What the Greek Can't Resist

by Maya Blake

  ‘Your manners seemed to have deserted you. I’m merely redressing the situation.’ He pulled out a chair. ‘Please sit down.’

  Lifting an eyebrow, she remained standing.

  With a shrug, he remained standing too.

  She blew out an irritated breath. ‘My manners haven’t deserted me. You stepped in and took over a situation I had under control. What did you think, that the bartender would’ve vaulted over the counter and assaulted me in plain sight of the other customers?’ she snapped.

  He broke his fascination with her hair and dropped his gaze to capture hers. ‘What other customers?’ he asked.

  ‘The couple over there—’ She broke off as she looked around. The young couple were gone. Aside from a waiter who was clearing a few other tables, only the tall stranger and bartender remained in the bar. As she watched, the waiter walked through a set of swinging doors and disappeared.

  She swallowed. ‘This is a reputable place. Things like that don’t happen here.’

  ‘And what exactly do you base that statistic on? Are you a frequent visitor?’

  She flushed. ‘No, of course not. And I’m not naïve. I just...I just think—’

  ‘That predators in Savile Row suits are less vicious than those in hoodies?’ His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

  ‘No, that’s not what I meant. I came here for a quiet drink.’ Her gaze dropped to the bold and garish-looking cocktail standing next to his dark-coloured spirit.

  This was fast getting out of hand, and she needed to think about getting back. Or she would have more explaining to do.

  He indicated the chair one more time. ‘You can still have it. And you needn’t worry about making conversation. We can sit here and not...talk.’

  His words piqued her curiosity. Or maybe she just wanted a distraction from the pain and chaos that awaited her the moment she left this place.

  She forced herself to look at him—really look past the surface hurt-your-eyes gorgeousness of the man—past the powerful shoulders underneath the impeccable suit and loosened silk tie. His hair was slightly ruffled, as if he’d shoved a hand through it once or twice.

  The brackets around his mouth were deeply grooved and when she chanced another look into his eyes, what Perla glimpsed made her heart hammer.

  In that instant she knew he wasn’t here to prey on unsuspecting or vulnerable women. That wasn’t to say women would be safe from the sensual aura and sheer charisma that oozed from him. Far from it.

  But for tonight, in this very moment, whoever this man was, the emotions lurking in his eyes weren’t of a predatory nature. The pain she saw resonated with her on so deep a level, she found it hard to breathe through it.

  His eyes narrowed, as if sensing the direction of her thoughts. He stiffened and his mouth firmed. For a moment she thought he was going to change his mind about his earlier invitation.

  Abruptly he moved a step forward, touched the back of the chair. ‘Sit down. Please,’ he repeated.

  Perla sat. In silence, he pushed her drink towards her.

  ‘Thank you,’ she murmured.

  He inclined his head and raised his glass towards her. ‘To not talking.’

  She touched her glass to his; a surreal feeling overtook her as she stared at him over the rim of her glass and took a sip of her cocktail. The potent alcohol hit the back of her throat, warming and cooling at the same time. The tartness of the pomegranate burst on her tongue, making her close her eyes in a single moment of pleasure before the strength of his scrutiny propelled her eyelids back open.

  Once again, he seemed fascinated with her hair. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to fiddle with it. She sucked harder on her straw, partly to finish the drink quicker so she could leave and partly because it gave her something to do other than stare at this hauntingly beautiful man.

  They sipped their drinks in silence.

  With a very unsettling amount of regret, Perla set her empty glass down.

  The stranger followed suit. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For controlling the urge to indulge in idle chit-chat.’

  ‘I told you, that’s not what I came here for. If it was, I’d have brought a friend. Or come earlier when I knew there would be more people here. I presume you chose this time for the same reason.’

  A shaft of pain flitted over his features but was gone in the next instant. ‘You presume correct.’

  She shrugged. ‘Then there’s no need to thank me.’

  He stilled, the only movement his gaze as it flew once again to her hair. When it traced down to her mouth, Perla became very much aware of the scarlet lipstick. Before she could stop herself, she licked her tingling lower lip.

