ut it wasn't open warfare. Nikolas wouldn't allow that, and she was helpless to fight him. The only weapon she had was her coldness, and she used that relentlessly, not giving an inch to him when he came to visit her. He ignored her lack of response and talked to her pleasantly, telling her of the day-to-day happenings on the island and the people who asked about her. Everyone sent their love and wanted to know when she would be out of the hospital, and she found it extraordinarily difficult to keep from responding to that. In the few short days she had been on the island she had been made so welcome that she missed the people there, especially Petra and Sophia.

It was on the morning that she was released from the hospital that Nikolas shredded her self-possession, and he did it so easily that afterward she realized he had only been waiting until she was stronger to take action. When he sauntered into her room and found her already dressed and ready to leave, he kissed her casually before she could draw back, then released her before she could react to that, either.

"I'm glad you're ready," he commented, picking up the small suitcase containing the few clothes he had brought for her stay in the hospital. "Maman and Petra gave me strict orders to bring you back as soon as possible, and Sophia has cooked a special dinner for you.

Would you like to have soupa avgolemono, eh? You liked that, didn't you?"

"Why don't you save yourself the trouble of taking me back and just put me on a plane for London?" she asked coolly.

"And what if you did go to London?" he returned, looking down at her with exasperation in his eyes. "You'd be alone, the butt of more cruelty than you can imagine, especially if you're pregnant."

Stunned, she looked up at him and he said mockingly, "Unless you took precautions? No? I didn't think so, and I confess that the thought never entered my mind."

Impotently she glared at him. She wanted to hit him, and at the same time she melted oddly inside at the thought of having his baby. Damn him, in spite of everything, she knew with a bitter sense of resignation that she still loved him. It wasn't something she would recover from, yet she wanted to hurt him because he had hurt her. She was shocked at the violence of her feelings and she tore her gaze away from him, looking down at her hands.

It took every ounce of her willpower to keep the tears from falling and she said defeatedly, "All right. I'll stay until I know if I'm going to have a baby or not."

"That could take a while," he told her, smiling smugly. "After your fall, your entire system could be out of balance. And I intend to do everything I can to make you pregnant if that's what it takes to keep you on the island."

"Oh!" she cried, drawing away from him, shattered at the thought. Her panic was plain in her eyes as she stared at him. "Nikolas, no. I can't take that again."

"It won't be like that again," he assured her, reaching out to catch her arm.

"I won't let you touch me!"

"That's another right husbands have over wives." He grinned, pulling her to him. "Make up your mind to it now, pet; I'm going to be exercising my marital rights. That's why I married you."

She was so upset that she went without protest to the taxi he had waiting, and she didn't talk to him at all on the drive through Athens to the airport. At any other time she would have been enchanted with the city, but now she was frightened by his words and her head had begun to ache.

Nikolas's own helicopter was at the airport, fueled up and ready for flight, and through a haze of pain Jessica realized that he must have brought her to the hospital in the helicopter. She had no memory of anything after the last time she fainted on the rocks, and suddenly she wanted to know what had happened.

"Nikolas, you found me, didn't you? When I fell?"

"Yes," he said, frowning. He slanted a look down at her and his gaze halted, surveying her pale, strained face.

"What happened then? After you found me, I mean."

He took her arm and led her across the tarmac to the helicopter, walking slowly and letting her lean on him. "At first I thought you were dead," he said remotely, but the harsh breath he drew told her that the memory wasn't something he could handle easily, even now. "When I got down to you, I found that you were still alive and I dug you out from under those rocks, then carried you back up to the villa. Sophia was already up; she was beginning to cook when she saw me coming up the path with you, and she ran to help me."

They had reached the helicopter and he opened the door, then lifted her onto the seat and closed the door securely. He walked around and slid his long frame onto the seat in front of the controls and reached for the headset. He looked at it in his hand, frowning absently. "You were soaked, and shivering," he continued. "While Andros contacted the hospital and made arrangements for transportation from the airport to the hospital, Maman and I stripped you and wrapped you in blankets, then we flew here. You were in deep shock and surgery was postponed, though the doctors were concerned, but Alex told me that you almost certainly wouldn't survive major surgery at that time; your condition had to stabilize before he could even consider it."

