by Maya Blake
‘What are you doing?’ she semi-squeaked, the sight of him drying her throat.
Christos paused, that infernal eyebrow cocked, the slightly dishevelled hair falling over his forehead lending him a dangerously rakish look that made her fingers convulse on the covers she clutched.
‘It seems fairly obvious, yineka mou,’ he said.
‘But we...you...normally sleep on the sofa when we’re here,’ she said, her voice curiously breathless.
Except this time, he didn’t retreat to it. No, he was tossing half of his pillow mountain to the floor, then plumping one of the remaining ones, the muscles in his six-pack contracting in a way that made her fingers itch to experience that warm flesh the way she’d explored him by the pool this afternoon.
‘I thought we’d established our new course of action?’
‘Yes, but I didn’t think you’d...invite yourself into my bed, just like that!’ God, why did her tongue feel so thick in her mouth? Why was her feminine core tingling so wildly? So needily?
‘Technically, this is my bed too. But you can relax, Alexis. I’m not about to pounce on you.’
I wish you would.
She nearly gasped out loud at the torrid thought. ‘I should think not,’ she said, inserting a sharpness into her tone that was at direct variance with the slow melting in her pelvis caused by the sight of him lying there, both arms tucked behind his head and his heavy-lidded gaze on the ceiling. Dear God, as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. Whereas she was being turned inside out with intensifying cravings she feared she would never conquer.
Think practical, unsexy thoughts.
Her brain’s response was to produce even more lurid images, all of them of that bronzed perfection on display. And what...wasn’t.
She swallowed, wishing she could turn her back on him. But even that was impossible. Doing so would show weakness. Give him the impression that his overwhelmingly masculine presence threatened to shatter her control.
‘Sleeping on the sofa is no longer an option. Not without giving up all the ground we made this afternoon. Besides, if knowledge serves me right, you tend to stick to your side of the bed, even when you sleep alone. My presence shouldn’t have to change that.’
‘Should I be worried that you know my sleeping habits?’
His teeth flashed in the semi-darkness. ‘I’m extremely observant. Especially about the things that matter.’
She didn’t want that melting feeling in her belly to intensify. Didn’t want to take his words anywhere except at face value. Yet, she found herself turning towards him, her grip on the sheets easing when they should’ve been doing the opposite.
Christos Drakakis had probably never lacked for female attention since his teenage years. Beyond that, his deeply ingrained integrity assured her he wouldn’t force himself where he wasn’t wanted.
And that was the problem.
Alexis couldn’t deny the escalating need that only seemed to swell whenever he was here. Having him here in her bed—in their bed—wasn’t a temptation she wanted to test. But short of insisting he relocate, or relocating herself, she was left with only this option.
‘You’re overthinking this, matia mou,’ he drawled, right before he tugged the sheet firmly up his torso. ‘At this rate, it’s not the coffee that’ll keep you up but whatever thoughts are spinning through that brain of yours.’
The bed was wide enough. Hell, it could accommodate a small family at a pinch. And it was the last word in luxury and comfort. Still, she took the largest pillow she could find and wedged it between them. As if that would protect her.
As if his scent wasn’t already infiltrating the space between them, curling around her senses and drawing her in.
Alexis wasn’t sure how long she lay there, fighting tension in her body and wild thoughts in her head. Eventually, the sound of his deep, rhythmic breathing leached the strain from her body. She exhaled, long and slow, careful not to make a sound as she turned her head to watch him.
Sweet heaven, he was breathtaking.
A Greek god made flesh, sculpted with devotion and precision, with heaps of arrogance and elegance and mastery thrown in. Even in sleep, he remained a formidable presence, his cheekbones casting sharp shadows mitigated only by the lush sweep of his sooty lashes and soft curl of his sensual lips.
Lips she’d tasted.
Lips she wanted to taste again.
With a low moan of frustration, she turned on her side. Away from temptation.
* * *
Alexis opened her eyes what felt like minutes later to pure sunlight.
It took a moment for her to register that it was the remote-controlled parting of the curtains that had awoken her. That and the soft knock at the door.
She turned and lifted her head, a little dazed, to see Christos crossing the room. At the sight of his bare back, memories of last night flooded in, heating her body anew as he opened the door, his voice a low rumble as he let in the maid carrying a fully laden breakfast tray.
Acutely aware of her body’s response, and the fact that she’d just experienced her first full night in bed with a man, albeit a non-sexual one—Adrian had always found an excuse to leave her flat before morning, presumably to return to his fiancée—she stayed frozen. Christos, still sporting decadently low-riding pyjama bottoms, and showing off his sculpted torso and designer stubble in the dazzling sunlight, thanked the maid and took possession of the tray.
Alexis looked away from the sleek synergy of muscles as he approached. Reaching her side of the bed, he paused, one eyebrow arched at her.
‘You’re going to have to let go of that pillow and untangle yourself from those covers if you want breakfast,’ he drawled. ‘Or would you prefer me to feed you?’
She glared at him, his mockery triggering another infernal blush, and slowly unclenched her fingers. ‘That won’t be necessary,’ she snapped.
