What the Greek Can't Resist

by Maya Blake

  Her fingers twisted round the tissue in her hand and his heart twisted along with it. ‘But why here? We could’ve married anywhere else in Greece.’

  He frowned. ‘You don’t remember what you said to me when we met?’

  Confusion marred her forehead. ‘What I said?’

  ‘At Macdonald Hall, you said your first trip to Greece was to Santorini. That you’d always dreamed you’d get married here.’

  Realisation dawned and her eyes grew wide.

  ‘Yes, glikia mou, I wanted to give you that wish.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because your happiness means the world to me.’

  She sucked in a breath. ‘Please don’t say that. Please don’t make me hope.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because you’ll make me want the impossible.’

  ‘What do you want, Perla? Tell me what you want and you might be surprised by how motivated I am to give it to you.’

  When she said nothing, he ventured closer. The orange sundress she wore made her golden-hued skin glow. Unable to resist, he reached out and took her hand in his.

  The shiver that coursed through her echoed through him.

  ‘Please tell me what you want, agape mou.’

  Green eyes rose to his. In their depths he saw courage, determination, naked longing and another emotion he hoped to God was what he imagined it to be.

  ‘I want you. To love me.’

  ‘Only if you love me half as much as I love you, Perla mou.’

  She gasped. ‘What?’

  He kissed her knuckles and closed his eyes for a second when her fingers trembled against his lips.

  ‘I love you. I knew from the first that what I felt for you went beyond mere desire, but I fought it because...well, you know why.’

  ‘But on the plane you said—’

  ‘Something stupid about us not loving each other? That was pure self-protection speaking. I thought I could have what I wanted while protecting my heart.’ He shook his head. ‘The truth is, I don’t need to protect my heart; not from you. Yes, what I feel scared the life out of me but what you and I have also fills me with joy even while making me a little crazy. Every time I look at you, I crave you. Every time I make love to you, I want to do it all over again, immediately. It makes me insane but it also makes me feel more alive than I have in the longest time. I never want to lose you because I intend to drive myself insane for a lifetime. If what I had with Sofia is being described as the love of the century then ours will be the love story of the millennia.’

  Her eyes filled with tears he didn’t hesitate to kiss away. ‘Oh, Arion. I thought you were doing all this for the baby.’

  ‘When I wasn’t sure you’d take me as I was I admit I tried to use our baby to sway you.’

  ‘And I let myself be swayed because I didn’t see any other way to be with you. Now I can tell you that I love you too, without being scared it’ll push you away. Tell me you love me again, Arion.’ Her eyes shone with a brilliance that stopped his heart.

  Happiness rushed into his chest and he had no problem uttering the words. ‘I love you. I wish I’d admitted that to us both sooner. But I intend to make up for lost time. You have my promise on that.’

  He kissed her for a long time, only raising his head when they ran out of air.

  ‘The house is almost ready. But you have a free hand to change anything you want before the wedding tomorrow.’

  She licked lips swollen from his kisses, making him groan. ‘Um, can I practise a woman’s right to change her mind? Blame it on all the pregnancy hormones rushing through my body right now.’

  ‘What do you want to change?’

  She touched his face, leaned forward until their foreheads touched. Ari knew he wouldn’t like what was coming but he didn’t care. ‘The wedding date. The venue. The guest list. Everything?’

  She stopped his groan of protest with her mouth. And he let her.

  EPILOGUE

  ‘IS THIS BETTER?’

  Perla placed her hand over her swollen stomach and sighed with happiness. ‘Much better. I don’t even miss the fact that I can’t have champagne at my own wedding.’ She glanced down at her hand and watched her new platinum wedding ring gleam in the setting Bermudan sun. The flash of her heart-shaped ruby engagement ring also caught the rays as Ari lifted her hand and kissed the back of it.

  ‘You delayed us getting married for four months then refused to wait another two until the baby was here.’

  ‘I thought I could hold out but the thought of calling you my own got too overwhelming.’

  The look that crossed his face was one she’d seen on his brother’s face as he gazed at Brianna. At that time she’d envied it. Right now, she basked in it and sent a prayer of thanks for her very own fantasy coming true.

  ‘You’ve owned me since the moment I saw you, wearing that lipstick you’re henceforth banned from ever wearing in public again. I just didn’t know it yet.’

  ‘Better late than never, I guess.’

  He laughed and they both turned when Sakis and Brianna entered with their three-week-old baby. Dimitri Pantelides was fast asleep in his father’s arms, one fist curled around Sakis’s forefinger.

