‘Then why tell my father that as soon as I get my qualifications, you’ll have me pregnant and under your watch all the time? I heard you!’
‘Of course you heard me—I winked at you when I said it. I was joking,’ he reiterated for the fourth time. ‘It was a clumsy effort to bond with your father. I wish I hadn’t bothered.’
‘I wish you hadn’t bothered too. Many a true word is said in jest and that was a jest too far. I’m not ready for children.’
‘You said you wanted them!’
‘And maybe I will in the future, but not yet. I’m too young, there’s too much I want to—’
‘So it’s all about you, is it? What about the plans we’ve already made?’
‘The plans you’ve made, you mean! You keep steamrollering me—’
‘I consult you on everything—’
‘After the fact! You only hear what you want to hear. When I said I wanted children I never said I wanted them straight away.’
‘Not straight away, matia mou,’ he’d pounced, spotting the opening needed to placate her, ‘but once you have your qualifications.’ See how reasonable he could be? ‘We can enjoy each other for two more years and then we can—’
‘And then I can be under your thumb and under your control.’
The rest of the argument was a blur in his mind but he remembered with utter clarity the moment she’d pulled her engagement ring off her finger and thrown it at him.
‘I thought you were different,’ Helena had screamed. She’d been unreachable. He remembered the colour of her face, the wildness in her eyes... ‘But you’re not. You’re just like my father and I will not marry a man who wants to control me and make decisions for me. You can shove this engagement where the sun doesn’t shine. I quit! And do not follow me. I never want to see you again!’
He’d laughed at her. He’d even shut the car door that had driven her away and waved her off for good measure. Not for a second had he thought she was serious. He’d expected her to stew for a few hours then come to her senses. He’d carried her engagement ring in his pocket to the cathedral, ready to slip it back into its rightful place when she joined him at the altar.
He’d never dreamt that the throwing of her ring at his chest would be the last direct contact between them in three years.
The most enjoyable part of these past few weeks had been lying in his bed at night knowing that Helena had been lying in her bed thinking about him. Whether she liked it or not, he’d gatecrashed his way back into her thoughts and thrown her orderly life into the chaos she so detested.
Now she wouldn’t be able to leave until he said so. Now Theo was the one who held the power, and he intended to have as much fun as he could extract from it.
He looked her up and down, taking in the sensible, businesslike knee-length skirt and scrupulously buttoned black shirt that must be boiling her alive. He smiled. Poor Helena—she’d obviously dressed like a governess to repel him, but it didn’t matter what she wore, she would always look good enough to eat. Just remembering her taste sent a charge careering through his veins. What he wouldn’t give to peel those goody-goody clothes off and rediscover the creamy-textured golden skin and all her other hidden surprises.
‘Good trip?’ he asked when he’d feasted his eyes on her for long enough.
Eyes narrowing and cheeks burning under the weight of his blatant approval, she shrugged. ‘It could have been worse.’
He laughed at this understatement and patted the space behind him. ‘You know what to do.’
Her face darkened further. ‘I’m not riding on that thing.’
‘You never minded before.’
‘I was young and stupid then,’ she retorted.
‘Maturity is an overrated quality.’
‘If you say so. I’m not getting on it without a helmet.’
He suppressed another burst of laughter that he’d correctly anticipated that particular argument from her. ‘There’s one in the box.’
‘Are there leathers for me to change into?’
‘There’s no traffic and the scooter whines if I push it to more than twenty kilometres an hour.’
‘I’ll take that as a no, then.’ She sniffed and folded her arms across her chest. ‘I’ll wait for the golf buggy to come back.’
He shook his head regretfully. ‘It isn’t coming back.’
Her eyes narrowed into slits. ‘Fine. I’ll walk.’
He looked at her feet. ‘In those shoes?’ Helena was wearing a pair of black heels that were about as useful and appropriate for walking distances as an ice cube.
Her chin jutted. ‘Yes.’
He let her obstinacy hang for a moment before pointing at the white dwelling with the blue roof far in the distance on the hilltop. ‘That’s where you need to walk to.’
Her eyes widened a fraction but she managed a brittle smile. ‘That’s fine. I’ll meet you there.’
‘Sure you don’t want a ride?’
‘Perfectly sure.’
‘Okay. Enjoy your walk.’ Thus saying, he turned the engine back on and did a U-turn on the single track.
‘You should wear a helmet,’ Helena suddenly shouted at his retreating form. ‘Mind you, if you were to fall, it might knock some sense into your thick head.’
His laughter as he rode away swirled into the dust his acceleration created.
Cursing under her breath, Helena put one foot in front of the other and followed the trail left by Theo’s scooter.
If she’d known she was going to have to walk she’d have grabbed her trainers from her suitcase before it was whipped away. She’d have taken her sunhat too and applied more sunscreen.
It was late afternoon but the sun still blazed down. She could feel its rays penetrating her scalp and thought what an excellent start to her stay sunstroke would be.
Minutes later she’d folded her skirt up at the waist, undone