"Then I got better," she finished for him, smiling wanly.

He didn't smile in return. "Your responses were better," he muttered. "But you developed a fever, and your lungs were inflamed. Sometimes you were unconscious; sometimes you were delirious and screamed whenever I or any of the doctors came near you." He turned his head to look at her, his eyes flat and bitter. "At least it wasn't just me; you screamed at every man."

She couldn't tell him that it had been him she had feared, and after a moment of silence he put the headset on and reached for the radio controls. Jessica leaned her head back and closed her eyes, willing the throb in her temples to go away, but when the rotors began turning, it increased the pain and she winced. A hand on her knee brought her eye-lids fluttering open and at Nikolas's concerned, questioning gaze she put her hands over her ears to let him know what was wrong. He nodded and patted her leg sympathetically, which made her want to cry. She closed her eyes again, shutting out the vision of him.

Unbelievably, she slept on the flight back to the island. Perhaps there was something in the medication she was still taking that made her drowsy, but Nikolas had to wake her when the flight was over and she sat up in confusion to see what seemed like the entire population of the island turned out for her arrival. Everyone was smiling and waving and she waved back, touched to tears by the warmth she felt from the islanders. Nikolas jumped from the helicopter, yelling something that made everyone laugh, then he reached her side as she released her seat belt and he slid the door open.

With an ease that both frightened and elated her, he reached in and lifted her against his chest "I can walk," she protested.

"Not down the hill," he said. "You're still too wobbly. Put your arms around me, love; let everyone see what they want to see."

It was true that when she slid her arms around his muscular neck it seemed to please everyone, and several jocular-sounding remarks were made to him, to which he responded with grins and several remarks of his own. Jessica promised herself that she would learn Greek without delay; she wanted to know what he was saying about her.

He carried her down to the villa and straight to his bedroom, for she couldn't think of it as theirs. As he placed her on the bed, she looked around wildly, and before she could choke the words back, she cried out, "I can't sleep here, Nikolas!"

With a sigh he sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry you feel that way, darling, because you'll have to sleep here. Rather, you'll have to sleep with me, and that's what has you worried, isn't it?"

"Can you blame me?" she questioned fiercely.

"Yes, I can," he returned calmly, his black eyes implacable. "You're an intelligent, adult woman, and you should be capable of realizing that future lovemaking between us will be nothing like our wedding night. I was half-drunk, frustrated, and I lost control. You were frightened and angry and you fought me. The result was predictable and you got hurt. It won't be like that again, Jessica. The next time I take you, you'll enjoy it as much as I will."

"Can't you understand that I don't want you?" she flashed, unreasonably angry that he should so calmly plan on making love to her when she had said he couldn't. "Really, Nikolas, your conceit must be colossal if you imagine that I'd want to sleep with you after that night."

Temper flared in his eyes. "You can thank God that I know you so well, Jessica, or I'd make you regret those words!" he snapped. "But I do know you, and I know that when you're hurt and frightened you strike back like a spitting, clawing kitten, and you have years of practice in putting on that cold mask of yours. Oh, no, darling, you don't fool me. No matter how your pride tells you to resist me, I remember a night in London when you came to me and whispered that you loved me. You were sweet and shy that night; you weren't acting. Do you remember it, too?"

Jessica's eyes closed in horror. That night! How could she forget? And how like Nikolas to remember the secret she had said aloud, thinking that he'd return the sweet words and admit to loving her. But he hadn't, not then and not since. Words of passion had come from his lips, but never words of love. Shaking, she cried out, "Remember? How can I forget? Like a fool I let you get too close to me, and the words were barely out of my mouth when you slapped me in the face with your true opinion of me. At least you opened my eyes, jerked me out of my silly dream. Love isn't immortal, Nikolas. It can die."

"Your's didn't die," he murmured confidently, a smile curving his hard, chiseled lips. "You married me, and you wanted your white gown for the wedding. You wore your hair in the style of a virgin; yes, I noticed. Everything you did shouted that you were marrying me forever, and that's how it will be. I've hurt you, darling, and I've made you unhappy, but I'll make it up to you. By the time our first baby is born, you'll have forgotten that I ever made you shed a tear."

