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the bend of his arm as he drew her close. ‘Marianna?’ His eyes lost some of their warmth as he looked at her tormentor. ‘Is there something that you wish to say? I can try and translate, if you would like?’

      The woman’s mouth tightened. ‘She didn’t seem to be having any problems communicating with Angelos.’

      The man smiled. ‘As you no doubt noticed, they use an entirely different method of communication.’

      Jealousy flashed in the other woman’s eyes and she turned her attention back to Chantal. ‘Well, I wish you luck with your relationship. The ability not to converse could stand you in good stead, given that Angelos never expects conversation from his women anyway.’

      Still frozen with horror that Marianna had recognised her face, Chantal watched with relief as the other woman stalked away, apparently unable to recall her name or exactly how she knew her.

      ‘You’re shaking.’ The man’s voice was soft, and Chantal clung to his arm, struggling to pull herself together. Desperately hoping that her dance partner wasn’t going to choose that moment to reappear, she took several deep breaths.

      ‘Do you think—could you just stay with me for a minute?’ Her voice cracked. ‘I don’t want to be left on my own just now.’

      ‘You are not on your own.’ His hand covered hers, and she felt the warmth of his fingers thaw the chill in her bones.

      ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, so pathetically grateful for his intervention that she almost hugged him on the spot. ‘I don’t know why you did that, but I’ll never forget it. You’ve been so, so kind. How did you know I needed rescuing?’

      ‘When she walked up to you, your face turned white. I thought you were going to faint. You don’t like her, no?’

      ‘Well, I—’

      ‘Don’t be embarrassed. I don’t like her either,’ the man said firmly. ‘I never could stand that woman. I wonder why she was invited.’

      Chantal thought back to the misery of her schooldays. ‘Her daddy is very rich.’

      ‘Really? He clearly didn’t spend his money feeding his family.’ The man made a disparaging noise. ‘To look at her you’d think she was starved from birth. Her bones should be classified as a lethal weapon. If you bumped into her, you’d be bruised all over.’

      Despite her insecurities, Chantal couldn’t help laughing. He was not only kind, he was also funny. She glanced at him curiously, thinking that he reminded her of someone. ‘I’d better leave—’ She started to move, but he tightened his grip on her arm.

      ‘If you leave,’ he said softly, ‘then they’ll think they’ve won. Is that what you want?’

      She stilled, wondering how he knew what she was feeling. ‘Everyone is staring at me—’

      ‘So smile,’ the man instructed calmly. ‘Lift your chin and smile. You have as much right to be here as the rest of them.’ Without giving her the chance to argue, he led her to two vacant chairs. ‘Sit for a moment and keep a lonely old man company. I hate these things. I always feel out of place.’

      ‘That can’t possibly be true. You look as confident as anyone here.’

      ‘But appearances can be deceptive, can’t they?’ His gentle comment made it clear that he was aware of how uncomfortable and insecure she felt.

      His unusual insight probably should have worried her, but it didn’t. All she felt was the most profound gratitude. Not only had he rescued her from a potentially embarrassing situation, he was now pretending that her fears and insecurities were nothing out of the ordinary.

      ‘Why are you being so kind to me?’

      ‘I’m not being kind. I hate these events. You can’t blame me for enjoying myself with the best-looking woman in the room.’

      She wished her hands would stop shaking. ‘If you hate them, why did you come?’

      ‘To please my son. He is worried that I haven’t been getting out enough lately.’

      ‘In that case he won’t want to see you wasting your time with me.’ And she should be leaving. Before Marianna remembered who she was.

      ‘That dance—’ The man glanced towards her, the corners of his eyes crinkling. ‘It was like watching one person. The rhythm was perfect, the chemistry between the two of you—Only lovers can dance the Argentine tango like that.’

      Lovers?

      Chantal opened her mouth to tell him that they hadn’t even exchanged names, but then decided that it would be embarrassing to admit that she’d danced like that with a total stranger.

      What had Marianne called him? Angelos?

      So she’d been right about one thing; he definitely wasn’t English.

      What would it be like, she mused dreamily, to be loved by a man like that?

      ‘And even now you can’t stop thinking about him, can you?’ The man sounded pleased. ‘You share something deep. He cares. I can see with my own eyes. The way he looked at you. The way you looked at him. The way you moved together, as if there was no one else in the room. The body says more than words. I can see from watching you that your relationship is serious.’

      His observation shocked her out of her dreams. ‘Oh. Well, no, it isn’t exactly—’

      ‘You don’t have to be secretive with me. I may be old enough to be your father, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in love. I want to know how you felt the first time you saw him. Tell me!’

      Chantal hesitated and then smiled, drawn by the kindness in his eyes. It was strange, she mused. She didn’t make friends easily, and yet after only five minutes in his company she would have died for this man. ‘I thought he was amazing,’ she said honestly. ‘He was charming, clever and surprisingly easy to talk to.’

      ‘And sexy?’

      ‘Oh, yes. Incredible.’ She lowered her voice, afraid that the people around them might overhear. ‘I’ve never been so attracted to anyone in my life before.’

      The man nodded with satisfaction. ‘I knew it. And you’re crazy about him, aren’t you?’

      ‘Well—’ Chantal gave a helpless shrug. ‘Yes. But we haven’t exactly known each other for—’

      ‘It’s either right or it’s wrong! All these long engagements—all nonsense. If a man and woman are right together, they’re right straight away—not in six months or six years.’

      Slightly disturbed by that comment, Chantal thought for a moment. Right together? Hardly. If he was as rich as she suspected, then she couldn’t think of two people less suited.

      She would never be comfortable in his world. And he wouldn’t want her in his.

      If he knew who she was then he’d join the crowd at the edge of the playground.

      Dismissing that thought, she glanced at the man next to her. He really did remind her of someone. ‘So, if you’re such an expert on body language, why do you think he looked so angry?’ She wondered why she was asking the advice of a total stranger. But he didn’t feel like a stranger, and talking to him seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

      ‘That’s easy enough to answer. A man never likes to admit that he’s well and truly fallen for a woman. I was the same when I met my wife. I struggled for weeks. Loving a woman makes a man vulnerable, and a strong man doesn’t like to be vulnerable. I resisted her.’

      ‘So what did your wife do to win you over?’

      ‘She did what women always do when they want something. Talk, talk, talk until a man’s resistance is ground into the dust.’

      Chantal laughed. ‘Are you still

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