Saved By A Billionaire Brit

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Saved By A Billionaire Brit Page 3

by Sandra Dee


  I suddenly realized I knew him without even trying. Never had I met anyone so easy to be with. He was a creature of incredible beauty and, surprisingly, a true gentleman. I certainly needed to have lunch and a pleasant afternoon on the water. I scolded myself for wasting so much time when I should be enjoying this beautiful island and a gorgeous man. I managed a fake smile. The mourning would have to wait.

  Robert jumped up. "When I'm around you, I smile so much my cheeks hurt. I'll pick you up around noon. Bring proper attire if you care to swim. I can't tell you how pleased this makes me."

  He ran into the apartment and brought me a day old Wall Street Journal and a paperback novel. It wasn't possible to get a current American newspaper in the islands. I was hoping to discover the current date by looking at the paper. I turned to ask Robert, but he had already dashed up three flights of stone steps toward the street.

  The morning seemed to creep along. I opened the newspaper, but it lay on the breakfast table unread. I wandered back into the apartment to look for clean clothes. I put on a white bikini instead of underwear. Hopefully I could find something really amazing to wear on a sailing adventure, something blue and white nautical to match the Greek flag.

  I dressed slowly and then strolled over to the office hoping to find Anne. Luckily she was right by the doorway gazing at reservations on the computer. She seemed glad for the interruption and greeted me warmly.

  "What is the date today?" I asked.

  "The fourteenth of September. You are just the person I wanted to see. Do you have any idea how long you are going to stay? I am making final reservations for the year, and the hotel closes at the end of October. We have many requests for these last few weeks. In fact, I just received an email from your friend Sharon. She is coming back for her honeymoon in a few weeks. I was a little confused at first because she had to explain who she was. She was making the reservation under the name of Rex Sanders, her fiance I suppose."

  So there it was. Anne had no idea what she was saying to me because I had never gotten the chance to make a reservation for my own honeymoon. Rex dumped me before that could happen. I was scarcely getting my life back, still numb from the shock, and now I finally understood why Sharon had left abruptly with no explanation. Of course, she was afraid to face me. I can't say that I was totally unprepared because I still had questions about Sharon's departure. Hindsight is usually perfect, and I wondered how I could have ignored my suspicions. Some things were obvious now. There was a limit to what the human psyche can endure.

  I returned to sit on the terrace for the rest of the morning. Geraniums bloomed a brilliant red in the corner of the stone wall, unnoticed burgundy bougainvillea raced across the white wall beyond the office, uncelebrated. Glowing mists veiled and unveiled the distant village of Oia, a dance unappreciated. Sailboats aimed for an island village on the other side of the caldera. I would soon be aboard. New questions swirled inside my head, but I realized I wasn't alert enough to determine which questions made sense. Answers were ever more distant.

  When Robert returned to the hotel in a jeep, I tried to explain my newest shock to him. For a moment I thought he was going to swerve off a cliff on the way to Thira. He tried to reach over and hug me while he was driving. I was determined not to cry. My tears were too precious to waste on Rex. All those lies! A few tears slid down my cheeks anyhow.

  "Oh, hon, I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to make things better. I can't believe Sharon deceived you like that." He twisted his head like a puppy looking at a crying infant, sitting there in the town parking lot. He held me tightly even as we climbed the stone walk toward the restaurant. I attempted some kind of mumbling reply. What could be more healing than lunch and a cruise atop an ancient volcano?

  I was astounded by the view from the restaurant in Thira. Though it was the same caldera, each angle gave a new vantage point. There were hotels and shops tumbling down the mountainside like a sculpture of white boxes. Beside the restaurant roof ran a paved walk, populated with tourists and the occasional mule train. It was easy to see how the Greeks invented democracy, a talking government. The shop keepers shouted and chattered endlessly, waving their hands for emphasis. I was surprised by the rhythm of the Greek language. It reminded me of Spanish. I expected something far more unfamiliar. The cream sauce on my pasta was too good to waste, so I forced myself to eat. Again.

