His Virgin Mistress

‘I do not think—’

‘Pios ineh, Philip?’ Who is it?

Constantine’s voice was frail, but he had obviously deduced that the manservant was talking to someone, and, ignoring Philip’s attempt to bar her way, Joa

‘Please…’

Constantine showed no reservations about inviting her into his room. And why should he? she asked herself drily. When they were deemed to be lovers.

All the same, she halted in the doorway of the huge, distinctly masculine chamber, briefly shocked by his appearance. Constantine was lying propped against the pillows of the massive bed, his face as white as the linen sheets that covered him from chest to foot. Brown hands, slightly gnarled with veins, were a stark contrast to the bedlinen, his nails scraping against the fabric in a mute display of frustration.

‘Come—come in,’ he said weakly, lifting his hand to point at the tapestry-covered chair beside the bed. ‘Do not look like that, aghapitos. I am not dying yet.’

Joa

‘What can a doctor do for me?’ Constantine was dismissive. ‘I am already sick of the cocktail of drugs I am forced to swallow every day, without inviting a handful more. No, Joa

Joa

‘And have them see me like this?’ Constantine moved his head from side to side on the pillows. ‘I know what they are like, Joa

‘Tsikas?’ Joa

‘He is the island doctor, yes,’ agreed Constantine wearily. ‘Look, Joa

Joa

‘It is.’ Constantine was determined. ‘You can tell Demetri I will speak with him this afternoon. I have taken my medication and in a few hours I should be as good as new.’

You wish, thought Joa

‘All right?’ he prompted when she didn’t say anything, and Joa

‘I’ll do what I can,’ she promised, not looking forward to telling either of the Kastro offspring what their father had said. ‘Now, get some rest, hmm?’ She bent to bestow a warm kiss on his dry cheek. ‘I’ll come back at lunchtime to see how you are.’

Constantine nodded. ‘We will have lunch together,’ he said, patting her cheek. ‘Oh, Joa

Joa

Though hostility was not what she had initially felt when Demetrios had surprised her on the terrace that morning. When he’d wrapped a towel about his nakedness—and she was pretty sure he had been swimming in the nude—and walked towards her, she’d felt a most unhostile surge of emotion. Indeed, for the first time in years she’d been physically aroused by a man’s body. And although she’d later dismissed it as an aberration, now, faced with the prospect of confronting him again, Joa

Philip was waiting for her outside the bedroom door. She wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d discovered him with his ear pressed to the panels, but her exit had been sufficiently telegraphed to allow him time to move away.

‘Mr Kastro is going to rest this morning,’ she said coolly, deciding she was going to take no guff from him. ‘I’ll come back at one o’clock. Perhaps you’d ask the housekeeper to serve a light lunch on the balcony.’

Philip gave her a mutinous look. ‘For one, kiria?’

‘No, for two.’

She managed to keep her cool, but Philip wasn’t finished yet. ‘What would you like?’ he asked, probably knowing full well that Joa

But she refused to let him confuse her. ‘I suggest an omelette and some salad,’ she answered sweetly. ‘Mr Kastro is very fond of omelettes, you know?’

‘Veveha, kiria. I know,’ he muttered, as she headed towards her own rooms, and Joa

CHAPTER FOUR

DEMETRI was having breakfast on the terrace when Joa

And they’d needed lifting, he conceded grimly, picking at a currant-filled roll between generous gulps of the strong black coffee he favoured. His earlier encounter with his father’s mistress had left him feeling piqued and morose. And provoked; definitely provoked. Though not in any way he wanted to acknowledge.

Now here she was again, slim and alluring in a sleeveless top and clinging silk shorts which had surely not come off the peg in some downtown department store. Her legs were bare and her glorious mane of hair had been secured in one of those loose knots atop her head. Strands of white-gold escaped to caress her cheeks, and although when she saw him she made a half-hearted effort to tuck them back behind her ears, they refused to be tamed.

Oh, she was beautiful, he thought bitterly, forced to push back his chair and get to his feet as she came towards him. But what the hell was she doing with his father? He simply didn’t buy into May and December love affairs. She wanted something from this relationship, and he’d swear on a stack of Bibles that it wasn’t sex.

The morning mail had been spread out on the table in front of him, but he shuffled it together at her approach. He guessed his father wouldn’t be far behind her, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about private business matters with her present.

He was pleased to see that she wasn’t wholly relaxed about meeting him again. He wondered if she’d told Constantine about seeing him earlier that morning. If she had, he could probably look forward to his father’s displeasure as well. Particularly if she’d mentioned that he’d been swimming in the nude.

Perhaps she hadn’t noticed. After all, she hadn’t noticed he was there at all until he’d vaulted out of the pool. Thank heaven for towels, he reflected drily. They could hide a multitude of sins.

CONTENTS

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EPILOGUE

Copyright