That remark almost made her leap off the bed, and to prove him wrong she promptly burst into tears, which played havoc with her headache. With a comforting murmur Nikolas took her in his arms and lay down on the bed with her to hold her close and whisper soothingly to her, and perversely his nearness did calm her. At last she hiccupped into silence and nestled closer against him, her face buried in his shirt. Out of that doubtful sanctuary she said hesitantly, "Nikolas?"

"Yes, darling?" he muttered, his deep voice rumbling under her ear.

"Will—will you give me a little time, please?" she asked, raising her tear-stained face to him.

"I'll only give you time to recover completely," he replied, brushing her hair back from her temples with gentle fingers. "Beyond that, I won't wait. I can't. I still want you like mad, Mrs. Constantinos. Our wedding night was a mere appetizer."

She quivered in his arms at the sudden vision she had of being devoured by him, as if he were a hungry animal. She felt torn by indecision, loving him but unable to give in to him, to trust him or know what he was about. "Please don't rush me," she whispered. "I'll try; I really will. But I—I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you."

One corner of his mouth jerked before he firmed his lips together and said, "Forgive me or not, you're still mine, and I'll never let you go. I'll repeat it as many times as I have to to make you believe me."

"We've made a mess of it, Niko," she whispered painfully, tears filling her eyes again as she used the shortened, affectionate version of his name for the first time.

"Yes, I know," he muttered, his eyes going bleak. "We'll just have to try to salvage something and make our marriage work."

After he had gone, Jessica lay on the bed trying to quiet her confused emotions; she felt so many things at once that she was helpless to sort them out. With part of herself she wanted to melt into his arms and give in to the love which she still felt for him in spite of everything that had happened; the other part of her was bitterly angry and resentful and wanted to get as far away from him as possible. For years, she had suppressed pain and loneliness, but Nikolas had ripped away the barrier of her self-control and she could no longer push away or ignore the aches. Her long-controlled emotions were boiling out of her in a bitter release, and she resented the way he had torn away her defenses.

What a mockery of a marriage, she thought tiredly. A woman shouldn't require defenses against her husband; a marriage should be based on mutual trust and respect, and even now Nikolas felt neither of those things for her. She had thought that when he realized how wrong his assumptions concerning her had been, his entire attitude would change, but she'd been wrong. Perhaps he no longer resented her so bitterly, but he still would not allow her any authority concerning her own life. He wanted to control her, make her every movement subject to his whim, and Jessica didn't think she could tolerate a life like that.

After a time she dozed, and woke to the long shadows of late afternoon. Her headache had eased; in fact, it was gone, and she felt better than she had since the accident. Getting out of bed, she walked carefully to the bathroom, fearing an onset of her headache, but it didn't return and gratefully she stripped off her wrinkled clothing and ran water in the huge, red-tiled sunken tub. Petra had supplied the bathroom with an assortment of toiletries that surely Nikolas had never used, unless he had a hidden passion for perfumed bubble bath, and she poured the liquid liberally into the tub until it had mountains of foam in it.

After pinning her hair up, she stepped into the tub and sank down until the bubbles tickled her chin. She reached for the soap, then gave a frightened squeal as the door opened without warning. Nikolas stepped through, a worried frown creasing his brow, but the frown turned into a grin as he surveyed her where she lay, all but submerged in the bubbles. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he said.

"I'm taking a bath," she said indignantly, and his grin spread wider.

"So I see," he agreed, dropping his tall frame onto the floor by the tub and sprawling out to lean on his elbow. "I'll keep you company, since this is the first time I've been privileged to witness your bath and wild horses couldn't drag me away."

"Nikolas!" she wailed, her cheeks flushing red.

"Now, calm down," he soothed, reaching out to run a finger over her nose. "I promised you that I wouldn't make a pass at you, and I won't, but I didn't promise that I wouldn't get to know my wife and let her become accustomed to me."

He was lying. Suddenly she knew that he was lying and she jerked away from his hand, tears springing to her eyes. "Get away from me!" she cried hoarsely. "I don't believe you, Nikolas! I can't stand it. Please, please go away!" If he stayed, he would take her to bed and make love to her, regardless of his promise. He had only told her that to catch her off guard, and she couldn't submit to him again. Shuddering sobs began to quake through her body, and with a muffled curse he got to his feet, his face darkening with fury.

