The Silver Bride

Stella's heart was pounding like a storm warning. She could feel his rage like a hurricane, churning up the atmosphere, but she couldn't suppress her overwhelming need to hit back.

You are rich and privileged and pig-ignorant. Now get your hands off me!' A split second later, her feet left the marble floor and a strangled screech escaped her. Dior brought her down on the bed in a startlingly fast landing that left her breathless and pinned her there.

He was ashen pale beneath his bronzed skin, dark, deep-set eyes now a blaze of flashing gold intimidation. 'If you were a man, I'd kill you for such insults!' 'You're f-frightening me...' Stella muttered truthfully.

An expression of extreme distaste flashed across Dior's darkly handsome features. He straightened up and backed off instantaneously. "The helicopter's waiting up at the villa for you,' he delivered between clenched teeth, with openly challenged restraint 'Pack and get out! Don't set foot in the HarlequinInternational building again.

Pale as the pristine white sheet spread beneath her, Stella swung her legs off the side of the bed and sat there. 'I thought I could love you, and now I despise you,' she muttered sickly. With a contemptuous gesture of one lean brown hand, Dior sent a handful of banknotes fluttering down onto the soft deep carpet at her feet.

Stella stared speechless at all those fifty-pound notes. 'As you said, business comes first and last in your life.

If it's any consolation, you gave me a great night.' Stella's innate survival skills rose above the devastating sense of betrayal that momentarily threatened to overwhelm her. 'Is this my plane fare home from Athens?' 'Skylar...what's that supposed to mean?' Dior raked at her.

"That little people like me have to think of practical stuff like that. I don't know how much a flight home would cost,' she extended doggedly, refusing to look at him, refusing to let herself feel anything at all. 'You collect your ticket at the terminal.'

Then all I need is transport home once I get back to London.' Stella picked up one note, resolving to send him the change, and then she stiffened. 'What about Grace?' "The other cleaner? What do you think?' 'That if you sack Grace too, you will live to regret it.' Slowly, very slowly, Stella raised her head, eyes as cold as his own now as she made the worst threat she could imagine.

I'll go to the newspapers, Dior. Since they seem so interested in you, I'll give them chapter and verse on this whole sleazy little episode and then compensate Grace with the proceeds...' Dior studied her with a quality of incredulous disgust that was unmistakable.

Inwardly, Stella cringed from that look and, terrified of betraying any further weakness, she got up on cotton wool legs. Turning her back to him, she tipped her old canvas shoes out of the relevant carrier bag and slid her feet into them.

With a nerveless grip on the bag that contained the rest of what she had been wearing that first evening, she walked past him, her head as high as she could hold it. It seemed to take forever to reach the lift in the villa, forever to walk the length of that opulent endless hall, shoulders and spine aching with the rigidity of unnatural control. The helicopter was parked on the helipad a hundred yards from the entrance.

She climbed in and closed her eyes tight, shallowly breathing in and out, struggling to maintain control and, most of all, not to think about what she had foolishly brought on herself. But the first stab of self-loathing still escaped and pierced deep long before she reached Athens.

Stella wasn't used to making mistakes. Stella was very cautious, particularly with men. So when the events of the previous thirty-six hours flashed before her, she could not begin to credit her foolish wanton behavior.

Before long she decided that she had got exactly what she deserved. She had invited all that pain and humiliation. When had she contrived to forget that she was with the same modest guy who had announced earlier in the day that he could 'persuade' her to belong to him?

He hadn't even listened to her attempt to defend herself. What did she want with somebody that stupid and prejudiced anyway? The trouble was, nothing had ever hurt Stella so much in five long years...