He was built like a rock face and the unease that he had awakened in her before almost surfaced again. Mastering the urge to go into retreat, she managed to smile instead and told herself not to take offence at the smug satisfaction he could barely hide. If Joe Tyler thought she would be a pushover for his muscular charm, he would soon find out how wrong he was.

Six weeks after his previous visit, Cristos flew into London from the South of France.

Timon met him off his flight and handed him a sealed envelope.

Cristos raised a questioning brow. 'What's this?' 'Spyros Zolottas asked me to give it to you before you left the airport.'

Cristos pulled out a brash greetings card signed by his cousin. 'But it's not my birthday,' he said in bewilderment.

Timon looked tense and said nothing. Some minutes later, Cristos came to a halt twenty feet away from the limousine that his P A had indicated across the car park. His mystification came to a sudden end and was replaced by a raw leap of anticipation. He had a photographic memory. It was the same car that had been driven by the beautiful redhead he had admired while in his cousin's company more than a month earlier. He could not initially credit that Spyros could have come up with such a classy surprise.

Timon broke into an urgent explanation, 'Your cousin was determined to surprise you. He said that he would take responsibility for hiring this particular limo company for the weekend but I didn't feel-'

'No need to hyperventilate,' His employer advised in a husky undertone, his bold dark eyes glittering over the female figure already emerging from the driver's seat.

Not even the chauffeur's uniform could conceal her essential perfection. Slender as a reed with a waist that could not be larger than the span of his two hands, she moved with the liquid grace of a dancer.