"All right," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll leave you alone. God, how I'll leave you alone! A man can take only so much, Jessica, and I've had it! Keep your empty bed; I'll sleep elsewhere." He stormed out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him with a force that jarred it on its hinges, and a second later she heard the bedroom door slam, too.

She winced and drew a shuddering breath, trying to control herself again. Oh, it was useless; this marriage would never work. Somehow she'd have to convince Nikolas to set her free, and after tonight that shouldn't be too difficult.

Nikolas, however, proved himself unyielding in his refusal to let her leave the island. She was aware that he looked at the situation as a battle he had every intention of winning, despite her constant maneuvering to keep a comfortable distance between them. She also saw that his anger at her in the bathroom had been largely staged, for what reason she didn't know. He was irritated that she didn't fall into his arms whenever he touched her, the way she had prior to their marriage, but he had no intention of denying himself the pleasures of her body if he could find the slightest weakness in her resistance. He was simply waiting, watching her carefully, ready to pounce.

The strain of keeping up a front of calmness and serenity before everyone else was telling on her, but she didn't want to distress Nikolas's mother, or even Petra or Sophia. Everyone had been so kind to her—after her release from the hospital she had been coddled shamelessly by the entire household—that the last thing she wanted was to worry them with a warlike atmosphere. By silent, mutual consent, she and Nikolas let it be assumed that he slept in another room because her head still ached and his restlessness interfered with her sleep. As she was still plagued by headaches if she tried to exert herself in any way, the explanation was accepted without question.

Without making a big production out of it, she pretended that she was not recovering as rapidly as she really was, using her physical condition as a weapon against Nikolas. She rested frequently and would sometimes slip away without comment to lie down with a cold, damp cloth over her eyes and forehead. Someone would usually check on her before too long, and in that manner she made certain the entire household was aware of her delicacy. She hated to trick them like that, but she had to protect herself, and she was aware that she would have to take whatever chance presented itself if she was to escape from the island. If everyone thought her weaker than she actually was, she had a better chance of succeeding.

The opportunity presented itself the next week when Nikolas informed them at the dinner table that he and Andros were flying to Athens the following morning; they would spend the night and return to the island the next day. Jessica was careful not to look up, certain that her expression would give her away. This was it! All she had to do was to hide on board the helicopter, and once they had landed in Athens and Nikolas and Andros had left to attend their meeting, she could slip out of the craft, walk into the terminal building, and purchase a ticket for a flight out of Athens.

She spent the evening making her plans; she retired early and packed the essentials she would take with her in the smallest suitcase she had, then replaced the case in the closet. She checked her purse to make certain that the money she had brought was still in her wallet; it was, as Nikolas no doubt felt certain that no one on the island was susceptible to a bribe, and in that he was probably correct. But she hadn't even thought of that, and now she was glad that she hadn't, as he would probably have taken the money away from her if she had tried something like that.

She counted the money carefully; when she had left England to travel to Paris with Nikolas, she had provided herself with enough cash to buy anything she might want, or to cover any emergency she was likely to encounter. Every penny was still there. She wasn't certain that it was enough to purchase a ticket to London, but she could certainly get out of Greece. Even if she could only get as far as Paris, she could telephone Charles and have him wire extra funds to her. Nikolas had control of her business concerns, but she hadn't emptied her bank account, and those funds were still available to her.

Later, when everyone had retired, she would take the suitcase and hide it in the helicopter. From her previous trips in it, she knew that there was a small space behind the rear seats, and she thought that there was enough room for both herself and the suitcase. To be certain, she would take a dark blanket and huddle under it on the floor if she couldn't get behind the seats. Remembering the construction of the helicopter, she thought it would be possible for someone to hide in that manner. The helicopter was built to carry six passengers, and the seats were broad and comfortable. Nikolas would pilot the craft himself, and Andros would be in the seat next to him; there would be no reason for them to look behind the rear seats.

