He jabbed his finger at an intercom button on his desk and snarled something into the speaker in Greek. Then he turned his attention back to Andrea.
She was in front of the wide desk now, adrenaline running in every vein. She was simply too furious to be frightened. Besides, deep down in her consciousness she knew that if for a moment she gave in to her grandfather, let herself be cowed by him, it would all be over. He would have won and she would have been reduced to a terrified, intimidated wreck. Just the way he had terrified and intimated her mother. Well, he was not going to do the same to her! No way! It was essential, absolutely essential, that she outface him.
And she had every right to be angry—every right! The very idea that he had been discussing marriage... marriage!... at all, let alone behind her back like this, was so appalling she could hardly believe it to be true. It couldn't be true! It just couldn't!
'I'll go when I'm ready!' she bit at him. 'When you tell me that this lunatic you invited here is out of his mind!'
She had enraged her grandfather all over again.
'Silence! You will not shame me in my own home, you mannerless brat! And you will not speak of your betrothed husband like that!' The flat of his hand slammed on the surface of his desk to emphasise his anger.
Andrea's eyes widened with shock. 'You don't mean that,' she said. 'You don't seriously mean that. You can't! Tell me this is some kind of idiotic joke the two of you are playing!'
Yiorgos Coustakis's face was like stone.
'How dare you raise your voice to me? Why do you think you are here? You are betrothed to Nikos Vassilis and will marry him next week. Anything else is not your concern! That is an end to it! Now, go to your room!'
Faintness drummed at her. This was unreal. It had to be. It just had to be...
'You can't possibly have brought me here for such an outrageous idea,' she said. Her breathing was heavy, heart pounding in her chest. 'It's the most insane thing I've ever heard in my life! And you must be insane to think I'd go along with it!'
Somewhere, behind her, she could hear a sharp intake of breath. She didn't care. A whole lot of anger was coming out now—twenty-five years' worth of anger against the man who had behaved so unforgivably to her mother. She owed him nothing—nothing at all.
And as for this insane idea of his...
Her grandfather was standing up, coming out from behind his desk. His face was almost purple with anger.
The blow to the side of her head sent her reeling. She gasped with the pain and the shock, unable to believe that she had just been struck. Automatically she stepped back, almost tripping in her long tight skirt, raising her right forearm into a blocking gesture.
'Go to your room! This instant!' snarled Yiorgos Coustakis again. His eyes cut into her like knives.
Lowering her guard by merely a fraction, Andrea thrust her head forward. ‘If you ever hit me again I'll send you flying, so help me! You're a vile, callous bastard, and you don't push me around, not ever, so get that through your head right now!'
'Get out of here!' A stream of vituperative Greek poured out of Yiorgos Coustakis's mouth.
She took a deep, shuddering breath. 'I'm going. Don't worry! But before I go,' she said, her jaw tight with controlled rage, 'you had better understand something! I am not some pawn, some patsy for your vile machinations! The very idea that you seriously thought you could marry me off like some chattel is so ludicrous I can't believe you even entertained it for a second! So go take a hike, Yiorgos Coustakis!'
She saw his hand lift again and threw her arm back up to block him just in time. The blow landed on her arm-bone, jarring it painfully, but it had shielded her face.
She screamed, in shock, rage, pain and horror, and then suddenly her left arm was being taken in a grip she could not shake off, her right arm forcibly lowered from its blocking position.
'Enough—'
Nikos's voice was harsh and imperative. It was directed at both of them.
Yiorgos's face was contorted, eyes alight with a viciousness that would have scared her had she not been so overwhelmed. Then his eyes shot past her, towards the door. Two men were standing there, deferentially awaiting further orders. Nikos's head swivelled around to look at them. Security guards.
'Get her out of here,' Yiorgos Coustakis instructed them curtly. His breathing was heavy, his colour dangerously high. The two men started towards Andrea.
'Stop.' Nikos's voice held the note of command and it stopped the men in their tracks.
Andrea twisted in Nikos's unshakeable grip, taking in the uniformed men. Her eyes had widened yet again, in even greater disbelief.
'This is not necessary, Yiorgos,' said Nikos tightly.
'Then you get her out,' growled his host. 'And you had best take a whip to her to control her! She needs a good beating!' He raised his hand again, as if he would start the process himself, and willingly.
'You bastard!’ spat Andrea at her grandfather.