With a far too devastating smirk, he stepped forward, waited for her to sit up and tug the covers up her chest so he could settle the tray on her lap.
She managed to pour two cups of coffee without spilling it everywhere, then averted her eyes again once he’d accepted his and perched his large frame at the side of the bed. The slant of sunlight indicated the sun had risen a while ago. ‘What time is it? And why aren’t we having breakfast with your grandfather?’
‘It’s just after nine, and this—’ he indicated the tray with his free hand ‘—is because I’d like us to be...easy with each other.’
She barely managed to stop herself from snorting. It was like asking a bird to be intimate friends with an active volcano, or a boa constrictor with a mouse. In both scenarios she would be the loser.
So she concentrated on the part of conversation that was least dangerous. ‘Once we’re done here, I’ll set myself up in the study, see if there’s anything urgent requiring your—’
His finger on her lips halted the rest of the words, and some of that volcanic heat she dreaded threatened to engulf her body.
‘There’s no need. I’ve already been in touch with the office. The only urgent thing is the investigator’s report on Demitri’s case. It’ll be ready this afternoon. But the case may well conclude before the weekend is over.’
She drew back from his touch with lips tingling and a reluctance that unnerved her. ‘How?’
His face tightened a fraction and his hand dropped to the bed, dangerously close to her bare thigh. ‘His wife looks set to accept the financial incentive she was offered.’
Anguish caught her on the raw. ‘She’s accepting money to give up her own child?’
‘You’d be surprised how much money and power influences parenthood.’ The bitterness in his voice drew her gaze to his face. Just like last night, his gaze was shadowed, the stubble giving him an even more forbidding look.
‘Is that...did your par
ents...?’
The cold, warning look he slanted at her made her words trail off. ‘I don’t wish to start our day with indigestion. What I meant to tell you was that I’ve cleared the calendar for the next few days, so, barring any unforeseen circumstances, you’re free to use your time as you wish.’
‘Oh... I...thanks.’
‘You seem underwhelmed by the offer.’
She shook her head, confusion still making her hazy. ‘It’s not that. It’s just, I haven’t really had a holiday for a while. I’m not sure what to do with myself.’ Her words echoed in her head and she grimaced. ‘That came out much more pathetic than I wanted it to. It’s just that—’
‘Work has dominated your time in my employ?’
She nodded. ‘Something like that.’
‘You’re not hinting that your boss has been a tyrant, are you?’ he drawled, amusement in his tone as he bit into a plump peach.
Alexis felt butterflies dance in her belly as she watched him chew and swallow, then leant forward to pile her plate with food. ‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Good. Eat up. You’ve hardly seen the island despite this being your third visit. Let’s remedy that.’
At some point before she’d fallen asleep last night, she’d planned on doing exactly that. But she’d imagined doing it alone, not in the company of the most dynamic man she’d ever known. ‘I can explore on my own. You don’t have to accompany me.’
Slowly narrowing stormy grey eyes rested on her. ‘Don’t I?’
‘If you’re concerned about giving Costas a certain impression, you could always cite work?’ she suggested, a tad desperately.
‘My presence affects you that much?’ A loaded question, which added another shovelful of coal to the flames burning in her belly.
‘Of course not,’ she denied.
‘Then it’s settled.’
With that final proclamation, he drew one leg onto the bed, fully facing her, then pushed her plate at her. The rest of their breakfast passed with Christos suggesting what to pack, and how long they’d be, before reaching for the bedside phone to instruct the staff on where to deliver their lunchtime picnic.
He relieved her of the tray when she was done, then sauntered back to the bed, the blaze in his eyes jangling her nerves. ‘I take it there will be no further problems going forward now we’ve spent the night in the same bed?’
Heat rising to her face, she met his gaze. ‘I...suppose not.’
‘Hmm, such a rousing endorsement.’ He stopped beside her, then, without warning, his fingers trailed down her cheek. ‘The way you blush, matia mou. I’m almost tempted to test the boundaries of your innocence.’
‘I’m not innocent. And I’d thank you not to toy with me.’
A mirthless smile lifted one corner of his mouth. ‘Toying is the last thing on my mind.’
‘Christos...’
His eyes turned turbulent, a raging storm of emotions that held her breath trapped in her lungs. Slowly, his fingers trailed to her mouth, his thumb passing over her lower lip, just like yesterday. ‘Ne,’ he murmured, as if pleased with something. Before she could command herself to move away, he stepped back. ‘Meet me downstairs in half an hour.’
He walked away with a long-legged stride she couldn’t help but gape at.
Showering in record time, she chose a burnt-orange bikini over which she wore a white sundress and low-heeled flip-flops. After securing her hair in a ponytail, she threw on some costume jewellery. In her beach bag, she packed sunscreen, lip gloss and, on a desperate whim, her work tablet.
Christos was waiting when she emerged from the long hallway attached to the south wing.
The black golf buggy was sleek and powerful-looking. But it was the man behind the wheel who captured her attention. His slightly damp hair looked finger-combed; he’d probably showered while she was locked in her dressing room anxious about what to wear for a day of leisure with her...husband.
