My Greek Island Fling

by Nina Harrington

  ‘You live in your office building?’ she replied, realising even as she spoke that her voice was stinging with criticism.

  A low snort came from the other lounger, but when he spoke Mark’s voice was clear and honest, rather than embarrassed or apologetic for living above the shop. ‘It suits me very well. I’m single and busy. And the views across the city are pretty spectacular from my balcony. But the stars? Ah. Not so spectacular.’

  Lexi exhaled slowly. ‘It must be wonderful to have this house to come back to any time you want and look at the night sky. You do know that this is every writer’s dream? A quiet rural retreat where they can focus on simply being creative. It’s magical.’

  The silence seemed even more intense and Lexi squeezed her eyes closed. Why had she said that? Stupid girl. He might think she was angling for an invitation. Or more.

  ‘That’s the problem,’ he replied in a very quiet voice. ‘It is magical, but most of the year the place stays empty and the only people who benefit are the cats and my housekeeper. We’re always so very, very busy. Always so much to do just to stand still.’

  The sadness in his voice pierced Lexi’s gentle heart.

  She hadn’t expected to like him or care about him, but she did. More than was good for her. She knew now that his family life wasn’t perfect and happy after all, and she was sorry for that. So much loss and pain changed people, and not always for the better. But Mark? Mark still had that spark, even if it was hidden deep inside.

  And the thought that he might lose that spark sent a shiver down her back. She quivered and rubbed her arms.

  ‘Feeling cold?’ he asked.

  ‘A little,’ she replied. ‘Probably time for me to head back inside.’

  She heard a low grunt and a shuffle as Mark swung himself off his lounger and took the two steps towards her. Before she had a chance to speak he had taken both her hands in his and was lifting her to her feet.

  ‘We stargazers have to stick together,’ he murmured, pressing his body against the length of her back with his arms around her waist. A delicious glow of warmth and strength filled Lexi’s body and she instinctively leant back to enjoy the heat from his closeness.

  Mark raised one arm and pointed to a bright star on the horizon below the new moon. ‘I used to read all those exciting comics about mysterious invaders from Venus or Mars. Scared myself silly. I suspect that’s why my dad bought me the telescope. So that hard science could replace dreams and fantasy stories about aliens and spaceships.’

  ‘And what about your mum? What did she say?’ Lexi struggled to keep her voice steady in the face of this sudden intimacy.

  ‘Oh, she kept bringing me the comics. Keeping my mind open to every option. I loved her for that.’

  ‘She must have been quite remarkable,’ Lexi whispered into the night.

  ‘Yes. Yes, she was.’ He paused before going on. ‘Thanks for talking me into carrying on with her biography. I think it’s going to be a grand celebration.’

  Lexi lowered her head and turned around so that she was facing Mark.

  ‘You’re most welcome. Good night. I hope you sleep well.’

  She touched her cool fingers to either side of his face, and brushed her lips against his in a light kiss which was just a tiny bit longer than the one he had given her at the viewpoint. His lips were warm and full and inviting, and she hesitated for just a moment in the darkness before moving away.

  Mark seemed to freeze. Then he took hold of her shoulders, pulled her tight into his body, stepped forward until her back was resting against the wall of the house, cushioned by his arm, so that when he kissed her, her pliant body had somewhere to go.

  This was nothing like that first hesitant kiss in the sunshine. This was the kiss of a man determined to drive logical thought from her mind as he pressed harder, exploring her tongue and lips while taking the weight of her body in his muscular arms.

  Her hands moved up from his shoulders and into his hair, which was as wonderful and sensual as she had imagined.

  But she had broken the spell by moving. And he eased back, drawing her on wobbly legs away from the wall.

  She hung on to him, her head against his chest until her breathing calmed, then looked up into his smiling face. His thumb brushed against her lower lip, sending tingles to places she really did not want to be tingling.

  ‘You are really quite irresistible. Do you know that?’ he whispered.

