The Secret Wife

Her face was now burning so hot, she was convinced she was glowing in the dark like a neon light.

‘When you’re trying to shrink into a wall, it is a challenge to see you as a natural-born tease, and you did almost hit the ceiling in your haste to vacate that hotel bed last night. For a woman with a chequered past, you’re strangely nervous when it comes to sex.’

Rosie imagined telling him that she was a virgin and as quickly discarded the mortifying notion with an inner shudder. He wouldn’t believe her. He couldn’t know how utterly terrifying it was to find herself at the mercy not only of feelings and sexual responses that were new to her, but also at the mercy of a sophisticate like him and realise that she had completely lost control. Constantine made a sensual, seductive feast of lovemaking. Never mind those startlingly eye-catching dark good looks, what about the incredible technique?

Blushing all over again, Rosie forced her dry lips apart and said, ‘We don’t even like each other.’

‘That has a strange, perverse appeal all of its own.’

Rosie swallowed with difficulty at that disturbing assertion.

Constantine watched her with eyes that glittered like diamonds in the moonlight. ‘You’re running scared, aren’t you?’ he murmured with sudden amusement.

‘I don’t understand.’

‘You’re a control freak and I have found your self-destruct button. I have no doubt that you kept Anton and the throwback spinning in separate orbits with the greatest of ease—’

‘The throwback?’

‘Maurice... the label fits him like a glove. A great hulking thicko, whose only talent is inbred cunning for enriching himself,’ Constantine extended smoothly.

‘Maurice is not thick!’ Rosie hissed furiously.

‘Of course he is. He’s pushed you into my arms. Does he really believe that you’ll go back to him after being with me and living in my world?’

‘I’m not going to be with you in any sense!’

‘But the throwback is history. Anton is dead. And you are Mrs Constantine Voulos... for the moment.’ Constantine swung on his heel and glanced back at her. ‘I won’t have to wait long for you to fall into my bed. I would say you are physically incapable of staying out of it!’

He had almost disappeared into the darkness when Rosie raked in an infuriated tone, ‘How do I get back to my room?’

Constantine spun round, flung his darkly handsome head back and laughed with raw and unconcealed appreciation of her plight. Rosie thrust shaking hands into her pockets and boiled with loathing. In silence because she didn’t trust herself to speak, they reached the relevant corridor.

‘I know where I am now.’

‘Do you?’ His intonation suggested a deeper meaning.

Rosie stiffened, her breath catching in her throat as he curved a staying arm round the base of her slender spine. Raising his hand, he caught a single corkscrew curl and watched with gleaming satisfaction as it coiled obediently round one lean brown forefinger.

Black eyes skimmed direct to hers. ‘You’re not as tough as you like to make out, are you? In fact, you’re on the brink of panic...but think of the potential rewards. Please me and you won’t ever have to sell yourself to an older man again!’

Rosie stumbled into her bedroom like a drunk. She was shaking all over. It had been many years since anyone had made her feel weak and powerless. But Constantine had achieved that feat within thirty-six hours. And she wasn’t just on the brink, she was panicking, with her life suddenly resembling an accident black spot and Constantine continuing to come at her like a particularly deadly juggernaut moving in for the kill.

He had found her Achilles heel and he was already starting to work out what made her tick. She had been a complete fool to keep on challenging a male as sexually experienced as Constantine. And if she ended up in bed with a man who despised her how would she feel about herself then? Wouldn’t it be nice to think that she could resist her own most basic urges?

But then it was him she couldn’t seem to resist. Ignorant, arrogant, macho, clever swine that he was. Little rag-doll—oh, yes, she had been behaving just like a little rag-doll. A toy he could push around and play with. And maybe once or twice she had succeeded in outfacing Constantine, but ultimately she had ended up paying very dearly for the privilege.

Why had Anton never warned her that Constantine could be so terrifyingly unpredictable? Or that beneath those smooth, expensive clothes beat the heart and soul of a very primal and passionate male whose every instinct was ruthlessly grounded on a need not only to win but to dominate?

And what about the other women in his life? Louise, the mistress, emotionally detached but vindictive enough to delight in the belief that another woman might be giving Constantine his comeuppance at last... and exactly where did the beautiful Italian actress, Cinzia Borzone, who was supposedly his only true love, fit in? Rosie was suddenly even more appalled by her own shameless, reckless behaviour. Evidently Constantine had few morals. And she herself had very nearly fallen victim to his magnetic sexuality as well.

It was time she used the brain she had been born with. Why should she have to stay in Greece? It would be madness to risk another uneasy meeting with Thespina. Constantine would simply have to tell her that his bride had already left him. He could even truthfully add that his wife had had a surprise meeting with his mistress... exit wife. Exit where? It didn’t take Rosie two minutes to work out the most desirable destination. She would go to Majorca to see Son Fontanal before Constantine sold it again.

An hour later, weighed down only by her backpack, Rosie was lowering herself off the balcony outside her room. She made a slight detour onto a drainpipe to reach the sturdy climber covering the wall and then descended as sure-footed as a cat down onto the paved terrace below. Somewhere too close for comfort, a dog barked. Rosie took off at speed across the landscaped gardens, dodging and weaving like a professional. There was more than one dog barking now and her adrenalin hit an al

l-time high. As she got near the perimeter wall, some sort of siren screamed and suddenly a man appeared out of the darkness.

Rosie made a rush at the wall. The man got in the way. On the brink of her kicking him, he coughed and she recognised him. ‘Taki...?’