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  "Wait, Alex. You said to follow this chemistry to its logical conclusion. But marriage is a big step—are you sure you're ready for it? You have been a bachelor for an awful long time."

  Saffron deliberately lowered her voice, a slight tremor to her tone.

  "Marriage? Who mentioned marriage?" He let go of her and stepped back as if he had been stung.

  "I'm sorry if I misunderstood," she said softly, acting for all she was worth. "But I'm afraid that's the only way you'll ever get me."

  JACQUELINE BAIRD began writing as a hobby when her family objected to the smell of her oil painting, and immediately became hooked on romance. She loves traveling, and worked her way around the world from Europe to the Americas and Australia, returning to many her teenage sweetheart, She lives in the north of England, and has two grown-up sons. She spends most weekends with husband, Jim, sailing their small boat.

  Books by Jacqueline Baird HARLEQUIN PRESENTS

  1079—DARK DESIRING

  1359—SHATTERED TRUST

  1431—PASSIONATE BETRAYAL

  1558—DISHONOURABLE PROPOSAL

  1683—MASTER OF PASSION

  1728—GAMBLE ON PASSION

  1757—NOTHING CHANGES LOVE

  1795—THE VALENTINE CHILD

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  ISBN 0-373-11827-9

  A DEVIOUS DESIRE

  First North American Publication 1996.

  Copyright © 1995 by Jacqueline Baird.

  All rights reservad. Except for use In any review, the reproduction or utilization oí this work in whole or in part In any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter Invented, Including xerography, photocopying and recording, or In any Information storage or retrieval system, Is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K@.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the Imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly Inspired by any Individual known or unknown to the author, and all Incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books SA

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ©are registered In the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  CLS 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 32 1

  Printed in U.S.A.

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  Saffron flopped back down on the plastic chair at the roadside café and grinned at the elderly lady seated at the opposite side of the table. 'I've paid the bill and asked the proprietor to call us a taxi, it's half six and we have to be back on board by seven.'

  'Don't fuss, child, and finish your wine.'

  'Your wish is my command,' she quipped. 'But remember that is your third glass. Don't blame me if your arthritis plays up later on.' And with a wry smile tugging her wide mouth Saffron picked up her glass and sipped the sparkling wine. She hadn't the heart to deny Anna a few moments longer at the café is the ancient walled town of Rhodes. A café Anna had spent hours trying to find.

  'What was so important about this particular place?' Saffron asked for the umpteenth time, but not really expecting an answer. Anna had been very secretive about the reason behind her search for tins café, but Saffron wasn't complaining.

  A month ago she had been working as a beauty and aromatherapist for a London agency that provided a personal service to clients in their own homes, and also to a few of the more enlightened city hospitals, when a request for a home visit from Anna Statis's doctor had arrived. The lady had had a fall and badly braised her shoulder, which, combined with arthritis in her knee, had left her in a little difficulty with mobility. He had considered that aromatherapy might help her. Saffron was given the job. Ten days later she had a six-month contract as Anna's personal therapist, and for the past week they had been cruising the Greek Islands on the liner the Pailas Corinthian. Life could not be more perfect. Saffron sighed in contentment, and raised her glass to her lips.

  They had just spent an enjoyable afternoon walking around Rhodes, discovering the Street of the Knights and marvelling at the inns that housed the Knights of St John. Then finally they had found this small bar, much to Anna's delight and Saffron's relief; she did not want the old lady overtired.

  'My son was conceived here.'

  'What?' Saffron jerked upright and swallowed the wine, almost choking with laughter. 'You're having me on. In a pavement café?' Her sparkling green eyes clashed with misty blue ones.

  'It is true. I was a dancer on a cruise ship. Very daring for a well brought up English girl in my era. The ship visited Rhodes regularly and I met and fell in love with a handsome Greek, Nikos Statis, and in a room above this café my son Alexandres was conceived forty years age- this week.'

  Saffron glanced at her employer, not sure whether to believe her. In her mid-sixties, her once blonde hair, now white, was swept up in a loose chignon, revealing the delicate features of a still beautiful face, but a sad, reminiscent, smile hazed ber blue eyes.

  'And now you're back again. How romantic,' Saffron murmured. But privately she had her doubts., Within a week of taking up her live-in job as Anna's therapist she had watched in awe as the old lady had persuaded her doctor that what she needed to make a quick recovery was a cruise! Anna might look fragüe, but she had an amazing ability to get ter own way.

  'Romantic! I thought so at the time,' Anna continued softly. "But I was wrong—so wrong.'

  Saffron was intrigued and, eager to hear more, prompted, 'Wrong...?'

  'Some day I will tell you my life story. I feel the need to tell someone, and in the short time we have been together I feel closer to you than I have to anyone in years. Probably because you have been on your own and lonely most of your life and so have I.'

  'But you have a son,' Anna was always talking about him, but he neglected the woman shamefully. As far as Saffron was aware he had never so much as called his mother since she had started working for Anna.

  'Yes, true.'

