“I can’t…”

He lifted his head. His eyes gleamed. “You can.”

“I want…more.”

He must’ve understood her incoherent mumbles. There was the sound of foil tearing and a moment later he’d crawled over her, his chest hard and sleek against her taut, aching breasts. Then his mouth was over hers, his tongue hungry and plundering as he took her mouth in a kiss so hot, so wild, that her hips bucked under him. Impatient. Desperate.

His hand closed on her breast. Heat seared through her, stabbing between her legs. She bent her knees up, tilted her hips, hinting, clamouring for more.

Angelo moved against her. She could feel his erection, the blunt tip sliding against her. She was ready for him.

He pushed forward and slid all the way in. Gemma moaned, a hoarse primal sound, as pleasure shafted her. Her arms went round his neck, tightening. And her legs wrapped round him, locking him to her.

There was a moment when he lay utterly still, filling her, and then he pulled back a little, and sank forward again. The friction was intense. The pace ratcheted up.

Gemma’s breathing quickened, shallow gasps that sounded overloud in the quiet room.

She squeezed her eyes even more tightly shut, focusing on the friction, the sensation that arced through her, from between her legs, through her belly, to her nipples, to her tongue that slid wildly against his.

There was an instant of darkness, the world went black and then she was shivering into a void of light.

Angelo groaned, and she felt him pulsing deep inside her. “Hell, it’s never been like that,” he muttered hoarsely. “Never.”

As his words registered, the brightness faded, and a shiver of apprehension shook her.

Her final show had arrived. Tonight Gemma wore a black dress with spaghetti straps that made her dark red hair appear redder than ever. The low scooped back revealed her carefully cultivated tan and Gemma took her time applying makeup to emphasize her eyes and lips. By the time she was finished, she knew she looked good.

Her time on stage passed in a blur. She squinted past the lights but couldn’t locate Angelo at any of the tables. At last she gave up and tried to concentrate on the words she was singing, on communicating the meaning of the song to the audience, but some of the lustre had gone.

She left the stage with a sinking heart. Her time on Strathmos was over.

On the way to her dressing room, Denny waved and Gemma gave him a half-hearted smile.

Pushing the door open, her eyes widened at the unexpected sight of Angelo reclining in her dressing room. Gemma hesitated on the threshold.

He should’ve looked out of place surrounded by the heap of glittery clothes that Lucie had abandoned on the floor. But he didn’t. Instead he looked unfairly at ease as he dwarfed the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

She averted her eyes from his gold hair and bright, piercing eyes and the taut body encased in the beautifully fitting dark suit. Warily, she entered the dressing room and closed the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. Since this morning, you’ve been impossible to find. I don’t intend to let you run out on me tonight.”

Last night had been so special…earth shattering…she hadn’t been able to face him this morning. She’d needed time alone to come to terms with it.

“I wouldn’t have run out on you.” They needed to talk. He was going to be furious with her. Her heart clenched at the thought of the coming confrontation.

“Join me for dinner?”

Dark and deep, that voice did stuff to her that should be declared illegal. “Anywhere except your penthouse.” She didn’t want to make love, it would distract her from what she had to say.

The smile he gave her was irresistible. “Endaxi. Okay.”

He took her to the Golden Fleece. The decor was rich and warm with exquisitely painted murals on the walls of Jason and the Argonauts performing daring deeds. The high-backed chairs, white table linen and dim lighting, together with the hushed service gave it an outrageously exclusive ambience. As the meal progressed, and the conversation topics remained general, the tension that grasped Gemma started to unwind.

Gemma declined desert in favour of coffee and while they were waiting for it to arrive, she examined a mural depicting Jason with a woman who must be Medea. Angelo followed her gaze. “She was hard work, a sorceress and a witch.”

“Yes, but he didn’t do right by her. She helped him gain the fleece, he took her back to Corinth and married her. But then decided it was too tough to be married to a woman who was a witch-and a foreigner to boot. So he planned to dump her and marry another woman.”

“Except Medea spiked that plan rather dramatically.” Angelo’s lips curved in a wry smile.

“Poor Glauce,” Gemma agreed. “She certainly didn’t deserve what she got. Medea’s sending a robe steeped in poison as a wedding gift was downright evil.”

“You know your Greek mythology pretty well.”

“I should do. My father lectured classics. I grew up on the ancient myths. Greek and Roman.”

Angelo shot her a surprised stare. “You never told me that.”

Uh-oh. Gemma wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Mandy had never been much of a reader, she’d hated what she called “Dad’s boring tales.”

“So how did you end up a singer?”

“My mother could play the piano reasonably well, so I learned to play, too. I loved to sing, so it wasn’t long before I started going for specialist lessons.”

“And dancing…what did your mother say about your dance career?”

She drew a deep breath. Should she tell him now? He was smiling at her, his eyes warm. No. In a little while. She wanted just a little longer. “Actually Mum was responsible for that. She was a professional ballet dancer. After w-I…” she broke off at the near give away “…I was born, she opened a dance school and taught lots of little girls instead of performing live-she wanted to spend time with-” us “-me. What about you?” She shifted the focus of the conversation to him. “When did you know what you were going to do?”

“On my thirteenth birthday my grandfather took me out for lunch and told me that one day I would inherit the chain of hotels he owned, and to prepare myself to look after them. My cousin Zac bore the family name, so he would inherit the Kyriakos Shipping Corporation. Tariq was to inherit the oil refineries.