  His low hiss was an alien sound that sent a fresh wave of goose bumps over her skin. She’d never elicited such a reaction in a man before. Perla wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or terrified.

  ‘Are you staying here, at Macdonald Hall?’ she asked, in the hope of deflecting the unsettling feeling his hiss had elicited.

  The stranger’s hand tightened slowly into a fist on the table. ‘For tonight and the next few nights, yes.’

  She looked from his hand to his face. ‘Why do I get the feeling that you don’t want to be here?’ she asked.

  ‘Because we don’t always get to decide our own fate. But I’m obliged to be here for the next few days. It doesn’t mean I’m pleased about it.’

  She glanced at his empty glass. ‘Then I suppose you’ll be upgrading to a bottle instead of a glass shortly?’

  He shrugged. ‘Drinking is one way of making the time pass faster, I suppose.’

  Danger crawled across her skin, sparking a flame in her belly, but Perla couldn’t move. ‘When you’re alone in a bar at almost midnight, I don’t really see much else to entertain you.’ Her voice emerged huskier than she’d ever heard it.

  He raised a dark eyebrow. ‘But I’m not alone. Not any more. I’ve saved you, a damsel in distress, and my reward is your company for now.’

  ‘I’m not a damsel in distress. Besides, you don’t know me from a blade of grass. I could be one of those predators you described, for all you know, Mr...?’

  Her blatant demand for his name went unanswered as he nodded to the bartender and indicated their empty glasses.

  ‘I don’t think I should have another drink—’

  Hooded hazel eyes trapped hers. ‘But we’re just getting to know one another. You were telling me about being a ruthless predator.’

  ‘And you wanted to be alone less than ten minutes ago, remember? Besides, what makes you think I want to get to know you?’

  His small smile was both self-assured and self-pitying, a curious, intriguing combination. ‘I don’t. Forgive me for the assumption. If you wish you leave, you may do so.’

  Again the courteous words laced with arrogance set her teeth on edge. But Perla found she couldn’t look away from the fascinating man, whose extremely powerful aura held a wealth of pain and sadness that drew her...made her hesitate.

  She licked her lips and immediately regretted it when his gaze latched onto the movement. ‘I don’t need your permission but I...I’ll stay for another drink.’

  He nodded solemnly. ‘Efharisto.’ The way his voice and sensual lips formed the word made her stomach perform an annoying little flip.

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Greek, for thank you.’

  ‘Oh, you’re Greek? I love Greece. I visited Santorini a long time ago for the wedding of a client. I remember thinking at the time it’s where I’d like to get married one day. That has got to rank up there as one of the most beautiful places on earth—’ Perla drew to a sharp halt as his face tightened suddenly. ‘I’m sorry. Mindless chit-chat?’

  One
corner of his mouth lifted. ‘It’s not as mindless as I thought it would be. So you love Greece. What else do you love?’

  Her gaze dropped to the table, then immediately rose to meet his, almost against her will. ‘Is this the part where I say long walks in the rain with that special someone?’

  ‘Only if it’s true. Personally, I detest the rain. I prefer wall-to-wall sunshine. And the sea.’

  ‘And the special someone is optional?’

  That look she’d caught on his face earlier returned—the cross between ragged pain and guilt—and this time it stayed for several moments before he shrugged.

  ‘If you’re lucky enough to have the choice, and to hang onto your good fortune.’

  She bit her lip but was stopped from answering as the bartender delivered their order. Again silence ensued as they sipped their drinks. Only this time, when his gaze travelled over her, she boldly watched him back.

  The silvery strands that blended into his temples coupled with the designer stubble gave him a seriously gorgeous but distinctly imposing look that sent her heart thudding faster. He looked vaguely familiar. Mentally shrugging, Perla concluded she must have seen him in the newspaper or on TV. His air of importance and easy way he commanded power lent itself to that theory. And, of course, he was here, at Macdonald Hall, one of the most exclusive private sport clubs in the country.