She looked up to find his gaze conducting an equally frank appraisal of his own. Suddenly, Alexis was super conscious of the thinness of her sundress, of the short hem brushing her thighs. Of her bare legs and the soft breeze that whispered through the cypress trees and washed over her sensitive skin.
‘Get in, Alexis,’ he ordered with a low, deep voice that echoed in her belly.
They headed north, towards the denser part of the island. There he pointed out the olive groves that had once supplied olive oil to the villa but now formed part of the stables for the Andalusian horses Costas kept.
Next, they headed for the craggier part where the cliffs met the sea.
‘At sunset, the configuration of the cliffs and the beach gives the impression of a dragon breathing fire. Hence the name.’
‘You spent time here as a boy, didn’t you?’
A wry smile curved his lips. ‘It’s not hard to get lost in the draw of a place like this.’
She tried to imagine the picture he evoked. While it wasn’t easy to picture the imposing, dynamic man beside her as a child, perhaps even a lonely one, it was easy to conjure up a boy who’d retreated to his imagination for his own entertainment. She’d done the same on countless nights in her single bed in the children’s home. Dreamed of the safety and security of an imaginary family and not the loneliness that plagued her day and night.
‘Did your grandfather share it with you?’
He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes on the sea for several moments before he shook his head. ‘Not always. He was preoccupied with my grandmother. But he insisted that I knew how to swim before he set me loose on the island, so he taught me how to swim in the pool.’
Last night’s conversation and the look in his eyes this morning almost stopped her from uttering the words. But although she risked spoiling the magic of their trip, the words tumbled out anyway. ‘Where were your parents?’
His face tightened, bleakness shadowing his eyes. ‘They were busy starring in the melodrama of their acrimonious divorce.’
That tight, pain-wrapped response brought stunning clarity. ‘They’re the reason you became a divorce lawyer, aren’t they?’
He turned towards her, and even though her breath stalled at the icy contempt in his eyes, she knew it wasn’t aimed at her but at his parents. ‘Yes. Agios and Nadia Drakakis separated when I was five years old. I lived with my mother for a while. Then mostly with Agios. They dragged out their divorce for ten years. And when they weren’t busy going for each other’s throats, they used me as a pawn in their little games.’
‘How?’
He gave a stiff shrug. ‘My father would inform me I was changing schools halfway through a school year simply because he knew it would upset my mother. And me. My mother would suddenly take me out of my new school to go on a month-long holiday to get back at him. Then he would retaliate in another way. I once made the mistake of telling my father I was keeping my hair long because my mother liked it. He took his hair clippers out within the hour.’ He paused, his lips thinning in recollection. ‘They did this repeatedly, without a care as to what I wanted. Coming here to Drakonisos was my only reprieve, the one thing I looked forward to as a child.’
Sympathy filled her chest. Reaching out, she brushed her fingers over the back of his hand. ‘I’m sorry.’
For a moment he looked startled, then he nodded and turned away to stare at the horizon once more. Silence reigned for a few minutes before she summoned the courage to ask what she hoped would be a less fraught question. ‘Where was your grandmother?’
A flash of pain crossed his face. ‘Here on Drakonisos, but she never got the chance to truly appreciate the island. Costas bought it for her after she was diagnosed with a terminal illness.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to evoke painful memories for you.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s good that you know something about my past. It’ll cau
se less gossip.’
Right. Their fake marriage. The reason she was here in the first place. Alexis wasn’t sure why the reminder hurt.
Silence stretched between them again, longer, tauter this time. A muscle throbbed at his temple as he slowly exhaled. Alexis faced the horizon, trying to block the curious pain blooming in her chest. At least now she knew why he wanted to claim this island so badly.
Abruptly, he reached out for her hand, his gaze telling her this part of their conversation was over. ‘Come. I have something else to show you.’
Before she could think about it, she placed her hand in his.
The flare of pleasure in his eyes was gone as quickly as it arrived, but she’d seen it. And deep inside felt a peculiar thrill that she’d pleased him. But even as they boarded the buggy, a niggle remained. One she suspected would grow into a chafe.
Because despite being a part of his professional life for so long, despite being his pretend wife right now, he was shutting her out. Lumping her in with everyone else he held at arm’s length.
Why should you be singled out? You think you’re special?
She was the one who’d always been left behind. The one discarded by her mother and lied to by her first and only lover. And as much as the reminder bruised her heart, she needed it to keep herself in check. To tell herself that this was simply a moment in time. One soon to be in her rear-view mirror.
They travelled north, and this time when they stopped, she stepped out and accompanied Christos to the edge of a steep cliff with a stunning beach below.
‘Wow. That’s breathtaking. Is there a way to get down there?’
He nodded, a rare softness stealing over his features. ‘I dug steps into the cliff when I was fourteen.’ He indicated the rock formation and the frantic waves dashing against them. ‘Before that I used to climb down over the rocks.’
She blanched, staring at the jagged peaks. ‘That looks incredibly dangerous.’