  Obviously they were not close. A typical selfish, male, Saffron thought, but at that moment a taxi drew up at the kerb, and she knew any further revelations would have to wait.

  Anna drained her glass and in a lightning mood change grinned. 'Finding this place today has helped me to lay some ghosts. But now we'd better malie tracks, hmm?'

  'Yes,' Saffron agreed and, standing up, she added with a smile, 'I'm glad we found your café. You do look more content.'

  'Content! Yes, do you know I really think I am? Thank you, Saffy.'

  With a tender glance at her boss, Saffron swung her shoulder-bag over her shoulder and gently put a hand under a frail elbow, helping Anna to her feet. She waited and watched as the other woman gave one last lingering look at the top floor oí the building and was just about to help ter iato the car when to Saffron's astonishment someone yelled, 'Get the hell out of the way!' and grabbed the step of her bag, hard fingers scraping her bare flesh.

  Her hand slipped from Anna and she cried a warning. 'Look out! A thief!'

  Years in an orphanage, and lo
oking after herself for most of her life, along with classes in self-defence, had taught Saffron something, and with lightning reflexes her arm shot up, her finger and thumb nipping the front of her attacker's throat while her knee crashed up and into a very male groin. Spinning on her heel, she gently pushed Anna back into her seat. 'Don't worry, Anna, I've got it under control.'

  Saffron shot her a worried glance, and was amazed to see that Anna was not in the least fazed by the unpleasant incident. In feet she was smiling, then chuckling, then laughing!

  'It's not funny—we were nearly robbed.'

  'Oh, Saffy, dear, if I ever had any doubt about your suitability for the job, I don't now!' Amid much laughter mingled with very masculine groans she went on, 'I have never seen anything so funny in my whole life.'

  Saffron, adrenalin still pumping, had no idea how magnificent she looked. At five feet five, with her red- gold hair a wild tangle about her lovely face, and dressed in neat white tailored shorts, braless under a navy strapless tube-top, her green eyes flashing fire, she looked like some avenging Valkyrie.

  'What is so funny?' she demanded, and then spared a glance for the man she had felled. "This man was trying to attack us.' She could not see his face, but she could hear his moans. He was folded double and clutching a very private part of himself.

  They had gathered quite a crowd, including the proprietor of the café, who asked, 'Shall I call the police?'

  The police. . . Saffron hesitated. They had to be back on board soon; if they were delayed by the police they would miss the boat. She glanced at Anna, only to see the other woman wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes with one hand while waving the other frantically in the air as she got out over her amusement. 'No police, no police.'

  'Then let's get in the taxi and go.' Saffron was suddenly conscious of the crowd and being the centre of attention and she did not like it. She hitched her bag more firmly on her shoulder and cast an uneasy glance at her assailant, who had dragged himself to the seat she had recently vacated, and she saw his face. . .

  Night-black hair fell in tousled curls over a broad forehead; perfectly arched brows framed glittering black eyes. The nose was large and slightly hooked, the jaw square, and wide mouth completed the rugged features, but the lips were pulled back in a grimace of pain. Her gaze dropped to his broad shoulders; a plain white T-shirt clung lovingly to a broad chest, the faint trace of dark body hair showing through the fine fabric, and brief denim cut-offs exposed the considerable length of tanned muscular legs, also with a downy covering of black hair. He looked dangerously tough, and suddenly Saffron had serious doubts about what she had done. Her legs felt weak, and she was amazed at her own success in overpowering him. If she had got a good look at him before, she would never have tried. . .

  Odd! He also looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't be. . . Dismissing the uncomfortable thought, she said quickly, 'Come on, Anna; get in the taxi. We don't need to bother with his sort; the police will catch him soon enough.' She opened the car door and put her other hand under Anna's elbow, urging her up and into the taxi. She was desperate to get away. The man looked as if he was getting his wind back and Saffron did not want to be around when he did.

  'No, no, Saffy, you don't understand,' Anna said, still chuckling. "This is my son Alexandras. Alex.'

  'What? Your son!' Incredulity widened her green eyes to their fullest extent. 'I don't believe you. He can't be. . .'

  'But he is. Honestly. . .' Anna, finally controlling lier amusement, answered seriously.

  "Thank you. Mother. I'm glad you found., my distress so hilariously funny.' A deep rich voice broke into the women's exchange.

  Saffron felt as if she had been pole-axed, then her lips began to twitch in the beginnings of a smile as she thought that actually it was the man who was pole-axed, and by her! She knew it was completely the wrong time to find the situation amusing but she could not help it— a snort of laughter escaped her before she could control herself.

  'And as for you, whoever you are, ' the deep volse continued harshly, 'I would not laugh if I were you; if anyone is calling the police around here it will be me for your completely unwarranted attack upon my person.'

  'Oh, for heaven's sate, Alex, listen to yourself! You sound like a pompous ass,' his mother responded, and, grabbing Saffron's arm, she added, "I think you're right, dear; let's get in the taxi and go; we don't want to miss the boat.'