As a plan, it had a lot of drawbacks, relying too heavily on chance and happenstance, but it was the only plan she had and probably the only chance she would have, as well, so she had to take the risk. It wasn't in her mind to disappear forever, but only until she'd had the chance to become certain within herself how she felt about Nikolas, and whether or not she wanted to continue with their marriage. All she asked was a little time and a little distance, but Nikolas wouldn't willingly give her what she needed. Jessica felt that she had been pushed and pulled more than she could stand. From the moment she had met Nikolas, he had maneuvered and manipulated her until she felt more like a doll than a woman, and it had become essential to her that she regain control of her own life.

Once, naively, she had thought that love could solve any problem, but that was another dream that had been shattered. Love didn't solve anything; it merely complicated matters. Loving Nikolas had brought her a great deal of pain and very little in the way of happiness. Some women could have been content with the physical gratification that he offered and accepted that he didn't love them in return, but Jessica wasn't certain that she possessed the sort of strength that required. That was what she had to discover about herself: whether she loved Nikolas enough to live with him regardless of the circumstances, whether she could make herself accept the fact that she had his desire but not his love. A lot of marriages were based on less than love, but she had to be certain before she let herself be maneuvered once again into a corner with nowhere to turn.

She knew her husband; his plan was to get her pregnant, thereby tying her irrevocably to the island and to him. She also knew that she had very little time left before he began putting his plan into action. He'd left her alone thus far, but she was nearly fully recovered now, and she sensed with sharpened instincts that he was now entirely unconvinced by her charade and would come to her bed at any time. She knew that she had to escape now if she was to have that time by herself to decide on a calm, reasonable level whether she could continue living with him.

After putting her purse away, she prepared for bed and turned out the lights, not wanting to do anything suspicious. She lay quietly in bed, her body relaxed but her mind alert to every sound in the villa.

The bedroom door opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered form threw a long shadow over her. "Are you awake?" Nikolas asked quietly.

For answer, Jessica reached out and switched on the lamp. "Is something wrong?" She struggled up to prop herself on her elbow, her eyes wide and wary as she watched him enter the room and close the door behind him.

"I need a few things from the closet," he informed her, and her heart stopped as she watched, paralyzed, while he crossed to the closet and slid the doors open. What if he should take the suitcase that contained the clothing she had packed? Why hadn't she insisted that he take his things out of the closet? But that would have looked odd to his mother, and in all honesty he hadn't taken advantage of the situation. What clothing he needed, he took from the closet sometime during the day, and never at times when he might find her undressed.

He took down one of his own suitcases made of dark brown leather, and she drew a shuddering breath of relief. He looked at her sharply. ' 'Are you feeling all right? You look ilk"

"Just the usual headache." She forced herself to answer calmly, and before she could stop herself she blurted out, "Do you want me to pack for you?"

A grin slashed the darkness of his face. "Do you think I'll make an unholy mess of folding my shirts? I manage well enough, but thank you for the offer. When I return," he added thoughtfully, "I think I'll take you back to Dr. Theotokas for another examination."

She didn't want that, but as she planned to be gone before then she made no protest. "Because of the head-aches? Didn't he say that it would take time for them to go away?"

He took a shirt from the clothes hanger and folded the garment neatly before placing it in the opened suitcase. "Yes, but I think you should be making a better recovery than you are. I want to make certain there aren't any other complications."

Like a pregnancy? The thought sprang without warning into her mind, and she began to tremble. It was possible, of course, but surely too early to tell. She didn't have any idea herself as yet. But wouldn't it be ironic if she managed to escape Nikolas's clutches and found that she was already pregnant? She wasn't certain what she would do if those circumstances arose, so she pushed the thought from her mind.

Conversation lapsed, and she propped herself higher on the pillow and watched as he completed his packing. When he closed the case and set it aside, he came to sit beside her on the bed. Uneasy at his nearness, she didn't say anything, her eyes unwavering as she watched him. A crooked little smile twitched at his lips. "I'll be leaving at dawn," he murmured, "so I won't wake you up. Will you give me a good-bye kiss tonight?"

She wanted to refuse, yet part of her yielded, held her motionless as he bent down and lightly pressed his mouth to hers. It wasn't a demanding kiss, and he straightened away from her almost immediately. "Good night, darling," he said softly, and putting his hands on her ribcage he eased her down beneath the light covers and began to tuck them in around her. She raised her eyes to meet his and gave him a small, timid smile, but it was enough to still his hands in their occupation.