  After lunch Robert pulled me hurriedly toward the cable car, an adventure in itself, floating down the massive cliff of many colors. We arrived exactly on time and slipped away from the dock surrounded by tourists. Thira's jumble of white and pastel buildings hovered far above us like icing on a cake. It was hard to believe it was real and not an illusion. Though I had seen Santorini in several movies, nothing prepared me for the view from the water. We sailed along the island to the village of Oia. It had a dock and winding, white steps all the way up the cliff. I suddenly realized how much I wanted to visit Oia.

  We turned back toward the center of the caldera and a small lava island. The water near the dock was a red, muddy color and filled with swimmers. Many of the passengers were talking about the hot-spring effect around the dock. Robert urged me to leave the boat for a short hike across the island, but my mental and physical conditions were primed for water, not hiking.

  "I'm sorry. I'd rather sit here and enjoy the view. Please go ahead with the group, then you can tell me about it." I smiled to encourage him. I didn't mention that the rough lava would ruin my shoes.

  While he was gone, I tried to relax. Not much can compare with Greek Islands, and Santorini was the most dramatic of the Cyclades. I slowed my breathing and entered a meditative state. It was difficult to maintain.

  The hiking group returned quickly, and I greeted Robert. "What did you see?"

  "There wasn't much, just red and black rock and smoking dirt."

  "The rocks were smoking too?" I asked.

  "Yes, smoking."

  "But you can't see the smoke from this side of the island."

  "I guess the hill hides it." He smiled and shrugged.

  "What do you think that means? Is the volcano active? I thought the last eruption was thousands of years ago."

  My self-imposed serenity vanished rapidly. Was I living inside an active volcano? There was a certain amount of fatalism in that. The day had come full circle, so far a most conflicting day. Once again I slipped into a fog of confusion. I do remember sailing to a third island on the far side of the caldera. The ship anchored for a swim. Even though the water was clear and deep, I declined because I was so distracted.

  Robert made a beautiful dive off the high side of the sailboat. I didn't realize he was an accomplished diver. The water was crowded with splashing tourists, all shouting and screaming. I quickly lost sight of him. It seemed illogical to worry, but I moved around the boat trying to find him in the water. There was no Robert, so I climbed down the ladder to look for him. The water was sparkling blue, but...

  The blue should have been ice blue. When I hopped off the ladder, the shock closed around me and froze my breath. I opened my mouth to gasp, but the cold paralyzed my chest muscles. I assumed there would be some warmth inside the caldera of an active volcano, but there was none. My head went under the water, and my arms seemed disconnected. I wasn't even able to spit out a mouthful of water. An involuntary jerk propelled me above water level again. My legs were working, but I still wasn't able to breathe. I was hoping to adjust to the water, but my body went limp instead. Was this how people drown?

  As I sunk slowly, the salt burned my eyes, and I had yet to take a breath. Now totally underwater, I couldn't even cry for help. I tried to push one arm above water. My hand was so cold I couldn't determine if it had broken the surface or not. I gasped and swallowed a massive amount of seawater. Once again I flexed and pushed upward to choke and cough. I was desperate for air, a chance to call out. The cold water closed over my head again, and I felt a strong hand grasp my wrist.

  Another arm wra
pped around my chest just under my breasts and lifted me. I heard his familiar voice in my ear. "Breathe if you can. I've got you."

  He put one leg between my thighs, so that I could sit on him, like riding a pony. It would have been exciting if I hadn't been drowning. Then he pulled me tightly against his chest. I was still strangling.

  "How can you do this?" I whispered when I finally regained my voice. "Aren't you frozen too?"

  "Of course I am, but my hobbies are swimming and body surfing," he smiled. "You are safe. I'll help you get back on the sailboat."

  Onboard we wrapped up in towels, and I pressed against his bare skin. We were both shivering from the icy water.

  "Let me warm you," he said.

