She stilled. ‘Your island?’
She really hadn’t done any research on him, had she? That both tickled him, and put him out.
‘You have your island, I have mine.’ He sent her a sideways grin. ‘I’ll admit mine isn’t as big, but good things come in small packages.’
The look in her eyes was decidedly not limpid now. ‘Are you trying to convince me that size doesn’t matter?’ she teased in that gorgeously raspy voice. ‘Of course, I have no basis for comparison, for all I know I might be missing out—’
‘You’re concerned you’re missing out?’ He rose to her bait, happy to slip back into this tease and turn away from the too serious.
‘You tell me.’ She batted her eyelashes at him.
This was the woman from that night at the ball—that playful, slightly shy, deliciously fun woman.
‘Hell, yeah, you’re missing out.’
Her mouth fell open.
‘Come with me and I’ll show you.’
Her lips twisted as colour flowed into her cheeks.
‘It’s in the Caribbean,’ he purred.
She closed her mouth. ‘That is also very tech billionaire of you.’
‘Yeah. It is. So let’s go there. Today.’ He stood, energy firing. For the first time since seeing that damn screen this morning he felt good.
‘But Giorgos—’
‘But Giorgos what? We can let him know where we’ve gone.’ He paused, waiting to see if she’d defy her brother’s orders.
A gleam lit in her eye. Damon suppressed his smug smirk—seemed his Princess had unleashed her latent rebellious streak. He liked it.
‘How long does it take to get there?’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ELENI SAT ACROSS from Damon in one of the large leather recliners in his private jet and tried not to stare at him. Her face heated as she recalled what he’d done to her, what he’d encouraged her to do to him. Last night had been the first time she’d ever shared a bed. The first time she’d slept in a man’s arms. She couldn’t even remember falling asleep, only a feeling of supreme relaxation as she’d lain entwined with him.
‘It’s a long flight. You should rest while you can.’ That wicked glint ignited his smile as if he knew exactly what she was thinking about.
‘I need rest?’
‘For the days ahead, yes.’
‘Empty promises...threats...’ she muttered softly.
He leaned forward and placed his finger over her lips. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll make good on every one. When we’re alone.’
‘I see no cabin crew.’ She blinked at him.
‘You want them to hear you?’ His eyebrows arched. ‘Because you’re not going to be quiet.’
‘I can be quiet.’
‘Can you?’ He studied her intently, not bothering to add anything more.
Heat deepened and spread, heating her from the inside out. Every, single cell. Realisation burned. She was never going to be quiet with him.
‘You’re...’ She couldn’t think of her own name, let alone a suitable adjective this second.
‘Good.’ Looking smug, he leaned back in his seat and pulled his tablet out. ‘I’m very good.’
‘Full of yourself,’ she corrected.
She couldn’t sit for hours with nothing to occupy her except sinful thoughts. She burrowed in her bag and fetched out the paper and small pencil tin that she always had stashed. Sketching soothed, like meditation. And she’d spent so many hours with a pencil in hand, it was calming.
He didn’t seem to notice her occupation. She became so engrossed in her work she lost track of time. When she glanced up she discovered he’d closed his eyes. She wasn’t surprised; he’d had as little sleep as she. And he’d been worryingly pale when he’d returned to her apartment this morning after that meeting with his father.
With that downwards tilt to his sensual lips now, she understood that he was vulnerable too and much more complex than she’d realised. He’d been hurt. His parents’ infidelities, their lack of support and interest. Their falseness.
Yet he’d grown strong. Now she understood his fierce independence and the fury he’d felt when he’d thought she’d somehow betrayed him. He didn’t trust and she didn’t blame him. He only wanted his child to avoid the hurt he’d experienced.
She looked down at the sketch she’d done of him and cringed. She’d never want him to see this—too amateur. Too embarrassing. She folded the paper over and put it in the small bin just as the pilot announced they weren’t far from landing. Damon opened his eyes and flashed her a smile.