  Brianna arranged his blanket more snugly around him, then looked up with a cheeky smile. ‘Did you guys see the woman Theo came with? She’s stunning!’

  ‘But she also looks as if this is the last place she wants to be,’ Sakis added, his tone displaying a keen speculation that made Ari shake his head.

  ‘And Theo the last person she wants to be seated next to. The spark between them could’ve rivalled last night’s pre-wedding firework display.’

  ‘Anyone know who she is?’ Brianna asked.

  Perla shook her head and looked at Ari, who shrugged. ‘He introduced her as Inez da Costa, a business associate from Rio.’

  ‘If she’s a business associate, then I’m Santa’s Little Helper!’ Sakis said.

  Ari grinned. ‘Think we should go jerk his chain a little?’

  ‘You stay here with your new wife. I’ll go put my son to bed and then I’ll get right on it. I owe him big for the ribbing he gave me during the Pantelides Oil party on my island.’ Sakis grinned with unabashed relish. He walked off and Brianna rolled her eyes and followed him.

  Ari leaned down and kissed the side of Perla’s neck. ‘Before you think of leaving me because of my crazy brothers,’ he said gruffly, ‘let me tell you again how much I love you. How much I’m honoured to have you in my life and how much I adore you for giving me a chance at true happiness.’

  Her heart soared, and she gasped as their baby kicked in approval.

  ‘I love you too, Arion. You’ve given me the same chance too and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.’

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A QUESTION OF HONOR by Kate Walker.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘YOU KNOW WHY I’m here.’

  The man’s voice was as deep and dark as his eyes, his hair...his heart, for all Clemmie knew. He filled the doorway he stood in, big and broad and dangerously strong. Worryingly so.

  She didn’t know what put that sense of danger into his appearance. There was nothing in the way he stood, the long body relaxed, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of the well-worn jeans that clung to narrow hips and powerful legs, that spoke of threat or any sort of menace. And his face, although rough-hewn and rugged, did not have the type of features that made her think of black shadowy novels about serial killers or vampires rising from the dead.

  Not that serial killers conformed to the myth that evil had to be ugly as well. And this man was definitely not ugly. He was all hunk, if the truth was told. Those deep brown eyes were combined with unbelievably luxuriant black lashes, slashing high cheekbones, surprisingly bronze-toned skin. He was a man for whom the word ‘sexy’ had been created. A man whose powerfully male impact went straight to everything that was female inside her and resonated there, making her shiver. But once the image of a vampire—dark, devastating and dangerous—had settled into her brain there was no way she could shake it loose.

  It was something about the eyes. Something about that cold, direct, unflinching stare. Dead-eyed and unyielding. She couldn’t understand it. And because she couldn’t find a reason for it, it made her shiver all the more though she forced herself not to show it and instead pasted a smile that she hoped was polite but not overly encouraging on to her face.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  If he caught the note of rejection and dismissal she tried to inject into the words then not a sign of it registered in that enigmatic face. He certainly didn’t look discouraged or even concerned but flashed her another of those cold-eyed glances and repeated, with obvious emphasis, ‘You know why I’m here.’

  ‘I think not.’

  She was expecting someone. Had been dreading his arrival for days—weeks. Ever since the time had approached when she would celebrate her twenty-third birthday. If ‘celebrated’ was the right word for marking the day that would mean the end of her old life, and the start of the new. The start of the life she had known was coming but had tried to put out of her mind. Without success. The thought of what her future was to be hung over her like a dark storm cloud, blighting each day that crept nearer to the moment her destiny changed.

  But she had prayed he wouldn’t come so soon. That she would have at least a few more days—just a month would be perfect—before the fate that her father had planned for her when she had been too young to understand, let alone object, closed in around her and locked her into a very different existence.

  The person she had been expecting—dreading—was very different from this darkly devastating male. He was much older for a start. And would never have appeared so casually dressed, so carelessly indifferent to the demands of protocol and security.

  Which was just as well because the sudden and unexpected ring at the doorbell had caught her unawares. She hadn’t even brushed her hair properly after washing it and letting it dry naturally, so that it hung in wild disorder around her face. Her mascara was smudged, and although she’d decided that the lipstick she’d been trying on was really too bright and garish, she hadn’t had time to take any of it off, or in any way lessen the impact of the vivid colour.

  ‘I have no idea who you are or what you’re doing here. If you’re selling something, I’m not interested. If you’re canvassing, I’ll not be voting for your party.’