  She managed a nod. ‘You, too.’

  He stifled a grin. ‘But probably not a good idea. All things considered.’

  Then he tapped her on the nose. ‘It won’t happen again. Good night, Lexi. Sleep well.’

  She watched him stroll into the house. Sleep? After that kiss? Was he kidding?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘YOU bought me shoes?’ Lexi stared at Mark open-mouthed, dangling the plain tan-leather flat sandals from one finger so that she could ogle them from every angle.

  He winced, and nodded his head towards the local shop only a few feet away from the waterside restaurant where they were sitting.

  ‘If you really hate them I won’t be in the least offended. Take them back for an exchange. But the range is rather limited compared to what you’re used to.’

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. ‘Hate them? What are you talking about?’ She leaned forward over the remains of their lunch of kebab, Greek salad and hot grilled herb pitta. ‘You’re the first man ever to buy me shoes. This is an historic occasion. They’re even the right size. I am amazingly, stunningly speechless. And I have no intention of taking them back. I may even wear them. How about that?’

  He raised his water glass to her in tribute. ‘The cats and I thank you for your understanding. I had a stern word with both kittens and they promise never to pee on your shoes again.’ He played with a piece of bread before asking, in the most seductive voice Lexi had ever heard in her life, ‘Do you really like them?’

  ‘They are totally awesome sauce,’ she murmured across the table in an equally low voice. ‘Yes. I like them.’

  She sat back under the sun umbrella and sipped her wine as she looked around at the harbour and the line of yachts moored in the marina in the warm bright sunshine.

  ‘I must say, Mr Belmont, that you treat your lady guests remarkably well. A waterfront location only feet from the Mediterranean, a delicious meal, splendid local white wine–and shoes. I am impressed.’

  ‘Thanks. I thought it was only appropriate since I have a pre-published children’s author with me—that, and the small fact that we’ve been slaving away in that stuffy study for two days and hardly coming up for air.’

  She looked at Mark over her glass.

  Slaving was one way of putting it.

  The constant struggle to avoid touching his body as they negotiated around each other in the small space had driven her mad with frustration.

  Sometimes she could almost feel the tension between them.

  But he had kept his word and not made any moves on her. And she was grateful … wasn’t she? She couldn’t give in to the feelings. That would mean trouble for both of them and would only end in heartbreak. She had to hold it together and fight temptation for a few more days. Just. A. Few. More. Days.

  In the meantime she could enjoy his company. Memories of meals like this were going to have to sustain her on many a lonely night in a foreign hotel for a long time to come.

  ‘It’s been worth it, Mark. The book is shaping up really well, and the work we were doing this morning on your village school was lovely.’ Lexi clinked her wine glass against his water beaker in a toast. ‘To team work.’

  ‘I’ll drink to that. Speaking of which, I have a mission to accomplish—and you are the ideal person to advise me.’

  ‘Ah,’ Lexi replied, rubbing her hands together. ‘Business or personal?’

  ‘Personal. I have to buy a present for my nephew Freddie before I head back. Two years old and already interested in everything animal-related. I was think
ing of a soft toy, but he has a room full of those already. Any ideas?’

  Lexi rested her arms on the table and chuckled. ‘I am no expert on toddlers. But tell me what sort of things he likes to do. What kind of games does he enjoy?’

  Mark’s face instantly relaxed into an expression of pure delight. ‘Here. This might help. They are both total scamps, but you have to admit they’re adorable.’

  He dived into his trouser pocket and pulled out a state-of-the-art smartphone which made Lexi drool with envy. His fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard and a few seconds later he scooted his chair closer to hers so that she could watch the surprisingly clear images come alive on the small screen.

  His body was pressed tight against hers all along one side of her capri pants and sleeveless top, and at another time and another place she would have called it a cuddle. He was so close that she could feel the golden hairs on his tanned arms against her bare skin, the heat of his breath on her neck, and the smell of his expensive designer cologne filled her head.

