Mia’s Scandal

by Michelle Reid

  The impression stung like acid through the layers of her skin as she chose a seat on the other side of the cabin and sat down. She refused to look at him as he folded his long frame into the seat farthest away from her. If two people wished to announce they were at war, then their seating choices flagged the battle line.

  The door slid shut. Rotor blades began to move. The angry butterflies playing havoc with her insides altered to anxious tingles as she felt the contraption lift off the ground. As her heart dipped alarmingly she watched with wide eyes and, in what felt like only seconds, she found herself staring down at the river which looked like a silver ribbon glinting in the sun.

  He did not speak. She did not speak. But she could feel the fierce heat of his mood reaching out towards her across the empty gap.

  And her lips were still burning so hotly from the kiss she found she just had to try to cool them with the moist tip of her tongue. Her mouth suddenly came alive with the taste of him. Shocked that a kiss could leave such an intimate residue behind, she slammed her tongue against the back of her teeth and refused to let it move again.

  ‘Drink—?’

  Mia forced herself to look at him, only to feel a strange heavy weight descend across her chest. He looked different again—as in dangerously different. His lounging posture in the corner of the plush leather seat, with his long legs stretched out in front of him, yelled cool, calm arrogance at her, yet his half-narrowed eyes and the glint emitting from them warned of something new lurking around inside him, as if he’d flung on yet another change of mood.

  Passion-desire, she named it, without knowing how she recognised either thing. Her eyes dropped to his mouth, his wide sensual mouth. Could he taste her as she could still taste him—?

  Mia shook her head and turned to look at the horizon where the built-up city had begun to thin out and the earth below them was slowly turned into a thousand shades of green as they flew over countryside.

  Across the cabin, Nikos was talking on his mobile phone. In front of her, hidden behind a bulkhead, some invisible person was flying them to—she knew not where because she had forgotten to ask where they were staying.

  A short while later they began to sink downwards. Mia saw a series of slated rooftops forming the shape of a large country house standing in the centre of sweeping clipped green lawns sloping down to a tiny lake.

  As they settled on the grass a short walk away from the creamy painted walls of the house, she assumed that it must be a hotel. And only realised her mistake when Nikos led the way in through the front door and she heard him greet a smartly dressed man with thick greying hair, before strolling over to a side table to begin sifting through the small pile of letters she could see waiting there.

  ‘This is a house,’ she murmured, pausing to look around the light and airy hallway.

  Nikos threw her a glance. ‘What did you think it was?’

  ‘A hotel.’

  His smile was more of a grimace. ‘This is my home—or the one I use at weekends if I’m in England.’

  ‘Sophie did not mention it.’

  ‘Why would she?’

  Eyelashes flickering away from the sturdy staircase built of rich golden oak which took up central position, Mia looked at him, then away again.

  ‘No reason,’ she said, except that Sophie always seemed to know everything, so the fact that she did not know Nikos had a country house in Hampshire seemed—odd. ‘How many homes do you have?’ she asked curiously.

  ‘Too many, probably,’ he mocked. ‘I don’t like hotels,’ he explained. ‘I prefer my own space.’

  There was something in the way that he’d said that, which made Mia frown as she studied his face. It told her nothing, and he appeared completely relaxed, yet—

  Someone came in through the open front door then, making her turn about. It was the man Nikos had greeted as they’d arrived here and he was carrying her holdall and dress bag.

  ‘This is Lukas.’ Nikos made the introductions. ‘Lukas keeps the house running smoothly. If you need anything while you’re here, Lukas can usually provide it. Miss Balfour, Lukas,’ he said.

  ‘Good afternoon, Miss Balfour,’ Lukas greeted her politely. ‘I will take your things up to your room, then organise some refreshment.’

  He strode off towards the stairs, leaving Mia chewing her bottom lip as she watched him go. It was all very easy, very polite. Very much as she’d become used to at Balfour Manor, yet it was contrarily nothing like that estate. Balfour Manor was vast in comparison to this house, with masses of heavy panelling, and long galleried walkways steeped in priceless works of art and stunning antiques. This place had soft cream walls and a gentle, more classical feel to it.

