Harlequin Presents--July 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Natalie Anderson

  She’d attended enough functions with Christos to have had the opportunity of sampling ouzo before. But she recognised superiority and authenticity when she tasted it. ‘It’s the best I’ve ever tried,’ she said honestly.

  Costas beamed, then his grandson followed suit with a slow smile that ignited flames at her feet that slowly scorched upward throughout her body.

  She tried to limit herself to small sips but by the time the first course of stuffed vine leaves and roasted peppers was served, Costas was pouring her a second glass.

  By unspoken agreement, she didn’t mention his illness, and neither did Christos. Instead they spoke extensively about his shipping company, with Alexis noting that each time Georgios’s name came up, Christos stiffened.

  ‘Are you looking forward to your party?’ she asked during their main course of moussaka with tomato and feta salad.

  ‘It should be interesting,’ Costas drawled after a contemplative moment, his deep rumbling tone indicative of what his grandson’s would be like in a few decades. ‘There are those who are still curious as to why my grandson chose to marry his bride in secrecy and hasn’t made any attempt to introduce her to other members of his family.’

  Her gaze darted to Christos, her heart thudding at the thought that she’d fallen into a trap. His lips pursed, his eyes flicking away from hers to narrow warningly on Costas. ‘The most important family member has already met my bride. To everyone else, what I do is none of their business.’

  Costas shrugged, a wicked gleam in his eyes. But behind it, she saw a shadow of pain. ‘I’m merely relaying the family’s sentiments. Especially your mother’s.’

  Christos visibly tensed, the hand holding his fork momentarily tightening before he eased his grip. ‘My whereabouts aren’t a state secret. She’s known where I’ve been since the last time we saw each other.’

  ‘Perhaps she didn’t think she’d be welcome,’ Costas parried.

  Christos tossed his napkin on the table and picked up his wine glass. Unlike his grandfather, he’d stuck to a full-bodied Merlot, which he now swirled lazily despite the uneven tic in his jaw. ‘If she wants advance reassurance of what her reception would be, I’m afraid she’s going to be disappointed.’

  Other than a mild grimace, Costas showed no outward sign of censure or disappointment at Christos’s answer. ‘Does the same apply to your father?’

  Christos’s expression grew icier. ‘Ne, very much so.’

  Costas’s gaze turned contemplative as he set his glass down. ‘You inherited many traits from me, including my stubbornness. As much as I want to, I can’t fault you for that. All I can advise is that you limit the fallout.’

  ‘Is this your way of telling me they’re both attending your party?’ Christos bit out.

  ‘Your father is my son, Christos. I cannot forbid him from attending.’

  Christos raised a mocking eyebrow. ‘You expect me to believe that you have no control over your own guest list?’

  Costas bared his teeth, his enjoyment of the tense tussle evident. ‘Maybe I do. But I despise gossip. And news that I’ve banned my own son from attending a birthday celebration is bound to set far too many tongues wagging.’

  ‘You live on a private island and dictate who sets foot on it. I dare say outside gossip doesn’t bother you too much.’

  ‘But its effect on my company’s share value does,’ he retorted. ‘And as a major shareholder, it should matter to you too.’

  Alexis had to hand it to the old man for the neat counterargument. As a top-notch lawyer, Christos had a reputation steeped in solid evidence, but he also understood the power of perception. Any rumours of trouble within the Drakakis family were bound to have public repercussions.

  Silence descended over the table, Christos’s eyes remaining shadowed as he sipped his wine.

  To her relief, the silence was broken a minute later by the arrival of after-dinner coffee. Alexis took the opportunity to make her escape. ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. I’ve already passed my two-cups-a-day tally. Another on top of the ouzo will leave me wired and wide awake for hours.’

  A layer of shadow left Christos’s eyes as they rose to meet hers. ‘I’ll be up shortly. Between us I think we can come up with a way to dissipate any nervous energy that needs expending,’ he drawled, the blatant sexual intent behind his words sending a wave of heat into her face.

  Costas laughed at whatever expression she’d shown as she strove for composure. ‘How refreshing to see you can still make your bride blush, Christos.’

  The glare she sent Christos behind her pasted-on smile earned her another heated look. ‘Yes, it is indeed refreshing,’ he concurred.

  ‘I’ll leave you two on this high note you seem to be having. Goodnight.’

  Costas nodded at her, his smile still warm, while Christos merely watched her leave, the hyperawareness sinking into her skin telling her his gaze remained on her until she stepped through the French doors. Alexis chose to dwell on the transformation in the old man, to see it as a win, rather than on the just-for-show sexual gauntlet Christos had tossed at her.

  She fully intended to be in bed, fast asleep, by the time he came up. Going on previous visits, he’d most likely retreat to his study after dinner to check on his priority cases before turning in. She hurried through her bedtime routine, slipping on her peach satin night slip before diving under the covers. She groaned as the sumptuous sheets welcomed her. But an hour later, wide-eyed and heart pounding, she hated herself for listening out for the door.

  She squeezed her eyes shut when Christos turned the handle, her heartbeat roaring in her ears. For the next ten minutes she listened to him moving around his dressing room, images of him undressing infusing further heat through her bloodstream.

  Perhaps it was because she was so preoccupied with calming her runaway libido that she didn’t at first realise what was happening. But when the mattress suddenly shifted, she pivoted towards the man who was easing himself into bed beside her. The half-naked man, dressed in a pair of black silk pyjama bottoms and nothing else.

  ‘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, wi
shing 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 parents...?’

  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.