  His fingers curled around his glass and she watched him lift his drink to his lips, his gaze staying on hers. Heat rushed through her, filling her up in places she’d begun to think were frozen forever. Perla tried to tell herself it was the alcohol but in an angry rush of rejection she forced herself to face the truth. She was done lying to herself, to glossing over the bare truth in order to lessen her pain.

  No more!

  She was attracted to this man. To his gorgeous, pain-etched face, the haunted hazel eyes, the strong stubbled jaw she wanted to run her fingers over just to see if it felt as rough as his manly, callused fingers. The mental pictures reeling through her head should’ve shocked and shamed her. But, for tonight, Perla was determined to suspend shame. And really, when had looking been a crime? And he was as exquisite a specimen as any.

  ‘Be careful, little one. This big, bad wolf has vicious, merciless teeth.’

  The softly voiced caution ripped her from her thoughts.

  What was she doing?

  In a rush, she put down her barely touched drink, stood up and snatched her handbag. ‘I...you’re right. Caution is usually my middle name so, um...thanks for the drink.’ Her tongue felt thick with the lack of knowledge of the proper etiquette. ‘And for the company.’

  Her breath caught when he stood to tower over her. ‘Did you drive here?’ he demanded.

  ‘Yes, but I barely touched my second drink and—’

  ‘My driver will deliver you home.’

  A mixture of fear and anxiety roiled through her. Imagine the gossip if she returned home in a strange man’s car! Granted it was almost midnight but it would only take one sighting for the rumour mill to spin into overdrive. She had enough on her plate to deal with as it was.

  ‘No. That’s very kind of you but it’s not necessary.’

  His striking, very hypnotic eyes narrowed. In that moment, all Perla noticed were his insanely thick eyelashes and the way his mouth turned down when he was displeased. The urge to take that look from his face shocked her into stepping back. When she took another step back, he followed.

  ‘Let me at least walk you to your car.’

  ‘I’m perfectly capable—’

  ‘That wasn’t a suggestion.’

  ‘Didn’t you warn me about Savile-Row-dressed predators a short while ago?’

  That sad, almost haunted smile made another appearance. Those endlessly fascinating fingers delved into his bespoke jacket and emerged with his smartphone. He tapped the three-digit emergency number into it and extended it to her, pointing to the dial button. ‘Hit that button if I so much as exhale the wrong way between here and your car. But make no mistake, I’m walking you out of here and seeing you into your car.’

  With a shaky hand, she took his phone. His fingers brushed then stilled against hers. Warmth infused her. Without thinking, she rubbed her fingers against his and heard his sharp intake of breath as he fell into step beside her.

  The walk to her car took minutes but it felt like the longest walk of her life. Beside her, the tall, dark and dangerous stranger lessened his significantly long stride to match hers. Over and over again, Perla felt the heat of his gaze travel over her. She forced herself not to glance at him. To do so would’ve wavered her intent, made her give in to the intensely mortifying need that had taken root inside her.

  But, with each dreaded step to her car, Perla felt as if she was fighting a losing battle. What had she achieved by coming here? So far, a big fat nothing. She hadn’t even broached the task she would give everything not to have to deal with. A task she would’ve given everything not to return to.

  Surely it wasn’t wrong to make this moment with this perfect stranger last a little longer? She gave an inward sigh.

  Who was she kidding? Fate had stuck two fingers up to her over and over. Why should tonight be any different?

  She stopped beside her car and turned towards him. With a deep breath, she held out his phone. ‘I told you this wasn’t necessary. But again, thanks.’

  He barely glanced at the gadget. ‘You’re not out of danger yet.’

  She looked up into his face. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, her voice a touch too breathless.

  He stepped closer, his body heat slamming into her, making her head spin. ‘Hang onto it for a little while longer. I don’t want to end our conversation, not just yet.’

  Perla’s pulse rate shot up even higher. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because...’ He seemed to catch himself just then. A frown creased his brow and he shook his head.