  She liked it.

  ‘Take a look around while I finish reading through these,’ Nikos invited, his attention back on his stack of mail.

  Wandering off, Mia discovered that all the doors stood open already as if in invitation for her to step into each room. The first one she chose turned out to be a beautiful living room with squashy gold velvet sofas and chairs. A grand piano stood in front of a pair of French windows situated at one end of the room.

  ‘Do you play?’ she asked Nikos as she walked out of the room again.

  ‘I used to. I don’t have much time these days.’

  Wondering why he sounded so indifferent to possessing such a wonderful gift, she crossed the hall to the other side and discovered a creamy book-lined study with a large desk filling the window and olive-green furnishings.

  Stepping out again she saw that Nikos had finished with his letters and was now studying her. A frisson ran down through her body. Conscious suddenly that they appeared to be alone here apart from Lukas, Mia wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with the arrangement, though she tried not to show it.

  ‘How—how far are we away from the D’Lassios’ place?’ she asked him.

  ‘Five minutes by helicopter, twenty minutes by car. Do you want to see the rest of the house or are you ready for something to eat and drink?’

  She didn’t know what she wanted to do. Her fingers were restlessly pleating together and unpleating again, and for some reason she felt very unsure of her ground where his mood was concerned right now. He was relaxed, yes. He was being very pleasant. But there was something different about him that made her want to—

  What—?

  Back off? Run?

  He was not offering to show her to her room, which was usually the first thing people did with a guest who was staying overnight. Not that she wanted him to show her to her room, Mia told herself quickly. But—

  But what?

  Exasperated with herself, she decided her best choice while she was feeling so unsettled was, ‘I think I would like to look around some more.’

  With a nod of his dark head he led the way towards the back of the house. Half an hour later she’d been shown an all-purpose gym and an indoor swimming pool, a very elegant dining room, two more less formal sitting rooms and a huge rear garden that was a blaze of colour from the early summer flowering bulbs. Not once did Nikos rest so much as a hand on her, yet she quivered inwardly all the time as if he was threatening to do it.

  It was the fault of the kiss, she told herself. The knowledge that he had come at her out of nowhere with it and so could easily come at her out of nowhere with something else.

  He was volatile—unpredictable. The kind of man who was a law to himself. He fascinated and unnerved her in equal measures, and her awareness of his close proximity played like a bow across the taut string of her nerves, which in turn kept every sense she possessed honed on him.

  ‘It’s a very big house for just Lukas to look after,’ she remarked eventually. ‘You have no other staff?’ She hadn’t seen a single other person.

  ‘Plenty, but they know not to be around when I’m here,’ Nikos said.

  Because, as he’d already said, he liked his own space—which should not surprise her since she was able to live in the service flat at his Lon
don apartment because he usually kept it empty.

  His mobile phone rang then and, after taking the call, he murmured, ‘Excuse me, I have to deal with this,’ and strode off towards his study, talking in Greek.

  It was like being let off for good behaviour. Mia felt herself almost deflate with relief. Working closely with him was taxing. Fighting with him was taxing! But being treated to a whole hour of his graciously polite side had worn her out!

  How did he manage to switch his moods on and off like a light switch? How did he go from impatient boss to hot, angry kisser with serious possessive tendencies that made her insides flip over to amiable companion?

  Passionate, pre-calculating, domineering and dangerous, she listed, quivering despite not wanting to react at all.

  What mood was he going to treat her to next? The urban sophisticate wearing his social mask while a Balfour hung on his arm?

  He was tying her emotions in knots with his quick-change mood swings. She needed something to do to take her mind off him.

  Fortunately Lukas appeared as if by magic to offer her the promised refreshment. ‘It’s such a beautiful day, perhaps you would enjoy sitting out on the terrace? I’m sure Mr Nikos will not be long.’