  But their escape was not to be so easy. With a speed that belied his great size and his recent injury, Alex was on his feet and ushering his mother and Saffron into the bask seat of the cab. Sliding in beside them, he then issued instructions to the taxi driver in Greek, and they were on their way.

  'Now, Mother, perhaps you will tell me what you are doing with this red-headed devil—' he cast a venomous glasses at Saffron who was squashed between them, and then looked past her to his mother on a cruise ship touring the islands.'

  'Having a holiday,' Anna said bluntly. ' Saffy is my new companion—and before you say another word Dr Jenkins thoroughly approves.'

  Saffron felt the dark eyes fixed on her, but she kept her head bent, hiding her face. After the excitement of the past half-hour, she was slowly beginning to realise just what she had done. Assaulted her employer's own son. So much for the job of a lifetime, she thought morosely. She had ten counting on this six-month contract with all living expenses provided to boost her bank balance to the magical amount that would enable her to set up her own beauty clinic. She could see her dream disintegrating before her eyes.Burnt to ashes by the heat of anger that shimmered between the taxi's occupants.

  Suddenly Alex aimed a torrent of rapid-fire Greek at Anna, and as if to punctuate his words he stretched a long arm along the back of the seat to touch his mother's shoulder. At the brush of his arm against the back of her neck Saffron almost jumped out of her skin, a tingling awareness making the small hairs on her neck stand on end. Immediately she was shockingly conscious of his powerful masculinity and bitterly resented the fact.

  She had met his type before—hard and ruthless. Even his mother had hinted that they were not very close, and she was lonely. Now Saffron could understand why, given the autocratic way he had bundled them both into the taxi like so much unwanted baggage. 'Arrogant pig!' she thought, then to her honor realised that she had spokes out loud, and the full fury of glittering black eyes was turned on her red face.

  'Woman, if you want to live to see tomorrow I suggest you keep your mouth shut. You have done quite enough harm already. Kidnapping Mother, attacking me. . . One more word and you will be in a Greek gaol so fast your feet won't touch the ground—'

  "That's enough, Alex,' Anna cut in sternly. 'A taxi is not the place to argue, and in any case we have arrived.'

  Alex, without another word, got out of the car and walked around the other side, opening the door for his mother. Saffron slid out on to the dock and glanced up at the cruise liner, then rather warily over the top of the taxi at the other two. As she watched she saw Alex smile and bend down to brush a light kiss on the top of Anna's head before paying the taxi driver then gently taking her arm and leading her up the gangway.

  Saffron hesitated. Perhaps she was wrong. Maybe Alex did not neglect his mother. As she thought back to the scene at the café it struck her. For a woman who said she hardly saw her son, Anna had not been in the least surprised when he had suddenly appeared. In fact she had thought it a huge joke. Odd. Very odd. . .

  A soft sigh fluttered past Saffron's lips. What did it matter? She had little doubt that in a very short time she was going to be out of a job. It would have been nice to finish the cruise but if the murderous expression on Alex Statis's face earlier was anything to go by she would probably be on the next flight out of Rhodes back to England.

  But in that she was mistaken. . .

  Once back on board she deemed it wise to give mother and son some time alone and grasped the chance to speak to a fellow traveller, a nice American gentleman who was travelli
ng alone. She listened to him wax lyrical about the beauty of Lindos—the destination of the shipboard excursion that day—then slowly made her way to the cabin.

  As soon as she walked in the door she immediately sensed the tension in the air. Anna was sitting in an armchair, her lovely face composed, her hands folded neatly in her lap, while Alex paced up and down the cabin like a caged tiger.

  'Don't hurry, will you, Miss Martin?' He fixed her with piercing black eyes, and she shivered at the force of his anger.

  'I wasn't aware there was any hurry,' she snapped back. 'After all, we are on the boat for three more days.'

  'You are not.' Saffron's heart sank at his words. So she was to be sacked! But to her astonishment he continued, 'You are to pack for the pair of you, and be ready to leave as soon as possible. I will arrange with the captain to delay sailing until you are ready, but hurry—every extra minute over departure time is going to cost me dearly.'

  'What?' Saffron wasn't sure she had heard him right. They were leaving the ship, but to go where? 'Where?' she exclaimed.

  'My yacht. And I have no time for questions. Mama insists you fulfill the six-month contract; she seems to think you are invaluable to her.'

  His eyes swept over her from the top of her red head, lingering for a moment too long on the proud thrust of her breasts beneath the brief top she wore, and on down to her narrow waist, slim hips and long legs, then back to her face, his expression saying it all. He couldn't see why! Then, with two lithe strides, he was beside her.

  Her hands curled into fists as she fought down the instinctive urge to push him away; he was much too close. She stiffened, banishing the blush that rose to her cheeks with a mighty effort of self-control. There was something about the man that threatened her in ways she didn't understand. Sexually, she freely admitted, but it was more than that. On some deeper, darker level he threatened her. She knew it instinctively, but not why. She raised her eyes to his harsh face and searched the rough-hewn features with the growing conviction that somehow—somewhere—she knew him. Then suddenly his words penetrated her puzzled mind.