  When he stepped back, a spasm of fear that she was losing him made her lean towards him. ‘Because...?’

  He focused on her. Hazel eyes pinned her to the spot, then rushed to her hair, over her face, her neck, down to her toes before coming back to her face. He muttered something under his breath, something in his native tongue that held no meaning for her.

  ‘Tell me your name.’

  Her mouth dried. ‘It’s...Pearl.’ She cringed inwardly at the small fib but, growing up, her unusual name had often been mistaken for the more common Pearl. Besides, the anonymity made her feel less exposed.

  His hooded gaze dropped to her lips, its message so blatantly sexual, her breath stalled in her chest. ‘I have an irresistible urge to kiss you, Pearl. Does that make you want to run?’

  The rawness behind the words rocked her to her soul, resonated beside her own turmoil. She watched his eyes slowly grow darker, more tormented. Before she could consciously stop herself, she reached up and cupped his taut cheek.

  ‘No. But it makes me want to know what’s wrong,’ she said softly.

  He made a rough sound under his breath, like a proud but wounded animal. ‘Nothing I wish to bore you with tonight.’

  ‘What makes you think I’ll be bored? Perhaps I need the distraction as much as you do,’ she said in a rush of confession. She swayed closer and stopped herself a mere whisper from him. ‘Perhaps I want to give you what you want because it’s what I want too?’ It felt a little absurd, having this conversation with him. But it also felt...oddly right.

  ‘Be very careful what you wish for, little one,’ he breathed.

  ‘Oh, but I have been. Very careful. Too careful at times. I’m tired of being careful.’

  His hand reached up to cover hers, pressed her hand harder into his jaw. Underneath her fingers, his stubble bristled against her palm, sparking an electric current that transmitted up her arm and suffused her w
hole body.

  ‘Don’t offer temptation you won’t be able to deliver on,’ he warned.

  ‘Are you challenging me?’

  ‘I’m offering a word of caution. I don’t wish to frighten you so perhaps you should leave now,’ he grated out. ‘Or stay, if you’re brave enough. I accept that the choice is yours. But decide quickly.’

  Contrary to his words, his fingers caught and imprisoned a thick strand of her hair, his movement almost reflexive as he passed the tresses through his fingers repeatedly.

  Caught in a sensation so alien and yet so right, Perla closed that last tiny gap between them. Strong hands immediately caught her to him. She collided with over six feet of lean muscle that knocked the air out of her lungs.

  Before she could draw breath, his lips settled over hers. Every thought flew out of her head as she became lost in pure, electric sensation. He kissed her as if she was life-giving oxygen, as if he needed her to survive. That knowledge more than anything caught a fragile spot inside her; shook it free and allowed her to enjoy this, to become a part of this small healing process that they both needed.

  With a groan, she pressed herself closer until she could feel his heartbeat against her breasts, the ridged chest muscles crushing her softer ones. Both his hands encompassed her waist and lifted her up onto the bonnet of her car. Then he plunged both fingers into her hair, angled her face up to his and proceeded to dive deeper into their kiss.

  Only the need for air finally separated them.

  Perla’s breaths puffed out into the cool night and threatened to cease altogether when she saw the smear of scarlet on his lips.

  Reaching up, she touched his mouth. He made a sound of mingled pain and pleasure and she almost lost her mind.

  ‘I...I...’ She wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted to say. Only that she needed to make sense of what was happening to her. ‘Is that enough?’ From the depths of her soul came a yearning for him to say no.

  When he shook his head, her heart soared.

  ‘No, it’s not. The taste of you is intoxicating. I want to drown in you.’ He captured her face in his hands and kissed her some more, murmuring phrases in Greek she had no hope of understanding. When he released her, he was breathing hard. Pulling her close, he rested his forehead against hers. ‘Theos...this is madness, but I can’t let you go. Not yet.’ He pulled back and tilted her face to his, his hazel eyes swirling with the same potent need that twisted inside her. ‘Stay with me tonight, Pearl.’