‘It’s just a short hop by helicopter from here,’ he said as the plane landed.
‘That’s what you say to everyone you bring here?’
He met her gaze. ‘You already know I never brought any of my women here. This is my home.’
‘Heaven forbid you’d let any of them get that close.’
‘Wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea.’
‘I’m glad I “trapped” you into marriage, then, now I get to kick about on your little island.’
Damon grinned at her. Yeah, he couldn’t wait for her to kick about. But he held back as Eleni gathered her small bag and stepped ahead of him to exit the plane. He’d seen her discard the drawing she’d been working on and he was too curious to let it go. On his way out he swiftly scooped up the paper and pocketed it. Given she’d been secretive and clearly hadn’t wanted him to see it, he was going to have to pick the moment to ask her about it.
The helicopter ride was smooth but wasn’t quick enough. He ached to get there—to his home. His own private palace. His peace.
He breathed out as they finally landed and he strode to the open-topped Jeep that he’d ordered to be left waiting for their arrival.
‘Let me take you on a tour.’ He winked at her. ‘You can see exactly what kind of prize husband you’ve claimed for yourself.’
‘You’re not the prize. I am,’ Eleni answered sassily as she shook her hair loose in the warm sunshine. ‘It really is your island?’
‘It’s the company compound,’ he drawled. ‘We futuristic tech companies must have amazing work places for our staff. It’s part of the image.’
‘I didn’t think you were a slave to any society’s required “image”. You’re the man who doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him, right?’
Right. Almost.
Reluctant amusement rippled through him. He liked it when she sparked up.
She stared as the pristine coastline came into clear view. He heard her sharp intake of breath. Now as he drove they could see a few roofs of other dwellings amongst the verdant foliage. He knew it was beautiful, but he was glad she could see it too.
‘They live here all year round?’
‘No.’ He laughed that she’d taken him so seriously. ‘It really is just my island. It was a resort, now it’s not. My people stay for stints if they need to complete a big project, or to recharge their batteries. Every employee has at least six weeks a year here. Families can come too, of course.’ He parked up by the main beach. ‘Energy-wise it’s self-sufficient, thanks to all the solar-power generation, and we grow as many supplies as we can.’
‘So it’s paradise.’
‘Yeah.’ Pure, simple luxury. ‘There’s no paparazzi. No media. No nosey parkers watching your every move. It is completely private.’
She glanced up into the blindingly blue—clear—sky. ‘No drones? No spy cams everywhere?’
‘No helicopters. No long-range lenses. No nothing. Just peace and security,’ he confirmed, but grimaced wryly. ‘And half my staff...but they’ll be busy and you can do whatever you want, whenever you want.’
‘With whomever I want?’ she asked. There was an extra huskiness to her tone that made him so hard.
‘No.’ He reached across and turned her chin so she faced him. ‘Only with me.’
She mock-pouted, teasing in that playful way he adored—demanding retribution of the most erotic kind. But af
ter only a kiss he reluctantly pulled away. He couldn’t bring her here and hurry her into bed. He could be more civilised than that.
‘Come on,’ he said briskly, getting out of the Jeep and pointing to the meandering path through the lush trees. ‘I’ll show you around the complex.’
Then he’d take her to his house and have her all to himself at last.
* * *
Eleni didn’t want to blink and miss a moment. His island was like a warm jewel, gleaming with the promise of heat and holiday and indefinable riches. And with that total privacy, it was the ultimate treasure. A feeling of relaxation slowly unfurled through her body, spreading warmth and joy and such anticipation she could hardly contain it.
‘This is the “den”—our main office here.’
She followed him into the large building. It was a large open space filled with desks, computers and space for tinkering and was currently occupied by five guys all standing round a giant screen.
‘Going from left to right, we have Olly, Harry, Blair, Jerome and Faisal,’ Damon said to her in a low voice. ‘You have that memorised already, right?’
