skin but deliberately kept his gaze from hers.
This was a scene Theo had played out in his mind many times since formulating his plan. So far only two things had marred his picture-perfect fantasy: arriving at Helena’s home soaked from the three-metre walk from his car to her front door, and Helena wearing a grey towelling bathrobe. If she’d been psychically attuned to his picture-perfect fantasies, she would have worn a silk kimono that caressed her wonderful curves, not the shapeless thing that covered her from neck to ankle. Sexiness must have been the last thing on her mind when she’d bought it. It didn’t stop him from wanting to pull the ugly robe apart—she could have worn a sackcloth and he’d still have wanted her—but he still vowed to burn the ugly thing at the first opportunity.
‘When did you see her?’ she asked tightly.
‘Three months ago. Who is the child?’
‘Stop changing the subject.’ Her teeth were well and truly gritted. She hadn’t moved from the threshold of the kitchen door but the room was so small that if she entered it, she would have to touch him. He knew perfectly well that at that moment, Helena would rather stroke a tarantula than touch him. ‘My mother never said anything about seeing you.’
Theo grinned. He was enjoying this. The entire day had been one of unremitting joy. ‘I asked her not to.’
The pretty face shaped like a diamond, and which glowed like a diamond under the sun, tightened. ‘Why?’
‘I will tell you that when you tell me who the child in the photo is.’ It couldn’t be hers. Firstly, her mother would have mentioned it. Secondly, this apartment wasn’t big enough for Helena, let alone Helena, a child and, presumably, the child’s father...who would be Helena’s lover.
He didn’t care what lovers she’d had. Okay, he did care. A little. But only in the kicking-himself-for-not-having-her-himself sense. Helena had wanted them to make love. She’d tried every trick in the book to weaken his resolve. It had been torturous. Thoughts of making love to her had fuelled his every waking moment but he’d been determined to do things properly. He’d believed himself in love with her. He’d believed they would be together for ever. He’d loved her and he would show that love by respecting her virginity and waiting until they were husband and wife before making love to her. After all, he’d reasoned, they had their whole lives to spend making love. So they had stuck to doing ‘everything but’ and then she’d jilted him at the last moment, leaving his ego battered and his desire unfulfilled. Was it any wonder he’d been unable to rise to the occasion since?
Just being here and sharing the same air as her proved his plan was going to be a winner. Energy flowed through his veins, his skin tingled and arousal...for once he was having to squash it rather than futilely coax it.
Helena scowled at Theo’s profile while he was still studiously examining the photos she’d hung on the wall. ‘She’s my boss’s granddaughter. Now stop looking at my photos and tell me why you’ve been bothering my mother.’ Her poor mother, trained to obey the word of a man, would have told Theo anything he wanted to know and made any promise he asked of her.
No wonder she’d been jumpier than normal during their recent secret get-togethers. She would have wanted to warn Helena that Theo was back on the scene but been unable to say a word. Her mother knew too well the consequences of going against