He caught his breath, and his dark eyes began to gleam as the muted glow of the lamp caught their expression. "Good night," he said again, and leaned over her.

This time his mouth lingered, moving over her lips and molding them to meet the pressure of his. The pressure wasn't intense, but still the contact remained, warm and enticing, his breath sweet and heady with the wine they had had with dinner. Unconsciously she put her hand on his arm and stroked her fingers upward to clasp his shoulder, then on to curve about his neck. He deepened the kiss, his tongue meeting hers and exploring, making exciting forays against the sensitive places he found, and Jessica felt herself drifting into the red haze of sensual pleasure, not yet alarmed by his touch.

With a slow movement he folded the covers down far enough to let the soft curves of her breasts become visible to his avid gaze. He lifted his head from hers and watched as his long fingers slid beneath the thin silk of her nightgown and curved over the rich flesh, then moved up again to catch the strap and draw it down her arm. Jessica made a small gesture of fear, but he was being so slow and gentle that she didn't struggle; instead her lips sought his flesh eagerly, tasting the slightly salty taste of the skin-along his cheekbone, the curve of his jaw. He turned his head and their mouths met again, and her eyelashes fluttered closed. The leisurely movement of his hand urged the pink silk slowly lower, baring the upper curve of one breast. Then the delicate rosy nipple was free and his hand left the strap to capture her exposed beauty.

"Now I'll kiss you good night," he whispered and he shifted so that his mouth slid down the arched curve of her throat. He paused, and his tongue explored the sensitive hollow between her neck and shoulder blade, making her shiver with a delight which was rapidly growing beyond her control. She didn't care. If he had only been this slow and tender on their wedding night, perhaps none of their problems would still exist. She lay quietly under his wandering touch, enjoying the delicate sensations and the spreading heat in her body.

Then his lips continued their journey and moved down the satin slope to close hotly over the throbbing bud. She moaned aloud and arched her back, her hand clenched in the rich thickness of his hair as she held his head to her. The gently pulling motions of his mouth set sharp twinges of pure physical desire shooting along her nerve endings. Her trembling intensified, and she started to reach for him; then he released her flesh and lifted his head, drawing back from her.

He was smiling, but the smile was sharp with triumph. "Good night, darling," he murmured, drawing the strap onto her shoulder again. "I'll see you in two days." Then he was gone, taking the suitcase and closing the door silently behind him, and Jessica lay on the bed, biting her lips to keep from screaming in both fury and frustration. He'd done that deliberately, seducing her with his gentleness until she forgot her fear, then not taking her to fulfillment. Were his actions motivated by revenge for the way she'd refused his advances before, or was it all a calculated maneuver to bring her to heel? She rather thought it was the latter, but she was more determined than ever not to give in to him. She would not be his sexual slave!

The thought of her escape gave her grim pleasure. He was so certain of his victory; let him wonder what had gone wrong when he found that his wife had fled rather than sleep with him. Nikolas was far too selfish and self-confident; it would do him a world of good to have someone stand up to him every so often.

She set the alarm on the clock for 2:00 a.m., then settled down in the bed, hoping she could sleep. She did, eventually, but had had only a few hours of rest when the alarm went off. She silenced it quickly and got out of bed, then used the flashlight that was always in the drawer of the table by the bed to find her jeans, shirt, and a pair of crepe-soled shoes. She inched the closet door open and removed the small suitcase, then went over to the sliding glass doors that led to the terrace. She released the lock with only a faint click, her hands steady as she slid the door open just enough to allow her to slip through the opening. Hastily she switched off the flashlight, hoping no one was up at this hour to see the betraying light.

There was no moon, but the faint starlight was enough to guide her as she avoided the furniture set about the terrace and made her way silently around to the front of the house. She left the terrace and followed the flagstone path which led up the hill to the helicopter pad. She had gone only a short distance when her legs began to ache and tremble with fatigue, an unwelcome reminder that she truly wasn't completely recovered. Her heart was hammering in her chest when she finally reached the helicopter, and she paused for a moment, breathing rapidly.