She smiled because, yes, she had.
‘Guys,’ Damon called to them. ‘I’d like you to meet Eleni.’
Not Princess. Not my wife. Just Eleni. That different kind of warmth flowed through her veins again.
The men turned and shouts erupted. But not for her. It was pleasure that their boss had returned. One of the guys stepped to the side of the swarm around Damon to greet her.
‘Nice to meet you, Eleni.’ Olly’s accent placed him as Australian.
The other men nodded, smiled and positively pounced on Damon again.
‘Look, D—I know you’re not here for work, but can I just run a couple things past you?’ Faisal asked.
Damon was already halfway across the room, his gaze narrowing at the gobbledegook on the screen. ‘Of course.’
All the men perked up but Eleni saw Olly and Jerome exchange a look and a jerk of the head towards her. The next second Jerome walked over.
‘Eleni...’ Jerome cleared his throat. ‘Welcome. You must...ah...’
‘I’m really happy to be here.’ She smiled to put him at ease. Eleni could make conversation with anyone. ‘What is it you guys are working on?’
He led her to the nearest table that was covered in an assortment of electronics components and plastic figurines. ‘We’re designing a new visuals prototype and we need his thoughts on the latest version.’
‘Visuals prototype?’
To his credit, Jerome spent a good five minutes explaining the tech to her and answering her questions. But it was obvious he was eager to talk to Damon too and in the end she put him out of his misery. ‘Go ask him whatever it is you need to. I’m fine,’ she laughed.
‘Are you sure?’ Jerome looked anxiously between her and Damon.
‘Of course.’
He hurried away to join the conference around the screen. Damon stood in the centre, listening intently then quietly offering his opinion. The Australian was making notes on a piece of paper while Harry asked another question prompting another concise answer. It was evident they valued his every word and had missed his input. Everyone in the vicinity was paying total attention—to him. Eleni gradually became aware she was staring at him too. And for once no one was staring at her.
Blushing, she turned away and stepped outside to take in some fresh air. Her muscles ached slightly and a gentle feeling of fatigue made her sleepy. She leaned against the tall tree just outside the building and looked across at the beautifully clear water.
Ten minutes later Damon walked back to where she waited in the shade.
‘Sorry,’ he muttered as he reached to take her hand. ‘That took longer than I realised.’
‘It’s fine. I enjoyed looking around.’
Damon sent her a speculative look that turned increasingly wicked the longer he studied her. ‘What have you been thinking about?’ he asked. ‘You’ve gone very pink.’
The heat in her cheeks burned. ‘Don’t tease.’
‘Oh, I’ll tease.’ He tugged on her hand and pulled her closer to him. ‘But first let me show you the rest.’
‘I think rest is a good idea.’ She wanted to be alone with his undivided attention on her again. And right now she didn’t care if that made her spoiled.
‘There’s a restaurant room,’ he said.
Of course there was. Right on the beach, with a bar and a woman who waved and smiled at Damon the second she saw him. Eleni’s spine prickled.
‘Rosa will cook anything you want, as long as you want fresh and delicious.’ Damon waved at the relaxed, gorgeously tanned woman and kept walking past.
‘This place is just beautiful.’ Eleni glanced back at the restaurant.
‘Rosa is married to Olly, the guy with—’
‘The beard.’ Eleni sighed, stupidly relieved. ‘The Australian.’
Damon grinned as if he’d sensed her irrational jealous flare. ‘They live here most of the year round.’
‘Lucky them.’ She walked across the sand with him. ‘Do you live here most of the year too?’
‘Meetings take me away, but I’m here when I can be.’
Eleni could understand why; if it were her choice she’d never leave. But his marriage to her was going to make that problematic for a while. She had duties in Palisades that she had to perform.
‘Where next?’ she asked. ‘Your house?’
‘Not yet. You haven’t seen the playroom.’
‘Playroom?’ she asked, startled.
