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to themselves. She supposed she could stay in a hotel or hostel until she found somewhere else, but it would certainly cut into her business fund, she realised sadly. Then she recalled once more Eve’s last message to her.

      You have it all, Saffron—the looks, the character and the expertise to make it on your own. Not like me. I was born a loser. Promise me, Saffron, you won’t let some bastard of a man get at you. Stick to your dream. Start your own business, be your own boss. Do it for me. You show them.

      Squaring her shoulders, a new light of determination in her lovely green eyes, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Wrapping a large fluffy towel around her slender body, she walked back into the bedroom. She would not allow Mr Statis to frighten her out of her job. Anna had employed her. Anna was happy with the arrangement, and in any case once they got back to London she would not have to see the man. But her salary for the next few months would be enough to fulfil her dream. Ten minutes later, neatly dressed in navy shorts and a plain white T-shirt, she opened the door of Anna’s suite.

      ‘Oh, you’re awake!’ Saffron smiled at her employer, sitting propped up in bed, her glance going to the tray beside her. ‘And already at the coffee, I see,’ she chided gently; if Anna had one weakness it was that she drank far too much coffee.

      ‘Yes, my dear. I received the same service as you, apparently. Alex delivered it.’

      Saffron felt the colour rise in her face. Anna certainly had not been attacked by the great brute as she had! Walking to the dressing-table, she busied herself with the case that contained her oils and other supplies. Trying to hide her blush, she said, ‘Would you like me to order breakfast or would you prefer a shower and massage?’

      ‘The massage, but make it quick. I have been instructed by Alex to meet him on the deck for breakfast at nine-thirty, and I don’t dare argue. I have already wasted three days of his time, he informed me.’

      ‘Wasted!’ Saffron’s temper rose at the comment. ‘Surely it’s his own fault? We were perfectly all right on the Pallas Corinthian. This was his idea.’ She flung out an arm, gesturing around the luxurious room.

      ‘Well, not exactly. I have a confession to make.’

      Saffron spun round to stare at her charge.

      ‘You see, dear, we always cruise in June for a week or so. But with Alex being in Australia and not sure when he was coming back I decided I wanted to cruise on my own…well, with you. The poor boy arrived in London last weekend and didn’t know where I was and so he spent three days tracking us down, instead of working. Ordinarily I would have joined the yacht at the weekend along with Alex and the rest of the relatives.’

      ‘If that’s so, why are we moving now?’ Saffron glanced out of the window at the vast expanse of clear sunlit water. ‘We could have waited in port for the other guests and your son could have stayed at work.’

      ‘That’s my fault. I insisted we set sail straight away because I was frightened that with a couple of days in port you might change your mind and go back to England. I know what a pain my son can be, and I didn’t want to lose you. This way you can’t get off the boat and I’ve told Alex he has got to make friends with you.’

      ‘Why, you conniving lady,’ Saffron opined, with a wry shake of her red head.

      ‘Yes, but you know my secret. In any case no one can do my hair or make-up as well as you. Not even me when I was fit,’ Anna said with blunt honesty.

      An hour later Saffron put the finishing touches to Anna’s hair and then followed her along the passageway down the companionway, through the staterooms and through large glass doors to the poop deck where Alex was waiting for them.

      It had been dark last night when they had arrived, but Saffron had been awed by the luxury of the cabins, the elegant main lounge and equally stunning dining-room, but the deck was something else again. Under a plain white awning were arranged three plump-cushioned long sofas covered in William Morris shades of blue and green printed cotton satin, a couple of over-stuffed armchairs and one large low table plus a handful of smaller ones discreetly stacked beside one of the potted vine trees that dotted the area. Beyond the seating area, on the open deck, was a circular swimming-pool. Through the sparkling water Saffron saw the outline of dolphins patterned in the tiles; the effect was as if they were swimming in the pool and completely magical. Around the pool was scattered a dozen sun-loungers, and a few more tables with gaily patterned beach umbrellas in the centre.

      How the other half live! Saffron thought, bemused. She had realised Anna was wealthy, but it was slowly dawning on her that Alex Statis must be extremely rich. No wonder he was worried about his mother being ripped off by some unscrupulous companion. But it still gave him no right to suspect her, she thought grimly. He didn’t know her, and was never likely to. She was way below his social circle and she knew it.

      Subdued, Saffron sat down in one of the armchairs, avoiding looking at where Alex lounged elegantly on a sofa opposite. But to her surprise breakfast was a pleasant meal. The same steward who had shown her to her cabin the previous evening placed a wide variety of cereals, croissants, bread and accompanying confections on the large table, along with jugs of coffee, tea and various fruit juices, before asking if anyone wanted a hot meal.

      The conversation was general. Saffron made an occasional comment but after a while she left mother and son to do most of the talking, content to admire her surroundings. It was early June, and the hot morning sun sparkled and danced on the deep blue sea, dazzling on the brilliant white of the boat. Paradise must be a lot like this, Saffron mused as she spread thick honey on a second warm croissant. Heaven help her weight if she kept eating like this…

      ‘Is that all right with you, Saffron?’

      She jumped at the sound of her name, her glance flashing between the other two. She felt that some comment was expected of her, but hadn’t a clue what had been said.

      ‘Tell her again, Alex,’ Anna said with a grin.

      Saffron reluctantly looked across at Alex. He was lounging casually back on the sofa, with his long legs stretched out in front of him. His hard, dangerously masculine body was briefly clad in a sleeveless black T-shirt that moulded his broad, muscular chest in loving detail. A pair of white shorts exposed his long legs, tanned to a golden bronze and rippling with muscles. He was all male, all-powerful, and he made her head spin…

      ‘We will be arriving in Mykonos in a couple of hours. Mother wanted to see the island again, but she does not feel up to going ashore in the tender.’ He hesitated and Saffron raised her eyes to his questioningly.

      ‘She suggested I take you.’ His sensuous mouth curved mockingly, his dark eyes raking suggestively over her slender frame. Saffron felt the colour rise in her face at his double entendre, before he added slowly, deliberately, ‘For a few hours.’

      The lazy smile, the long body stretched out only feet from her were having a totally alien effect on her. She opened her mouth to say no, but was horrified at the odd constriction in her throat. She swallowed hard.

      ‘Yes, of course she will,’ Anna answered for her. ‘Mykonos is not to be missed.’

      ‘I don’t know,’ Saffron heard herself murmur; she knew intuitively that being alone with Alex Statis represented a danger she was not sure she could handle.

      ‘Of course you will, dear,’ Anna insisted.

      Saffron glanced across at Alex; the amusement in his eyes was obvious; he knew she wanted to say no, and was daring her to…‘Yes, that would be lovely,’ she heard herself gush, and missed the flicker of cynicism in Alex’s dark eyes.

      ‘Good. Well, if you will excuse me, ladies, I have work to do.’ Rising to his feet, Alex smiled gently at his mother. ‘Round one to you, Mama.’

      His austere features relaxed in a genuine smile that took years off his age and, though his comment puzzled Saffron for a brief second, she saw the man behind the ruthless mask. She sucked in her breath, her green eyes wide with wonder; he looked almost beautiful.

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