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You’re more interested in the mind because you’ve spent your entire life in the company of men like Cyril who have nothing else to offer.’

      Her heart was pounding hard against her chest. ‘Cyril is more stimulating company than you will ever be.’

      ‘Really?’ Nikos leaned forward, his eyes never leaving her face. ‘Does he make your heart race and your breath catch, Dr Littlewood? When you’re with him is your body on fire? In bed together, does he make you forget you’re an archaeologist? Does he make you forget absolutely everything except the fact that you’re a woman?’

      She stared at him, hypnotised, so shocked that it took her a moment to find her voice. Then the colour flooded into her cheeks and she looked away quickly, staring out of the window in an attempt to calm herself. ‘It’s typical of you to reduce everything to sex but my relationship with Cyril isn’t like that.’

      ‘I find it all too easy to believe you.’ His tone bordered on the derogatory. ‘You probably both approach sex like an academic exercise, consulting the appropriate texts in order to derive evidential support in favour of the physical act.’

      She whipped her head round at that, just furious with him! ‘I’m not interested in having sex with Cyril!’

      ‘You shouldn’t blame yourself for that,’ he assured her in sympathetic tones. ‘I’m sure most women would feel the same way. He isn’t the right guy for you. You need someone more physical to break down all those barriers you’ve built up around yourself.’

      She didn’t even want to think about it! Her whole body was trembling and she felt hot inside and out of control in a way that she didn’t understand. ‘I’ve had enough of this. Stop the car and let me out. I insist that you stop the car. I don’t want to spend another moment in your company.’

      ‘You should have thought of that before you proposed,’ he pointed out, his eyes suddenly hard. ‘You’re the one who wanted to be my wife and that position comes with certain rules, I’m afraid. One of them is that no wife of mine is permitted to be with another man. Even someone with such a dubious claim on masculinity as your Cyril.’

      ‘He’s not my Cyril.’ She struggled to wriggle her foot back into the shoe that had somehow become parted from her foot during her less than elegant entrance into the car. She felt flustered and completely out of her comfort zone. She’d never had a conversation like this with anyone before and she found it hideously uncomfortable.

      ‘No, you’re right, he isn’t your Cyril.’ His smile was less than pleasant. ‘At least, not any more.’

      She jammed her foot hard into her shoe and brushed the hair out of her eyes. ‘You have absolutely no right to tell me who I can and can’t see.’

      ‘I’m Greek,’ he reminded her gently, the hard glint in his eyes negating the apology in his tone. ‘We’re a very possessive race, I’m afraid. Not that great at sharing. Sorry, but that’s just the way it is. I’m sure you’ll learn to live with it. You probably ought to be grateful to me. You never would have been happy with a man like him.’

      ‘You’re doing this on purpose! You’re trying to make me loathe you so much that I just give you the jewel to get you out of my life. Well, it isn’t going to happen. You are not going to get away with treating women badly any longer. This time, you’re going to pay the price.’

      The driver steered the car through the heavy London traffic and Angie sat back against the seat, fuming. And panicking. She realised suddenly that she hadn’t actually believed for a moment that he’d agree to her proposition and the implications of her revenge plan suddenly hit home. She was used to a quiet, ordered life. Never would she have described herself as a tense person but every time Nikos strolled into the room her stress levels seemed to rocket. Her insides churned and her whole body behaved in a way that was completely inexplicable. It was all very well forcing him to marry her, but how was she going to stand being with him day after day? He’d be in the office, she reminded herself quickly. And she could always find somewhere quiet to read in the evenings.

      And anyway, none of this was about her. It was about Tiffany. She owed it to her sister to at least make him think about what he’d done.

      But what about him? Why had a man like him, a man who had spent his entire adult life avoiding commitment, accepted the idea of marriage so readily?

      Did he want the jewel that badly or was marriage to her simply not as distasteful as she’d believed it would be?

      She looked at him for a moment, studying his cold, handsome face through narrowed eyes and suddenly knew exactly why the idea of marriage didn’t disturb him as much as it should. Obviously he wasn’t the sort of man to allow a little thing like a wedding to stand in the way of his continual pursuit of women. Just like her father, he was clearly planning to have numerous extramarital affairs and if he did that then it would defeat the purpose of forcing him to marry her. He wouldn’t suffer at all.

      What could she do? What could she do that would actually have an impact on him? Her mind working fast, she thought hard about the sort of man he was—all the things she‘d ever read about him. Nikos was a prime example of man at its most basic. All that seemed to matter to him was sex. Inspiration struck and suddenly she knew exactly how she could make her revenge all the more sweet.

      ‘I wish to see a lawyer,’ she blurted out quickly. ‘If we’re going to get married then there are going to be certain conditions. I want a pre-nuptial agreement.’

      He threw back his head and laughed in genuine amusement. ‘If you think I would marry you without a pre-nuptial agreement then you truly know nothing about the man you’re taking on. I’ve already told you, if you’re hoping for money you can forget it because you won’t get a single penny out of me. And why you would think you need a pre-nuptial agreement completely escapes me.’

      She gave him a superior smile. ‘That’s because you don’t tend to use your brain very much, do you? Like most men, you think with an entirely different part of your anatomy.’

      She’d never imagined that such a powerfully built man could move so fast. He was as swift and silent as a predator closing in on its prey. One moment he was lounging with careless indifference against the furthest edge of the car, the next his hand was clamped in her hair and her body was pressed up against his as he held her captive. It was primal, basic, male on female and she felt everything inside her lurch.

      ‘What are you doing?’ Breathless, her heart pounding against her chest, she pushed at the hard muscle of his shoulders but he didn’t shift. ‘Get off! Let me go.’

      ‘Do you know what I really think, agape mou?’ His mouth was so close to hers that she could feel his breath warming her lips and she didn’t dare move even a fraction because then their mouths would touch. This close she could see the thickness of his lashes, the seductive curve of his mouth and the darkening shadow on his jaw. ‘I think that after a less than stimulating evening staring at your Cyril, you’re dying to know what it’s like to be kissed by a man like me.’

      She stared at him, hypnotised by the slumberous look in his molten eyes and the soft drawl of his slightly accented voice. ‘I’ve told you a million times, he’s isn’t my Cyril and you have a ridiculously high opinion of yourself.’

      ‘I have an entirely accurate opinion of myself,’ he amended, ‘whereas you don’t appear to know yourself at all. I’m starting to think it might be interesting to show you who you really are. You, who spend your life unearthing the secrets of others, might be about to discover a few secrets about yourself.’

      He felt hard, tough and masculine. Her stomach tumbled and lurched and she tried again to push him away. ‘You’re making me hot—’

      ‘I know. I’m very experienced with women. I can tell that you’re very turned on.’ His voice was a soft purr and she felt her temper flare.

      ‘I meant that the weather is too warm to have

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