  Mr Nikos could take as long as he liked, Mia thought as she followed Lukas across one of the rear sitting rooms and outside. The moment she relaxed into a cushioned chair and the warmth of the sun touched her face, she felt homesick for Tuscany and Tia Giulia’s peeling pink farmhouse and the rickety wooden furniture they used like an extension of the old-fashioned kitchen throughout the long summer months.

  Lukas unfurled a huge canvas umbrella, suddenly dousing her in shade. She knew he’d meant well but she’d been happier to close her eyes and bake for a little while, something she had not had the opportunity to do since she’d arrived in England.

  Just something else she missed about Tuscany.

  ‘Something cool to drink or would you prefer coffee or tea?’ enquired Lukas.

  A sudden imp inside her made her want to demand a large shot of vodka, just to see how Lukas would react. She had never, ever tasted vodka but the house, Lukas and all of this polite care and attention did not fit with the cool, tough, impersonal if-I-can-do-it-myself-I-will nature of Nikos Theakis.

  ‘Something cool,’ she said meekly, smiling wryly to herself.

  ‘Coffee for me, Lukas,’ a third voice instructed.

  Nikos strode out of the house and into the sunshine, then paused for second, lifting up his face as if he’d missed the sun too. His sweater had gone and he’d rolled back the sleeves of his checked shirt, revealing strong muscled forearms smattered lightly with fine black hair that made his skin look deeply tanned.

  For a timeless moment Mia was held transfixed by his sheer bronzed beauty. A telling little flame flickered into life low down.

  Then he tilted his chin down again and she dragged her eyes from him, feeling shaken inside and momentarily defenceless against these surges of attraction she kept on experiencing.

  ‘They’re going to slap a no-fly zone over the D’Lassio estate for the evening to stop the uninvited press from flying overhead,’ he was telling Lukas, ‘so can you make sure my pilot knows we need to leave to arrive before seven o’clock?’

  With a nod Lukas left them alone on the terrace. Mia fixed her eyes on the garden where an elegant Greek goddess stood gently pouring water from an urn into a circular pond. So tranquil, she thought, when there was nothing tranquil about the man who must have had the pool and the goddess positioned there.

  ‘So, what do you think?’ He came to take the seat beside her, lazed back and stretched out his long legs.

  ‘About the house? You must already know that it’s very beautiful.’

  ‘I purchased it last year from a business acquaintance, who needed some heavy cash fast,’ he imparted casually. ‘The idea was to sell it on but the current housing market made me decide to hang on to it for a while.’

  ‘That explains it, then,’ Mia murmured.

  He turned his head to look at her. ‘Explains what?’

  ‘Did Lukas come with the house?’ she responded with a question of her own.

  ‘Yes,’ he confirmed, and she nodded her head.

  ‘The decor and the furnishings?’

  His eyes started to narrow, and Mia felt that needling spark of electricity filter into the air. She had to moisten her lips with the tip of her tongue before she could go on. ‘Your—stamp is not visible here.’

  ‘Stamp,’ he prompted.

  ‘This is a—how do you say it…quintessential—? Sí, this is a quintessential model of an Englishman’s country home.’

  ‘What do you know about quintessential Englishmen?’ Nikos laughed. ‘You’re a Tuscan farm girl with a donkey called Tulio for a best friend.’

  ‘I have half-English blood,’ Mia defended that comment.

  ‘For all you know I might have half-English blood too,’ Nikos tossed back.

  Widening her blue eyes, she asked, ‘Do you—?’

  ‘No,’ he conceded. ‘But you couldn’t know that. You’re making assumptions about me without being in possession of all the facts. That’s dangerous around me, cara.’

  And Mia knew he was right. Then again, everything felt as if it had a dangerous element to it since she’d woken up this morning.

  And when she could not manage to break eye contact with him, Mia knew it was getting worse.

  Chapter Six

  MIA turned to look at herself in the full-length mirror and felt the now almost-permanent quiver going on low in her stomach quicken like mad.