  The overall effect was so giddying that it took her a moment to realise that he was looking at the phone rather than her, and she forced her eyes to focus on the video playing on the screen.

  It was Mark. Playing with two of the cutest little boys on a sandy beach. They were making sandcastles and Mark, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, was helping the youngest to tap the sand into his bucket with great gusto while his brother danced around with a long piece of seaweed. All three of them were laughing their heads off, and seemed to be singing silly, glorious nursery rhymes. Pure childish joy and delight beamed out from the brightly coloured images in front of her. They looked so happy.

  Mark with his nephews. Caught in the moment. Living. Showing his love in every single laugh and smile and hug.

  She glanced up at this man whose face was only inches away from hers. He was the real deal. He had taken time out from his international business to go to the beach with his nephews and simply enjoy them.

  Her heart broke all over again.

  Only this time it was not for Mark. It was for herself.

  When had she ever done that? When had she made the effort to spend time with her mother’s soon-to-be step-grandchildren or her friends’ children? Or her neighbours? She hadn’t. She’d chosen a job where the only children she met belonged to her clients—that way she could share their family life second-hand.

  The truth of the life she had created for herself jumped out from that simple holiday video that Mark kept on his phone because he loved those boys so very much and it slapped her across the face. Hard.

  She’d told herself that she wasn’t ready to adopt a child as a single mum, after seeing what her mother had gone through, but the truth was simpler than that.

  She was a fraud. And a liar. And a coward.

  She was too scared to do it alone. Too scared to take the risk.

  And here she was, trying to tell Mark Belmont how to live his life, when he was already way ahead of her in every way. He had chosen to fill his life with real children who loved him right back. Damn right.

  ‘I think the best thing is probably to trawl the shops and throw myself on the mercy of the lovely ladies who work there.’ Mark smiled, totally unaware of the turmoil roiling inside her head and her heart.

  And she looked into those eyes, brimming with contentment and love for those two little boys, and thought how easy it would be just to move a couple of inches closer and kiss him the way he had kissed her under the stars. And keep kissing him to block out the hard reality of her empty life.

  Bad idea. Seriously bad idea.

  She could never give him, or any man, the children he wanted. And nothing she could do was going to change that.

  Suddenly it was all too much. She needed to have some space from Mark. And fast.

  ‘Great idea,’ she gushed. ‘I think I’ll take a walk and meet you back here.’

  Throwing her new sandals into her bag, Lexi stood up and, with one quick wave, took off down the stone wall of the harbour towards the port before Mark had a chance to reply.

  White-painted wooden fishing boats with women’s names lined the harbour between the marina and the commercial port, and Lexi forced herself to try and relax as she sat down on a wooden bench under the shade of a plane tree and looked out across the inlet to the open water between Paxos and Corfu.

  The hydrofoil was moored at the dock and had just started loading passengers. For one split-second Lexi thought about running back to Corfu so she wouldn’t have to face Mark again. All she had to do was buy a ticket and she could be on her way before he even knew she was gone.

  Leaving Mark and his life and Crystal Leighton’s biography and everything that came with it behind her.

  Stupid, self-deluded girl. Lexi sniffed and reached for a tissue.

  Other passengers had started to mill about. A taxi pulled up and a gaggle of suntanned tourists emerged, loaded down with holiday luggage, laughing and happy and enjoying their last few minutes on Paxos. Local people, children, workers, a few businessmen in suits. Just normal people going about their normal business.

  And she had never felt lonelier in her life.

  A stunning sailing yacht with a broad white sail drifted across the inlet on the way into the long safe harbour at Gaios, and Lexi watched as it effortlessly glided through the water.

  She was simply overtired, that was all. Too many sleepless nights and tiring days. She would be fine once this assignment was finished and she was back in London with her mother.

  And what then?

  Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Her mother had found a lovely man who was almost good enough for her. And even better, he had given her the grandchildren—his grandchildren—that she longed for, whom she already worshipped and spoilt terribly.

  So where did that leave Lexi?

  Alone. Directionless. Existing rather than living. Filling her life with frenetic activity and people and places and travel. On the surface it looked exciting—a perfect job for any single girl.

  How had she become the very thing that she despised?

  A parasite, living her life through second-hand experiences, listening to lovely people like Mark talk about their families, sharing their experiences because she was too pathetic and cowardly to have her own love affairs, her own family.

  The people on that boat were free to go where they wanted. Moor up anywhere, take off when they wanted. And she felt trapped. No matter how far she travelled, or whatever she had achieved in her life, she simply could not escape the fact that she was childless and would probably be so for the rest of her life.

  So why had she not done something to change that fact instead of blocking it out? When had she turned her back on her dreams and thrown them into the ‘too hard to deal with’ box?

  She had talked to her mother about giving up full-time work and writing her own stories, but it had always seemed like a dream.

  Well, the time for dreaming was over. She had her own home and could work part-time in London to pay the bills. Surely there was some publisher who’d like to work on her children’s books? It would probably take years to be a financial success, but she could do it. If she was brave enough.

  Couldn’t she?

  Lexi was so distracted by the yacht as it sailed past that when her cell phone rang she picked it up immediately, without even bothering to check the caller identity.

  ‘Lexi? Is that you? Thank goodness. I’m so pleased to have caught up with you.’

  Great. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse. It was the talent agency. Probably checking up on her to make sure that the project was on track.

  ‘You’re not going to believe who we have lined up for your next writing assignment, Lexi. Think America’s favourite grandmother and cookery writer. It’s the most amazing opportunity, but we do need to get you out to Texas on Sunday, so you can interview all of the darling children who are staying at the ranch. Of course it’ll be first class all th
e way and … Lexi? Are you there? Hello?’

  Mark flicked down the prop stand on his scooter, whipped off his crash helmet and looked out across the road towards the hydrofoil, then breathed a huge sigh of relief

  Standing on the edge of the pier, on the harbour wall, was Lexi Sloane.

  And as he watched Lexi drew back her arm and threw her purple telephone with all her might over her head and into the air.

  She simply stood there, panting with exertion and the heat and horror as her precious link to the outside world, her business contacts, her lifeline to business that never left her side, made a graceful arc into the sea.

  It hit the waves with a slight splosh and was gone.

  Well, that was interesting.

  Lexi hardly noticed that someone had come to sit next to her on the bench until he stretched out his legs and she saw the sharp crease on his smart navy trousers, and the black crash helmet cradled on his knee.

  ‘Hi,’ she said.

  ‘Hello,’ Mark replied. ‘I didn’t have much luck in the shops so I thought I’d join you, instead. Much more entertaining.’

  They sat in silence, watching the hydrofoil crew help passengers onto the deck.

  Lexi lifted her head and frowned, as though she had just woken up from a deep sleep.

  ‘Did I just throw my phone into the sea?’

  ‘Yes. I watched you do it from the car park. For a casual overarm technique it made a very nice curve for the few seconds it was airborne. Have you ever thought of playing cricket? Not much of a splash, though.’

  ‘Oh. I was hoping I had imagined that bit. No chance I could get it back, I suppose?’

  ‘Sorry. Your phone is probably covered by about thirty feet of salt water by now.’

  ‘Right. Thirty feet.’

  Mark sidled up to her on the bench. ‘When I take an awkward call I often find it better to wait a few moments before replying. How about you?’

  She shook her head. ‘You see what people do to me? They make my head spin so fast that I throw my phone, that I need for my job and has all my numbers, into the sea.’ She gesticulated towards the open water. ‘There’s probably a law against polluting the Mediterranean with small electrical items. Perhaps you could direct me to the local police station? Because I have to tell you, handing myself in and spending some time in solitary confinement sounds pretty good to me right now.’