“My grandfather also promised me I’d inherit the three islands he owned-Strathmos, Kalos and Delinos. I’d spent the first years of my life on Strathmos, so I knew it well. After that day I absorbed everything I could about the hospitality industry, about business, that I could lay my hands on.”

There was a pause when the coffee arrived. Gemma reflected on the single-mindedness of the man sitting opposite. He’d known what he wanted and gone after it. He been responsible for a large part of his success. There was a lot more to him than the playboy image he projected to the media.

After they’d finished their coffees Angelo walked back to her unit. At the door he took the key from her and unlocked the door before following her in.

Gemma’s heart started to knock against her ribs.

“Another coffee?” she asked, desperate for something to do while he stood in her space. Her voice was several notches higher than usual.

“Why not?” Mercifully, he moved away, and Gemma was able to breathe again. He picked up the photo on the bench top and instantly the tension was back, turning her rigid with anxiety. Her breath ragged, she said, “No sugar, right?”

“Black. No sugar.”

It figured he wouldn’t share her lethally sweet tooth. She emptied sweetener into her coffee and hoped she’d be able to sleep tonight given all the caffeine she was consuming.

“You’re holding a cat.”

“What?” She stared at him trying to make sense of the comment, to reconcile it with the rising tension that incapacitated her, numbed her ability to think straight.

“In the photo, you’re holding a cat.” His voice was endlessly patient.

Her brow wrinkled. “Yes, Snuggles.”

“You told me you were allergic to cats.”

Uh-huh. Gemma stiffened, wary of a trap. “I am,” she said slowly. “Snuggles belongs to my parents.”

“So why are you holding him? In the churchyard you told me how cats affect you.”

Tell him.

She stared at him, her mind went blank. Her tongue felt thick, she scratched for words. “Because he always comes to me. He likes to see me red-eyed and sneezy.”

That, at least, was true. Snuggles, the darn cat, had a wicked sense of the misery he caused her. But of course, the real truth was that she wasn’t holding Snuggles in the photo. Mandy was. And Mandy had no allergy to felines of any description.

The tightrope of lies she was balancing upon became ever more precarious. And when Angelo put the photo down, she said a prayer of thanks and placed the two mugs on the coffee table in front of the loveseat.

Appearing satisfied with her explanation, he sank onto the plump seat. “When are you thinking of leaving?”

“Tomorrow. I’ll catch the midday ferry, spend a couple of days in Athens sightseeing and then I’ll fly back to Auckland.”

“It’s too soon.” His eyes turned to flame. “Come here.”

Tell him. “Angelo-” Gemma backed up at the intent in his brilliant eyes “-I’m not going to sleep with you.”

“Who said anything about sleeping?” There was an intimacy in his gaze that did dangerous things to her equilibrium. “I just want a kiss.”

A kiss…one final kiss…She went into his arms. It felt like she was coming home. And that created a maelstrom of emotions churning within her. Guilt. Confusion. Regret that she hadn’t met him long before Mandy.

But it didn’t stop her responding to him.

When he lifted his head they were both breathing fast.

“Some kiss,” she said.

He didn’t smile. Eyes intent, he said, “I have to leave for Kalos tomorrow. I have a series of meetings there. Come with me.”

She started to shake her head.

“Please, come. You can stay as long as you like. I don’t want you to leave again.”

He still thought she was Mandy. But Mandy was dead. And she was alive.

Disturbed by the direction her thoughts were taking, she rose. She needed to tell him the truth. And leave. She couldn’t allow herself to be tempted to stay. Even though she wanted to. More than anything.

He grasped her hand and pulled her back. She landed on his lap. With an embarrassed laugh she struggled to extricate herself. He wouldn’t let her.

Face close to hers, he said, “I want to spend time with you-more than I want you in my bed.” There was a hint of bewilderment in his eyes.

And that was when Gemma knew he felt it, too. This strong, enduring bond between them that was turning her life upside down, forcing her to reevaluate who she was and what she wanted from her life.

“Okay, I’ll come.”

His eyes lit up. He raised her hand to his lips, turned it over and placed a soft, seductive kiss inside her wrist. “You won’t regret it.”

Gemma gave him a look of disbelief. Of course she was going to regret it. But she couldn’t let the chance to spend a few more days with him pass.

Poseidon’s Cavern, the resort on Kalos, was magnificent. At the centre of the main resort complex Angelo had installed a giant tank filled with sea creatures and fish. Walking through the lobby, she was drawn to the tank to stare at the rays flapping past the viewing windows.

“This is fantastic.” She turned to Angelo. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I brought you here before. Doesn’t it stir any memories?”

Gemma’s excitement dimmed and she shook her head, hating the lie that she’d trapped herself in.

“Don’t worry. Later I’ll show the rest of the complex. There’s a bar and a restaurant with a fabulous view of the tank. They were designed to feel like part of an underwater grotto. Aside from the theatre and cinemas, there’s a water theme park to keep you busy. On the south side of the island we’ve used the underwater caves in the theme park and we’ll take a ride through them tomorrow. It will be a little cool this time of the year, but it’s spectacular down there and it’s something that we hadn’t completed last time you were here.”

“That’s sounds lovely.” But the best part was that it was an experience where she wasn’t following in Mandy’s footsteps. She wouldn’t have to worry about how her twin had reacted.

Not that she was worried about Angelo working the truth out any more. If he hadn’t twigged by now that she wasn’t Mandy, but her twin sister, it was unlikely that he was going to discover the truth. But she couldn’t allow this to go on.