  The dress had once belonged to Bella. She’d spent half the morning shortening the long flow of its near-sheer iced-blue silk skirt. But it was the rest of the dress that made her senses quicken. The strapless style of the bodice draped lovingly around the thrusting shape of her breasts, then went on to hug each slender curve of her body with band after band of exquisitely intricate pleating all the way down to her thighs before the sheer silk flowed to her feet, elevated by the daintiest pair of crystal-studded high-heeled mules.

  ‘Oh, my,’ she breathed, stealing the expression Sophie had used on the phone that morning because it suddenly made a whole lot of sense.

  Sparkling crystal droplets danced amongst the tight pleating, accentuating the shape of her body when she moved or even as she breathed. She’d coiled her hair into a loose pleat at her nape and her skin glowed smooth gold against the pale blue of the gown. A fabulous teardrop diamond necklace, given to her by Oscar, rested on its fine gold chain just above the sloping fullness of her breasts, and matching earrings sparkled at her ears. She had hoped to look elegant and sleek and sophisticated but what she’d seemed to have achieved was—alluringly sensual. She even felt sensual, in places she did not dare think about in case she made herself blush.

  But she was chewing on her rose-coloured lip gloss and frowning uncertainly because she was just discovering that it was one thing to imagine herself dressing like this to impress a certain man, but it was quite a different sensation to realise she was seriously shocking herself.

  Nikos was standing in the hall talking into his mobile phone when Mia appeared at the top of the staircase. As he glanced up and caught sight of her, the deep base tones of his voice stopped midsentence and he froze, his dark eyes flaring momentarily before he hooded them over with his long eyelashes, his gaze running in a slow sweep that allowed him to take in every sleek curvaceous inch.

  Theos, I’m in trouble, was the only thought he was able to register as a familiar heat flared low in his groin and somehow managed to mess with his breathing at the same time.

  Then he became aware that he still held his phone to his ear and he turned his back on her while he finished the call and, at the same time, grabbed a tight mental grip on his rampaging libido.

  This weekend is about work, he reminded himself.

  Yeah, tell that to the kiss you can still taste.

  Just watchi
ng the way he’d shut down his expression and how his strong jaw had clenched before he turned away was enough to tighten the knot of anxiety toying with Mia’s stomach. He’d done it again, and beaten her up with his silent criticism. She didn’t know whether to get angry or to weep.

  She’d reached the last step before he turned around again, wearing his cool urban face. ‘My apologies,’ he said. ‘Something urgent Petros needed to discuss with me before we left.’

  He was walking towards her as he spoke, the absolute epitome of gorgeous handsome man about town in a formal dinner suit again.

  ‘You look fabulous,’ he delivered lightly. ‘Love the dress.’

  Mia managed a small tense smile in response.

  ‘Do you have no coat, a shawl or something?’

  Offering a shake of her head, she answered, ‘The evening is quite warm.’

  In truth, she had forgotten to bring anything like a shawl with her, but she was not going to admit that to this man who was floating a final glance over her before he gave a curt nod of his sleek dark head.

  ‘Let’s get going, then.’

  Brisk, businesslike, firing on all pistons, Mia described as she walked beside him towards the front door. He did not need to say it out loud to remind her that this was all about work. Networking the social scene while pretending to enjoy themselves. Putting the Theakis name out there where it would be remembered, and remembering people he thought might be useful to him at some future date.

  She wanted to ask him if she got paid overtime rates, but decided against setting the evening with a sarcasm that was bound to annoy him.

  As they circled down over the D’Lassio estate, Mia was genuinely stunned by its palatial splendour, even with Balfour Manor to use for comparison. Balfour was built on more traditional lines with the patina of age to soften its sturdy grey stone walls, whereas this house was designed to look more like a Roman villa with a central courtyard and formal gardens fanning out from three sides of the house. The front of the house was mainly rolling green parkland split by a long sweeping drive. A makeshift car park to one side of the drive was already glinting due to the dying sun on the lines of cars.