  I slipped one arm around his shoulders. The muscles were hard and masculine, wrapped around a powerful bone structure. I suddenly realized I had never felt so much male strength. A swimmer's body? A shiver ran through me, not entirely from the cold. With his free hand he dried my legs with one end of the towel. We spent the rest of the cruise huddled together. Had this man just saved my life? Perhaps my body would have adjusted slowly to the frigid water. Or perhaps not. At least it was the last time I would leap into water without testing the temperature.

  "I've wanted to hold you like this since the day I first saw you on the beach," Robert admitted as he continued to rub me with the towel.

  "Just how much of me did you see on that beach?"

  "Not nearly as much as you saw of me," he replied, laughing. "You had a shirt and also a thin, scarf thing over your bikini bottom."

  "And you were naked? Just holding a towel over your ..."

  "Yes. I was trying to get into the island mood. We Brits don't have the same free spirit as some of the other Europeans. Besides, I'm basically a colonist, just like you. Being from Africa is a little like being raised during the 1960s in the United States. I've been to some topless beaches in Tunisia, but I've never been nude on a beach before. That was my first time."

  "So that was your ass I saw? I was half asleep when you strolled by, and I wasn't sure if your butt was a dream."

  "If I had known you were looking, I would have gone all out," Robert laughed and squeezed me against his chest. I felt my temperature rise like a buzz of electricity.

  This had certainly been a day of extremes. Betrayal, dating, volcano, drowning, and all in a short space of time. Life could certainly change in an instant, and change forever. A shiphand came around serving drinks, and I gulped it down. I don't remember what kind of drink it was.

  At the end of the afternoon I stopped in the hotel office to talk with Anne. She was full of information.

  "The island in the center of the caldera had a small eruption last summer. It was smoking a lot more then. Oia has earthquakes all the time. Several of the houses there were destroyed or condemned a few years ago. Oia has continued to have small tremors, but nothing as severe."

  Anne smiled, but I wasn't reassured. There is nothing like living inside an active volcano to inspire strong feelings of self-preservation. I felt life rapidly returning to all my body parts, including my brain. It was the ultimate irony that all this island beauty came from so much geological violence.

  That night Robert sat on my couch, my head on a pillow in his lap. He stroked my face and damp hair.

  "Robert, I'm not sure why you want to hang out with me. I've been like a patient or an invalid. I feel like I should apologize to you, but instead you are the one who apologizes all the time."

  "Well, I guess I'm attracted to female novelists."

  "I haven't even written a novel yet. You are giving me credit for something I haven't done. I have exactly ten pages of notes and a weak plot outline. That's a long way from a novel."

  "You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?"

  "Well, you have to understand. I grew up the skinny, smart girl with dark hair. I was never the pretty one. Then things got worse; I had to wear glasses. By high school I finally won second place in a beauty contest, but I thought a judge over thirty was too old to know anything about beauty."

  Robert laughed out loud and kissed me on the cheek. "Well, I guess I'm confused because I'm thirty. All I see is an incredibly beautiful woman. Are you aware that men turn to stare at you when you walk by?"

  At this point I pulled his head down to me and kissed him full on the lips for the first time. My mind was blank, but apparently my body needed more. His touch was familiar and exciting at the same time. Was he wearing a scent or did he just smell like that all the time, a combination of sea air and soap? As he held me, I felt my core relax for the first time in days.

  My hair was full of salt water, my skin was sticky, and I was exhausted. I stared at Robert, and I wanted to keep him forever. But that wasn't what I said. One afternoon cruise and it might not be wise to start throwing around words like "forever."

  "Robert, I've made a decision. I need to put the past behind me and use my time to work on my book. I'm going to wash my hair and go to bed early. Then tomorrow I want to visit the archeological dig at Akrotiri to make notes."

  "Well, do you need any help? I still have the jeep, and I could drive you. John and I are both anxious to spend some time there too. I'm pretty good at reading maps, and John read archeology at university. He might know a bit about ancient Minoan culture."

  "I'd love to have some help. Are you sure you won't be bored. I'll be working. It's a shame I can't find a date for John, given the circumstances."

