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PROLOGUE

THE EXECUTIVE JET cut through the wintry night, heading north Inside, its sole passenger stared through the darkened porthole His face was so inward, into the distant past

Two boys, carefree, happy

Brothers Who’d thought they had all the time in the world

But for one time had run out

A knife stabbed into the heart of the ht sky beyond the speeding plane

Andreas! My brother!

But Andreas was gone, never to return Leaving behind only a weeping mother, a stricken brother

And one precious, ift of consolation…

The front doorbell rang, pere the lanced into the second-hand pra that the noise hadn’t woken Ari She hurried to the front door, pushing back untidy wisps of hair, wondering as she opened it who on earth it could be

But even as she opened the door she kneho it was He stood, tall, and dark, face set like stone Beyond him, at the kerb, a chauffeured car, sleek and expensive, looked utterly out of place in this run down part of town

‘Miss Turner?’

The voice was deep, and accented It was also cold, and very hard

Ann nodded briefly, dread suddenly pooling in her stomach

‘I aht in her throat in a shocked rasp ‘I have come for the child’

Nikos Theakis The man she had most cause to hate in all the world

Ann could only stare, frozen, as he stepped past her, inside, do dis back on her, as she stood shocked into immobility ‘Where is he?’ he demanded

His eyes lasered into her—dark, overpowering Her s to do at this moment all she could do was stare at him Stare at six foot of lean packed male, sheathed in a business suit that shouted wealth, sable hair immaculately cut, and a face—Ann’s stomach clenched—a face that widened her eyes involuntarily

Night-dark eyes, a strong blade of a nose, high cheekbones, steel-jaw and sculpted, sensual mouth

She gulped ed herat the man like that? As if he were anyone other than the man he had just announced himself to be

Nikos Theakis—rich, powerful, arrogant and ruthless The man who had ruined her sister’s life

Because he had Ann knew Her sister had told her tiain

Carla, always the golden girl, vibrant and glah life Then the party had ended She’d turned up late last suo Distraught

‘He said he was crazy about nant and he won’t marry me! And I knohy’ Her beautiful face had twisted in hatred ‘It’s that snobby bully-boy brother of his! The al down his nose at me like I’m dirt!’