Man Without a Heart Read Online Free

arm. He need not have been so cautious; Jill had no intention of making a run for it. She knew that she would not get very far before someone caught her, for now that she was out of the car, she saw no fewer than three gardeners at work in various parts of the grounds.
    The door was opened by a Greek smartly dressed in a pair of black trousers, a white shirt and a grey linen jacket.
    'The woman!' said Petros, giving Jill a push which sent her past the manservant and into the hall. 'Mind she doesn't escape.'
    The last sentence was spoken in Greek, and the man nodded his head. He closed the door and turned to Jill.
    'This way, miss,' he said briefly, and Jill found herself following him toward a door at the far end of the hall. The servant opened the door after knocking and waiting for the invitation to enter.
    'The lady, Mr. Adam,' he said, and Jill gave a sudden start on hearing that name. The servant seemed to disappear into air, so quickly did he make his departure. Jill, standing just inside the room, with the door closed behind her, could scarcely think clearly with the name 'Adam' repeating itself in her brain, and in addition, the attitude of the man who, sitting at a massive oak desk, had not yet even looked up from the paper he was perusing, seemed somehow quietly disturbing. Jill coughed, and he said quietly, but with a harsh edge to his faintly accented voice,
    'So, my little runaway, you'd go back on your word, eh — ' He had glanced up as he spoke, breaking off abruptly when his very dark brown eyes encountered Jill's slender form on the other side of the desk.
    'Good heavens! Who the devil are you?' His expression was one of scowling disbelief. 'What the devil—?' He stopped again and stared, rising from his chair. 'How did you get here?' he demanded so belligerently that Jill's hackles were instantly up. Her brown eyes glinted and her mouth went tight. That he was completely staggered by the sight of her was plain, which was not surprising, the truth having been made plain by his first words. It was her sister who was to have been abducted. For a fleeting space Jill stared at him with as belligerent an expression as any he himself could produce. She was noticing the flexed jawline and firm, dominant chin, the sensuous mouth that carried the ruthless lines she had seen in the stone statues in the museums of Athens, statues of his pagan ancestors. His nose was straight, his cheekbones high, his skin a rich deep bronze, unlined and clear. Her eyes moved to his forehead, and to the widow's peak wedging deeply into it. She spoke while continuing her examination of him, her attention on his body now-a tall, lithe body with wide, powerful shoulders and narrow hips.
    'Your second question is superfluous, Mr. Doxaros, since it was on your orders that I was attacked by two ruffians and bundled into a car, then onto a boat and then into another car, which brought me here. The answer to your first question is that I am Susie's sister, Jill Harris.'
    His eyes opened wide. 'They took the wrong girl.... The damned idiots! I'll flay them alive!' He looked so savage that for a moment Jill really believed he would carry out his threat. 'Idiots!' he repeated. 'I told them that the girl had blond hair and blue eyes!'
    'It was dark when they abducted me,' returned Jill tartly. 'You can't blame them for the blunder; it was poor organisation,' she added finally, because she just had to get at him. His eyes glinted, but any retort that came to his lips was stemmed, and it was plain to Jill that he was not going to waste time on irrelevancies. He had suddenly become interested in her, examining her thoughtfully, his eyes first on her hair, short and curling and the colour of beech leaves in autumn, then on her face with its clear alabaster skin through which the blue veins on her temples could clearly be seen, her mouth, her eyes, big and honest and framed by curling dark lashes. In the cabin there had been a shower alcove and Jill had