  "I have the answer for everything. I'm keen to use my new camera, and perhaps I can take photos for you? And don't worry about John. He can certainly take care of himself. He grew up in Africa, like I did. I think he was already planning to visit Akrotiri tomorrow. In fact, I believe he fancies the assistant manager and wants to take her. At least he was going to ask her."

  "Anne?"

  "Yes, I think that is her name."

  Chapter Four

  When I woke up in the middle of the night, my skin felt smooth and cool against the clean sheets. I hadn't been brave enough to go bare on the beach, but sleeping clean and naked seemed perfect. I floated out of an erotic dream and rubbed my own breasts. Some delicious man had his shaft between my legs just seconds before. It was thick, and hot, and it was still making me happy. I was trying to see the face of my dream lover when it all started to fade. Had it been Rex or Robert or just some anonymous male? No matter, in my half-awake state, I couldn't bear for it to stop.

  I stumbled over to the chest, pulled out my vibrator and the necessary adapter. Europe has some dangerous voltage for unknown reasons. I also managed to grab some scented lotion I purchased at the stopover in France. After stumbling around in the dark, feeling for the electrical socket, I fell back into the bed, determined to make Robert the face of my fantasy.

  I squeezed the fragrant, lavender cream onto my right nipple and worked it in circles. Then I pinched the nipple with scissor strokes and flipped on the vibrator with my other hand. In my aroused state, I quickly felt the familiar buzz start to warm me. I tried to picture Robert's slim ass on the beach, and immediately fire began to rise between my thighs. I was shocked Robert had such an effect on me! I had seldom felt so much heat.

  A distinct smell of smoke wafted by. Suddenly I wondered if the hotel might be on fire. It could be one of those rare coincidences. If I could just come, then I promised myself I would get up and investigate. I reached to push the button that would urge the vibrator into high. As I glanced down I was shocked to see my electric lover glowing red in the dark. It burned from top to bottom, literally hot in my hand, and my skin was on fire. Actually, my vibrator was about to burst into flames!

  The reality stunned me until my hand began to burn. I realized I couldn't drop it on the bed linens without worsening the situation, so I held on. My first instinct was to jerk the electrical cord, and it proved to be a good one. I fell from the bed, tangled in the covers - still hanging onto the red, hot appliance. I had to do something quickly before my hand becam
e bacon. I reached for a metal trash can and quickly threw it in, praying there was no paper inside. Not exactly the climax I'd hoped for, but certainly fitting for the day.

  In the bathroom I ran water over my hand and hurried back to bed. I guess I used the wrong adapter. What would the maid think of the charred trash can when she came to clean in the morning? Where would I put the burned up vibrator? Would I have to smuggle it out in a beach bag, and then where would I throw it? I could picture a ridiculous scene, trying to fling the vibrator over the edge of a cliff as I rode along in the jeep. Things would be rather obvious to Robert and everyone else. I certainly didn't want it to hit someone below. I fell asleep without a solution. Blissful sleep.

  I woke to a glorious day, bright morning sun spread over the Aegean. I called for breakfast and dressed in an indigo, silk shirt with blue jeans. I tried not to look at the offending vibrator, but glanced at it once and discovered it was badly burned, covered in black ashes and quite impossible to touch. I had no choice but to leave it, while hoping the maid's European attitude would prevail.

  After a quick nibble of yogurt, fruit, and croissants, I joined Robert and our friends to climb out of the hotel, all five sets of stone steps to the road. For the first time in days, I felt light and easy. The open jeep was a treat in the ocean air. I donned my sunglasses and enjoyed the sun on my skin. We found a special parking lot up the hill from Akrotiri. Surprisingly, the entire, ancient excavation was covered with an enormous corrugated roof. There were walkways with ropes for the tourists. Large pottery and other artifacts were placed at various points for display. I was really pleased to have Robert snapping photos at every turn.

  "Robert, you are really wonderful to photograph everything. It saves me enormous energy and time, freeing me to take notes. I'm terribly grateful you are taking so many, and I don't have to direct you. How would I manage without you?"

 

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