The door of the aircraft opened easily, and she crawled inside, banging her hip painfully with the suitcase and muttering an imprecation at the unwieldy luggage. She switched the flashlight on again to pick her way between the seats to the rear. The space behind the rear seats was a mere two feet deep, and she found immediately, by trying to curl up inside it, that it could not accommodate both herself and the suitcase. She placed the suitcase on the floor between the last two sets of seats, but decided that it could be seen too easily in that location.

She studied the interior of the helicopter for a minute, then folded herself once again into the hiding place and stood the suitcase between herself and the back of the seat; the seat was tilted forward a little, but not enough to be noticeable, she hoped. The position was cramped, and she wouldn't be able to move at all until they had landed in Athens and Nikolas and Andros had left, but it was the best she could manage. She left the suitcase in position and crawled out, her legs and arms already stiff from the short time she had been crouching there. She had intended to bring a blanket but had forgotten it, and now she promised herself that when she hid herself prior to takeoff she would have a blanket to cushion the hardness of the cold metal.

Elated, she carefully crept down the hill and into her bedroom and closed the sliding door behind her. She could have waited in the helicopter, but she had a cautious hunch that Nikolas might look in on her before he left, and she intended to be snug in her bed; underneath the nightgown, though, she would still have on her clothes.

Then she saw that she would have to remove her shirt if she didn't want it to be visible above the nightgown, and she wouldn't have a chance to put it on again. She would have very little time in which to reach the helicopter ahead of the two men, and she didn't want to waste any of it in dressing. She would keep the shirt on, and pull the covers up under her chin.

She kicked her shoes off and stood them beside the bed on the side away from the door, then lay down to rest. She wasn't even tempted to nap; her blood was rac-ing through her veins in excitement, and she waited impatiently for the faint sounds in the silent house that would indicate that someone was moving around.

The sky was just beginning to lighten when she caught the sound of water running and knew that she hadn't long to wait now. She turned on her side to face the door and pulled the covers up snugly under her chin. Forcing herself to breathe deeply and steadily, she waited.

She didn't hear his footsteps; he moved as silently as a big cat, and the first indication she had of his presence was when the door opened almost without a sound and a thin sliver of light fell across the bed. Jessica concentrated on her breathing and peeped through her lashes at him as he stood in the doorway watching her. The seconds ticked away and panic began to coil in her stomach; why was he waiting? Did he sense that something was out of the ordinary?

Then he closed the door with a slow movement, and she drew a deep, shuddering breath of relief. She threw back the covers and slid her feet into the waiting shoes, then snatched up the dark brown blanket that she had gotten out earlier but forgotten to take with her, and let herself out the sliding doors.

Her heart was in her throat, interfering with her breathing as she ran as silently as she could around the house and up the hill. How long did she have? Seconds? If they left the house before she was inside the helicopter, they would see her. Had Nikolas been dressed? She couldn't remember. Panting, she gained the crest of the hill and threw herself at the helicopter, wrenching at the door. It had opened so easily before, but now it was stubborn, and she fumbled at it for several agonizing seconds before the handle turned and the door opened. She scrambled in and closed the door, throwing a hasty look at the house to see if they were coming. No one was in sight yet, and she slumped in the front seat, limp with relief. She hadn't known that escaping would be so nerve-racking, she thought tiredly. Her entire body ached from the unaccustomed exertion, and her head had begun to throb.

Her movements were slower as she crawled to the back of the helicopter and tilted the seat forward to allow her into her hiding place. She spread the blanket and curled up in the space, her head pillowed on her arm. She was so tired that, despite the uncomfortable position, she felt herself begin to drift into sleep, and it wasn't until Nikolas and Andros boarded the helicopter that she jerked herself back to awareness. They had noticed nothing unusual, it seemed, but she held her breath.

They exchanged a few words in Greek, and she gnawed her lip in frustration that she couldn't understand them. Madame Constantinos and Petra had taught her a few words, but she hadn't made much progress.

Then she heard the whine of the rotor as it began turning, and she knew that her plan had worked.

