Blackmailed Into the Greek Tycoon's Bed

by Carol Marinelli

  The home was lovely, and when Karin went to the bathroom she discovered wedding pictures and family snaps lining the walls. Karin automatically scanned them for Xante, smiling every time she glimpsed him.

  As the party moved well into the night, Karin found herself relaxing, sitting back on the cane furniture and smiling when Athena joined her.

  ‘Are you enjoying yourself?’

  ‘Very much.’

  ‘It is a good party. Stellios wanted everything to be perfect for his son.’

  ‘It’s all been lovely,’ Karin agreed.

  ‘It is funny when you look at Stellios and you see that he is such a family man,’ Athena said fondly.

  ‘He seems very proud,’ Karin said, struggling just a little with Athena’s English.

  ‘Such a proud family man.’ Athena gave a fond laugh. ‘He was wild when he was younger. Not as bad as Xante, of course…Sorry…’ she said, and Karin realised then she undoubtedly wasn’t. ‘That was not fair of me, bringing up Xante’s past.’

  ‘Xante and I have no secrets.’ Well, if she was going to play the part of the dutiful girlfriend, she might as well do a damn fine job. Besides, she was curious.

  ‘Of course you don’t keep secrets.’ Athena smiled. ‘I just remember their kamaki days.’

  ‘Kamaki?’

  ‘Bad boys,’ Athena explained. ‘Waiting at the airport or at the taverna and watching as the new English girls arrived; they played the game well!’

  Karin felt her stomach tighten, knew she was being goaded. But, staring over at Xante, who was dancing, laughing, utterly at ease, she knew it was probably true. A billionaire he might be now, but money and status hadn’t fully tamed him; he had that street appeal that attracted women, and those dark good looks that would melt any heart.

  After all, it had melted hers.

  ‘I never expected him to end up with an English girl.’ Athena’s pretty eyes narrowed with spite.

  ‘It sounds like he already has,’ Karin said sweetly, refusing to let Athena see she was rattled. ‘Several times.’

  ‘Of course.’ Athena didn’t miss a beat. ‘None of those girls ever got it; he was never going to write, as much as he said he loved them. It was just a game, a conquest, one he had to win. That is the thing with Greek boys—they want to claim your heart, want you to love them with passion, and then…’ Athena shrugged. ‘They leave you weeping. What was it they used to say?’ she asked herself, laughing as she came up with the answer. ‘Pos boron a echo sevasmo yia mia yinuka an tin gamao: how can I have respect for a woman if I so easily bed her? Not that it applies to you, of course.’ She wasn’t even pretending to be nice. ‘I’m sure you kept your legs closed for the requisite time it took you to convince him that you were a lady!’

  Standing up, she took a slug of her wine, her eyes glittering and dangerous, but still somehow sexy. ‘You think you can handle him. Well, you’re wrong. There is more to our culture than you can learn. We know our men. That is why…’ her smile was black now, her eyes narrowed with malice ‘…in winter, always they come back to us.’

  Xante had told her she should act as if she loved him, after all; if she were here with him legitimately, then how would she handle this? Oh, beneath that icy reserve there was still some fire, and it was a pleasure to ponder—and an even bigger pleasure to react.

  ‘Xante and I are aiming for endless summers.’

  ‘I’m not talking about the weather!’ Athena spat.

  ‘Neither am I,’ Karin said, remaining seated, eyeing Athena with contempt. ‘I wouldn’t waste your time waiting for him to come back, Athena; there will be no winter.’

  ‘No?’ Athena checked. ‘Are you quite sure about that? Strange; he was cold and lonely in bed last night after a day with you.’ As Karin sat there, cheeks burning with humiliation, Athena continued, ‘I don’t have to be beside him to keep him warm, Karin. Home, after all, is only a phone call away.’

  It was lucky she was sitting down, Karin thought as Athena flounced off; her legs were shaking from the confrontation, her head buzzing with images she didn’t want to think about.