He laughed and gave her a playful swipe. ‘Not that kind of playroom.’ He cocked his head. ‘But now I know you’re curious...’
‘Shut it and show me the room.’ She marched across the sand, cheeks burning.
It was a boat shed and it was filled with every water-sport toy imaginable—from surfboards, to kayaks to inflatables and jet skis. ‘Okay, this is seriously cool.’ She stepped forward to get a closer look.
‘I knew you liked the water,’ Damon said smugly. ‘You swim, right?’
‘Indoors at the palace,’ she answered, checking out the kayaks stacked in racks up the wall. ‘Giorgos had a resistance current feature installed so I can train each morning in privacy.’
‘You don’t swim in the sea?’
‘With everyone watching?’ She stared at him as if he were crazy. ‘Rating my swimsuits every morning?’ She shook her head. ‘And he’d never let me on a jet ski.’
‘No?’ Damon’s eyes widened.
‘Safety issues.’ She shrugged and straightened. ‘And again, too many photographers.’
‘You like to avoid those.’
‘Do you blame me?’
‘No.’ He leaned against the door frame and sent her a smouldering look. ‘I’m really good on a jet ski,’ he said arrogantly. ‘You can come with me.’
She crossed her arms and sent what she hoped was a smouldering look right back at him. ‘Can I drive?’
‘Sure. I have no problem with that.’
‘But what if I want to go fast?’ She blinked at him innocently.
‘I think I can keep up.’ He lifted away from the door frame and strolled towards her.
‘You think?’ Her voice rose as he stepped close enough to pull her against him.
‘I think it’s time you saw my house,’ he growled.
‘It’s beyond time,’ she whispered.
He guided her across the sand and up a beautifully maintained path through the well-established trees to the gorgeous building at the end.
An infinity pool—the perfect length for laps—was the feature at the front. Comfortable, beautiful furniture was strategically placed to create space for relaxation, conversation and privacy. The house itself was wooden, with two storeys, and not monstrously huge but nor was it small. Damon didn’t speak as he led her inside—he simply let her look around. It was luxurious, yes, but also cosy with a sense of true intimacy. She didn’t know wh
y that surprised her, but it did.
He still said nothing, but smiled as if he sensed her appreciation. She took his outstretched hand and he led her up the curling wooden staircase. She assumed it led to his bedroom. Her heart hammered. A delicious languorous anticipation seeped into her bones.
But while there were doors to other rooms on one side, the room he drew her to wasn’t for sleeping. It stretched the length of the building. Unsurprisingly it was dominated by symmetrical windows overlooking the sand, sea and sky. A long table took up half the space. It was clearly his desk, given the neatly stacked piles of papers and the writing utensils gathered in a chipped mug. A long seat took up much of the remaining window space. A single armchair stood in front of the large fireplace that broke up the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that covered the wall opposite the windows. Books were stacked on every shelf. Books that had clearly been read and weren’t just there for the look of it. This was more than his workspace. It was his think space—his escape.
‘I can see why you love it.’ She stood in the middle of the room and gazed from the intriguing space inside to the natural beauty outside.
‘Best view on the island.’
‘The beauty is more than the view.’ She noted the shades for the windows, the pale warmth of the walls, the art that he’d chosen to complement the space. ‘The light is lovely,’ she said softly. ‘The colour. It must help you focus.’
‘It’s not a palace,’ he said with a keen look.
‘It’s better than any palace.’
A small smile flitted about his mouth. ‘So you like it?’
Intrigued that her opinion genuinely seemed to matter, she turned her back on the view to face him directly. ‘Did you honestly think I wouldn’t?’ She wasn’t that spoilt, was she?
‘There’s not a lot of gold leaf and crystal chandeliers.’
‘Did you think I wasn’t going to like it because there’s no ballroom?’ She felt slightly hurt. ‘You don’t need a ballroom—you have a beach.’ She looked out across the water again. ‘You’re lucky to have a home, not a museum in which you live.’
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