  ‘I’m not selling anything.’

  No, she’d expected that. His clothes, while too obviously casual for a salesman, had a quality and style that contradicted that thought.

  ‘Then in that case...’

  She’d had enough of this. If he wasn’t going to explain just why he was here then she had no intention of wasting her time standing here in the hallway. She had been busy enough before the autocratic and impatient knock had summoned her to the door and if she hung around any longer she was going to be late for Harry’s party and he would never forgive her.

  ‘I’d appreciate it if you would just leave...’

  She made a move to close the door as she spoke, wanting this over and done with. Hunk or not, he had invaded her world just at the worst possible moment.

  She had so little time to spare. Correction—she had no time to spare. No time at all for herself, no time between her and the future, the fate that had once seemed so far away. She had to finish packing, organise the legal transfer of the cottage and everything else she was leaving behind. And that was always supposing that she could persuade the man she really was waiting for to give her just two days more grace.

  Just forty-eight more hours. It would mean so little to him, except as a delay in the mission he’d been sent on, but it would mean the world to her—and to Harry. A tiny bubble of tension lurched up into her throat and burst there painfully as she thought about the promise she had made to Harry just the previous evening.

  ‘I’ll be there, sweetheart, I promise. I won’t let anything stand in my way.’

  And she wouldn’t, she had vowed. She had just enough time to visit Harry, be with him through this special time, and then make it back home. Back to face the fate she now knew her dreams of escaping would never ever come true. Back to face the prospect of a future that had been signed away from her with the dictates of a peace treaty, the plans of other people so much more powerful than she could ever be. The only thing that made it bearable was the knowledge that Harry would never be trapped as she had been. Her father knew nothing about him, and she would do anything rather than let him find out.

  But that had been before she had received the unwelcome news that the visitor she so dreaded seeing would be here much sooner than she had anticipated. Forty-eight hours earlier. The vital forty-eight hours she needed.

  And now here was this man—this undeniably gorgeous but totally unwelcome man—invading what little was left of her privacy, and holding her up when she needed to be on her way.

  ‘Leave right now,’ she added, the uneasy feelings in her mind giving more emphasis to her words, a hard-voiced stress that she would never have shown under any other circumstances. As she spoke she moved to shut the door, knowing a nervous need to slam it into its frame, right in his face. That feeling was mixed with a creeping, disturbing conviction that if she didn’t get rid of him now, once and for all, he was going to ruin her plans completely.

  ‘I think not.’

  She only just heard his low-toned words under her own sharp gasp of shock as the door hit against some unexpected blockage at its base. She suddenly became disturbingly aware of the way that he had moved forward, sudden and silent as a striking predator, firmly inserting one booted foot between the wood and its frame. A long, strong fingered hand flashed out to slam into it too, just above her head, holding it back with an ease that denied the brutal force he was employing against her own pathetic attempt at resistance. The shock of the impa
ct ricocheted disturbingly up her arm.

  ‘I think not,’ he repeated, low and dangerous. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘Then you’d better think again!’ she tossed at him in open defiance, her head going back, bronze eyes flashing golden sparks of rejection.

  He’d expected problems, Karim Al Khalifa acknowledged to himself. The way that this woman had taken herself off from the court, the sort of life she had set up for herself, ignoring all demands of protocol and safety, in a different country, all indicated that this was not going to be the straightforward task his father had led him to believe. Clementina Savanevski—or Clemmie Savens, which was the name she was masquerading under in this rural English hideaway—knew where her duty lay, or she should do. But the fact that she had run away from that duty, and had been living a carefree life on her own had always indicated that she held her family’s promise very lightly. Far too lightly.

  And now that he was face to face with her, he felt he understood why.

  She had clearly cast off the restraint and the dignity she should be expected to have as a potential Queen of Rhastaan. She had on only a loose, faded tee shirt and shabby denim jeans, the latter so battered that they were actually threadbare in places where they clung to her tall, slender figure. The long dark hair hung wild around her face, tumbling down on to her shoulders and back in a disarray that was as shocking as it was sensual. Her face was marked with dark smudges around her deep amber eyes, a garish crimson lipstick staining her mouth.

  And what a mouth.

  Unexpectedly, shockingly, his senses seemed to catch on the thought, his heart lurching sharply, making his breath tangle inside his chest so that for a second he felt he would never exhale again. His own mouth burned as if it had made contact with the red-painted fullness of hers, his tongue moving involuntarily to sweep over his lower lip in instinctive response.

  ‘I’ll call the police!’