  ‘Trouble?’ Karin almost jumped out of her skin as Xante’s mother sat beside her. Bracing herself for another verbal lashing, Karin was surprised that after an afternoon and evening of black, suspicious looks Despina had come to make peace. ‘That girl is trouble.’ She gave Karin a warm smile; she really was a stunning-looking woman. ‘I see you help him in the church; still that place upsets him. It is good to see him happy tonight. So many times at these things he stands apart…’

  Xante was enjoying himself.

  Family things were usually fraught, but not this one. He hated going to the church, but today being with Karin had made it easier, and tonight he had actually kicked back and relaxed. He had enjoyed catching up with Stellios and his cousins. Karin wasn’t one of those needy women; just as she had at the hotel, she had chatted and mingled readily, despite the language barrier.

  Glancing over, he had seen Athena talking to Karin, and though it should have unsettled him—he knew what Athena could be like—Xante hadn’t been worried. From Karin’s poise, the way she had handled herself in the church, he was quite sure she was a match for Athena. Anyway, he was paying her well!

  So, for the first time in family history, Xante relaxed and partied into the night.

  Till he saw her talking to his mother.

  Xante was over in a trice to help Karin out…

  Only his mother was not only smiling—worse than that, she was laughing.

  ‘The party is finished…’ She was even talking in English! ‘Now you bring Karin home.’

  Karin didn’t really understand what was said next, the word ‘Mykonos’ was bandied about a few times, and she was fast learning that ochee must mean ‘no’, because Xante shook his head every time he said it. Eventually she understood that, here in Greece, Despina ruled.

  ‘We’re staying the night at my mother’s.’ Xante’s face was like thunder, as he took her hand. She could feel the tension in it as they bid their farewells, laughing to herself, almost; this was so not how he had planned it.

  It was a short walk to his family home, up another cobbled street, and Despina let them in to the unlocked house, leading them into a lounge Karin assumed was kept for ‘best’, because it was spotless. All her needle-point was proudly on display, and little crosses and candles surrounded pictures of what could only be Xante’s father.

  ‘She likes you.’ Xante gave a slow eye-roll as Despina went off to the kitchen to make coffee.

  ‘Sorry about that.’ Karin smirked.

  ‘Everybody likes you!’ Xante brooded.

  ‘Not everyone,’ Karin said brightly. ‘I don’t think I’m much of a hit with Athena. I thought she was your ex.’

  ‘She is!’ Xante said.

  ‘Yet she still rings you?’ Karin’s eyes narrowed; she could feel this lick of jealousy curling in her stomach that wasn’t actually merited. It was none of her business what Xante got up to, and Xante told her as much.

  ‘Had we been seeing each other for two months, that question would be merited.’

  ‘You really can’t live without sex, can you?’ Karin sneered.

  ‘Why would anyone want to?’ His question made her burn, as did his raw, brazen sexuality she envied so. ‘Why, Karin?’

  ‘Because it should mean something,’ Karin croaked.

  And for that he had no answer, because in that Xante was fast finding out she was right. Xante was tired of snapping his fingers for service, tired of rolling over in bed and trying to remember her name, tired of being three months into a relationship and finding out she bored him. He stared over at Karin’s pale beauty, at the one woman he couldn’t win on charm alone, a woman he had to bribe to get into his bed—a thief, a drunk and a liar.

  And yet there was a dignity to her that captivated him.

  His mother was calling out to him from the kitchen, but it was Karin’s eyes that blocked ev
erything out. Karin was a woman with whom sex would mean something.

  Despina was nothing like the suspicious woman from the church. She sat, laughed and chatted, and showed Karin hundreds of photos—including a curly-haired little girl whom Karin could have sworn had horns!

  ‘Trouble!’ Despina said, tapping the photo.

  ‘I thought you were on Athena’s side,’ Xante reminded her. ‘Last time I was home, you were still hoping I’d see sense and marry her!’

  ‘That was a year ago, Xante!’ Karin was touched that in front of her they spoke in English, even when the conversation was uncomfortable and it would have been much easier to revert to their native tongue. ‘Things change in a year—not that you’d know!’

  ‘I’ve been busy.’

  ‘Always busy!’ Despina rolled her eyes, then looked over to Karin. ‘I hope he has more time for you.’