The vibration of the metal made her feel as if her skin were crawling, and already she had a cramp in her left calf. She cautiously moved her arm to rub the painful cramp, glad that the beating roar of the blades drowned out all sound. The noise reached a peculiar whine, and they lifted off, the aircraft tilting forward as Nikolas turned it away from the house and toward the sea that lay between the island and Athens.

Jessica had no idea how long the flight lasted, for her head was aching so badly that she closed her eyes and tried to lose herself in sleep. She didn't quite succeed, but she must have dozed because it was the cessation of noise as the blades slowed that alerted her to the fact that they had landed. Nikolas and Andros were talking, and after a moment they both left the helicopter. Jessica lay there listening to the dying whir of the blades. She was afraid to get out immediately in case they were still in the area, so she counted slowly to one thousand before she left her hiding place.

She was so stiff that she had to sit in a seat and rub her protesting legs before they would obey her, and her feet tingled as the circulation was restored. Retrieving the suitcase from behind the seat, she peered out, but could see no one who resembled her husband; so she took a deep breath, opened the door, and climbed out of the helicopter.

It surprised her that no one paid any attention to her as she walked casually across the tarmac and entered the terminal building. She knew from her own experiences that comings and goings at air terminals were carefully watched, and the very fact that no one stopped her to ask her business made her uneasy. It was still early, and though there were a good many people in the building it lacked the crush of the later hours; the women's rest room was almost empty, and none of the women there noticed her as she slipped into one of the stalls and locked the door, then opened her suitcase and took out her purse and the dress she was going to wear. Marveling at the modem fabrics which didn't wrinkle, she stripped off her jeans and shirt and folded them into the open case, then struggled into panty hose and pulled the dress over her head. The smooth, silky fabric felt good against her skin, and she settled the ice blue garment into place, then contorted her arms behind her back to do up the zipper.

Comfortable, classic pumps completed the outfit. She placed her other shoes in the suitcase, then fastened it and picked it up in one hand, together with her purse, and left the cubicle.

She did a quick job on her hair, twisting it up and securing it loosely with a few pins, and added glossy coral color to her mouth. Her eyes stared back at her from the mirror, wide and filled with alarm, and she wished that she had sunglasses to hide behind.

Leaving the security of the rest room, she approached the ticket counter and asked the cost of a tourist class ticket to London. Luckily the fare was well within her means, and she purchased a ticket for the next available flight, but there she was stalled. The next flight wasn't until after lunch, and Jessica quailed at the thought of waiting that long. She would be missed on the island long before that; probably even now it had been noticed that she wasn't to be found. Would they search the island first, or notify Nikolas that his wife had disappeared? If only she'd thought to leave a note telling them that she'd gone with Nikolas! That way, no one would have known that she was missing, until Nikolas returned without her.

Her stomach protested its emptiness; so she went to the restaurant and ordered a light breakfast, then sat at the small table trying to force the food down her tight throat. The thought of something going wrong at this late stage was horrifying.

Leaving most of her meal on the plate, she purchased a fashion magazine and tried to ignore her anxiety as she flipped through the glossy pages, noting the newest styles. A glance at her watch increased her anxiety; surely Nikolas had been notified by now. What would he do? He had endless resources; he could tighten security to make certain that she didn't leave the country. She had to be on that jet before he discovered that she had left the island.

The clock ticked slowly, laboriously on. She forced herself to sit quietly, not wanting to draw attention to herself by pacing or in any way betraying her nervousness. The terminal was crowded now as tourists poured into Athens, and she tried to concentrate on the stream of people. How much longer? It was almost noon now. An hour and a half and she would be on her way, provided that there were no delays in takeoff.

When she felt someone at her elbow, she didn't respond immediately, hoping that it was a stranger, but the utter stillness told her that this was a forlorn hope. Fatalistically, Jessica turned her head and gazed calmly into the stony black eyes of her husband.

Though his face was expressionless, she could feel the force of his anger, and she knew that he was livid. Never before had she seen him this angry, and it took more courage than she had known she possessed to stand before him and give him back look for look, but she did it, lifting her chin defiantly. A savage glitter lit his eyes for a brief second, then he disciplined himself and leaned down to pick up her suitcase. "Come with me," he uttered between clenched teeth, and his long fingers wrapped around her arm to ensure that she did as he had ordered.