  There was no right answer, so Karin didn’t offer one. For once she just sat, watching Xante, who was looking less than comfortable as his mother continued. ‘Athena likes a lot of this…’ She rolled her fingers and thumbs together in a cash gesture. ‘And I hear in the village that she likes a lot of this too…’ Despina pointed down to her crutch, shocking Karin but making Xante give a snort of laughter. ‘The two things you are good at providing,’ she said, pointing at Xante.

  ‘You will see that my mother doesn’t mince her words.’ Xante grinned at Karin’s taken-aback expression. ‘Here in Greece, we say it as it is.’

  ‘You certainly do!’

  ‘Watch her, Xante,’ Despina warned. ‘She makes trouble.’

  ‘We were finished five years ago.’

  ‘Athena doesn’t think so.’

  There was the customary viewing of the house before bedtime, and when Despina pushed open a door and gestured to a single bed Karin could have kissed her.

  ‘You sleep here, kalinihta.’

  She glared at her son in a stern warning, and Karin hardly dared looked at him—except she couldn’t resist. His petulant face, like a cat thrown out in a storm, really was a sight for sore eyes.

  ‘Kalinihta,’ Karin said sweetly, giving him a kiss on the cheek and closing the bedroom door. For the second night in a row, rather than earning her stripes Karin slept beautifully, encased in crisp, white cotton, with Despina no doubt guarding the door.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WAKING up in his mother’s home—hearing the bustle of the kitchen, smelling the scent of coffee, pastry and almonds, and Xante and his mother chatting in their native tongue—for the first time in the longest time Karin realised she had overslept.

  The single bed was so cosy and warm, the house so welcoming, the voices wafting through the walls so soothing. It was tempting to just roll over and go back to sleep and pretend that this was all real, that this was her life, but of course it wasn’t. Instead, Karin showered and dressed. Last night’s suit seemed a touch over the top for breakfast, so she left off the jacket and wore bare feet before heading out to her unlikely host.

  ‘Kalimera!’ She smiled to Despina as she walked into the kitchen, then to Xante, who was sitting reading a paper at the table. She kissed his unshaven, scowling face. ‘How did you sleep, darling?’

  ‘Better than I will tonight!’ Xante warned. She could taste salt on her tongue as she licked her lips.

  ‘Have you been swimming?’

  ‘I told you, I swim in the sea every morning when I am here.’ Xante returned to his paper. ‘It was rather necessary this morning, though; I have to work off my energy somehow.’

  ‘Poor Xante!’ Karin answered, realising she was still smiling—had been smiling, in fact, from the second she’d awoken. Two nights away from her brother and the chaos at home, and she was starting to relax.

  Really relax.

  She had been right to get away; that little bit of distance was helping her to see things more clearly.

  She was tired of the facade, tired of trying to keep the once great Wallis name unsullied. She was also tired of lying for Matthew, and even though it had never been Xante’s intention this tiny escape had been more than a reprieve—it had been her salvation.

  ‘Not quite how you planned it, is it?’ she said softly, not mocking him now.

  He caught her eyes, gave her a very begrudging smile, and then another one—a different smile this time, ironic and funny, and it made her smile too.

  And though Karin wouldn’t want to live with her, even if it came with the bonus of Xante, Despina really was delightful. This busy, elegant woman with shrewd eyes and sharp wit was a wonderful host, and could easily shock and make her laugh.

  Xante was certainly his mother’s son.

  ‘I tell him to take you to mountain. His moped is here.’

  ‘You have a moped?’

  ‘All Greek boys have mopeds…’ Xante rolled his eyes. ‘It’s ancient. I doubt it will even start, let alone get us up a mountain.’

  But his cousin still used it, apparently. And, anticipating arguments, Despina had found a cream crocheted-cardigan and a pair of pretty flat shoes for Karin. Xante’s shirt looked okay rolled up, minus the silver cufflinks, but he refused point blank to wear an old jumper of his father’s. And, to Karin’s nervous surprise, an hour after breakfast Despina had packed a lunch and a blanket and was waving them off. There was no hint or suggestion of a helmet. They probably weren’t going that fast, Karin consoled herself, yet it felt like it, buzzing along the hillside, her skirt pushed up more than she would like, the wind whipping her hair, the winter weather so mild it could almost count as an English summer.

  Feeling his muscles beneath her fingers, the air growing colder as he took them higher, she could feel tiny goose bumps on her skin. Then, when they bumped off the road and onto a beaten track, Karin had no choice but to wrap her arms around him if she wanted to stay on. The moped bumped her forward and her cheek brushed his back; it just felt right to rest her cheek there now, right to hold on tight and sink into him.

  There was a strange feeling of déjà vu for Xante as the forest sped by. He felt her knees avoid gripping him at first, then felt her slowly give in, her hands now holding tight around his waist. Up the mountain they went past all his regular haunts, and for Xante it was like reliving his past.

  But it was there, as her arms finally wrapped around him, that any déjà vu ended. There was no rush of triumph as he felt her lean into him, no unseen smirk on his face as he felt her body finally yield. His throat was so tight he could hardly get air in; he felt hollowed out with a sudden gratefulness as finally she accepted him. There was no fire in his groin as he raced now to bed her, just a need, a want to hold onto this moment for ever, to ride on and on with her soft body warming his. Xante truly didn’t know where he was going. He knew the mountains like the back of his hands, but he just didn’t know where this was leading.

  He took her to a small copse, laid the rug on the ground, and they ate bathed in green, bosky light, his black eyes trying to work this elusive woman out. Her hair was tangled from the ride, her eyes clear and bright, and if he’d had a camera he’d have captured her image for ever. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, carefree and laughing.

  Lunch was simple but fantastic, great chunks of bread which they dipped in olive oil; a crisp Greek salad all washed down with a bottle of sparkling water.

  And for the first time ever, he told someone.

  Told her how it nearly killed him to come back home.

  How he hated the island and the waters that had taken his father, and most of all how he hated the company whose negligence had caused it. How, at nine years old, he had sworn revenge and had worked his fingers to the bone to achieve it.

  ‘I bought the company when I was 22.’ Xante was lying on his side, propped up on his elbow, while Karin lay on her back staring up at the tree tops and wishing she never had to go home. ‘And then I sacked every corrupt manager who worked there. I paid the fishermen properly, repaired their vessels so they were fit to go on
to the water…It all grew from there. Now I can support my mother properly—not that she wants it. She is happy to live in the house she lived in with my father. For her, money changes nothing. She will wear black till she dies.’

  ‘She seems happy.’

  Xante shook his head.

  ‘She does!’ Karin insisted, but she could see his point. This beautiful, vibrant woman, with so much love to share, was alone in the world. It didn’t seem fair. ‘How old was your father when he died?’

  ‘Thirty.’ Xante didn’t elaborate, but there was a pensive note to the single word that had Karin catch a breath for a second before she spoke.

  ‘The same age as you are now?’

  ‘You are twenty-five, yes?’ Xante checked, and Karin nodded. ‘My mother had me when she was sixteen. Her life was over at the age you are now.’

  ‘Not over,’ Karin croaked, but his words were so close to the bone it hurt. They weren’t talking about children, grandchildren, careers and houses, they were talking about sex, love, passion and romance. Talking about the very thing that, prior to Xante, she had been sure she would have to forever live without. ‘You should try to come back more often,’ Karin pushed, even if it wasn’t her place to.

  ‘So I can watch her grieve? So I can listen to her tell me again how I always let her down?’ Xante shook his head ‘I caused her a lot of pain in the past…’ His face was grim.

  ‘She seems to have got over Athena.’

  ‘It’s not just that. I was wild as a teenager, angry with the world; I caused her shame.’

  ‘Teenagers often do,’ Karin said softly. ‘They push the boundaries, rebel against everything, and then hopefully they live long enough to grow out of it.’

  Why did she have to say the right thing and make him feel better? He’d never shared like this, never opened up to anyone—and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

  ‘What about you?’ Xante asked. ‘What were you like as a teenager?’