A Consequence Made in Greece

by Annie West

  Cora nodded. ‘I’m not likely to forget.’ How often was a woman, particularly an ordinary working woman, propositioned in such spectacular fashion? She was no femme fatale.

  Yet she didn’t see that familiar speculative gleam in his eyes. The glint of sexual interest and invitation she’d associated with him from the first. He looked genuinely concerned she’d mistake him for someone benevolent.

  Her mouth twitched.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ He looked wary and that made her smile broaden.

  ‘You. Worried I might mistake you for a good guy.’

  He wasn’t. He really, really wasn’t.

  His actions were prompted wholly by self-interest.

  Yet he was upfront about it. He wasn’t deceitful. Cora could cope with Strato’s sort of selfishness. As long as she didn’t fall into the trap of believing there was more to his actions than an attempt to get his own way.

  ‘That’s not the way I’m usually described.’ His mouth rucked up at the corner in that almost-smile that had fascinated her from the first. She felt her breath slow and made herself look away.

  ‘I can imagine.’ She’d read the headlines.

  ‘Would you be sorry to lose the hotel? If it weren’t for your father?’

  Cora shrugged. ‘I can’t imagine it not being part of my life. My earliest memories are there.’ It had seemed a golden place when her mother was alive. Then, when it was just her and her father, they’d been a tight-knit unit, drawing on each other for strength as they fought grief and found a way to go on. ‘It’s been in the family for generations and it’s a special place. We have guests who come back year after year.’ Though fewer this year, due to circumstances beyond their control.

  ‘Do you want to run a hotel?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m used to it but, no, it’s not my dream. Unless I could install a manager and spend most of my time working on a marine project.’ She shifted in her seat. ‘Sadly funding for marine research isn’t easy to come by.’ Which was why she’d done a stint working on a yacht. ‘Especially not near our island.’

  ‘So it’s your father keeping you there.’

  Cora slanted a look at Strato, surprised at his curiosity. Was he, like Adrian, feigning interest to make it easier to get her into bed? Yet that wasn’t the vibe she got from the big man sitting there so relaxed, twisting his glass on the table.

  ‘He isn’t forcing me to stay. I want to. He’s my father and I love him.’

  The light changed. At least she assumed it was that, because for a second Strato’s face darkened, turned stark and brooding. But a moment later the impression was gone and he looked just the same.

  ‘How about you, Strato?’ She felt hyper-conscious of his name on her tongue. ‘Are you sentimental about your family home?’

  ‘No.’ The answer came swiftly. ‘I don’t have a family home.’

  ‘Really? There’s nowhere special you feel attached—’

  ‘Nowhere. No family home, no family. And I’m not sentimental.’

  Cora heard the warning note and stiffened. Gone was the companionable man she’d begun to relax with. Gone the easy conversationalist. His tone was as welcoming as a Trespassers will be shot sign and his features set hard.

  * * *

  Strato saw her double take, that instant of shock when she read the grimness he couldn’t hide, and silently cursed.

  He was used to deflecting interest in his personal life, and particularly the past, with ease. A casually dismissive comment, a change of subject and it was done. Tonight for the first time he could remember, that skill eluded him.

  Because Cora touched a part of him that no one else did? Because he’d felt a flicker of jealousy over her relationship with her father and her obviously happy family life?

  Strato dismissed the notion. His past was dead and buried. He didn’t yearn for family. Instead the thought sent a glacial chill through him.

  But he saw Cora’s recoil and regretted his curt tone. A moment before she’d been relaxed and happy to share.

  Pushing aside instinctive distaste, for he never spoke of this, he said, ‘I was orphaned.’ The words stuck like shards of glass in his throat.

  Cora’s tight features softened. ‘I’m sorry. That must have been dreadfully hard.’

  He made himself shrug, as if his neck and shoulders hadn’t seized up. ‘I was lucky enough to be adopted.’ He paused and repeated, ‘I was very lucky.’

  It was what he’d told himself over and over. What others had said in those early days. Somehow, though, he’d never believed it.

  ‘So you were happy with your adoptive parents?’

  Another question he never answered in public. Not because his aunt and uncle had been anything other than kind, decent people, but because talk of family screwed him up.

  ‘They cared.’ He swallowed a mouthful of wine. ‘They gave me stability and safety.’ But no matter how hard his aunt in particular tried, they couldn’t replace what he’d lost. ‘My adoptive father took me into his business straight from school and taught me everything he knew. When he died I inherited the company and built it into what I have now.’

  * * *

  Cora watched a smile that wasn’t really a smile stretch his features and felt the hairs rise on her nape.

  Something was wrong. Something that turned this sexy, self-assured man into a shadow of himself.

  It lasted bare seconds. He caught her gaze on him and sat straighter, his expression shifting into something approximating amusement.

  At her or himself?

  ‘Sorry. I don’t talk about the past much. I prefer to focus on the present. And prospects for the future.’ His intimate smile told her he was thinking of his goal of persuading her into sex.

  Yet the blankness in his eyes belied that inviting smile.

  She nodded, knowing it was time to change the subject. ‘I understand that. So, are you going to tell me how you turned your adoptive father’s medium-sized transport company into a global corporation?’

  If she’d expected eagerness, she didn’t get it. It seemed Strato wasn’t the sort of man who needed to broadcast his success. Why would he? His wealth spoke for itself. Nevertheless, his body language changed as he refilled her glass and started talking, briefly outlining his strategies and successes and sharing some amusing anecdotes.

  Even as she smiled and responded, fascinated by the different world he described, Cora’s thoughts returned to the brief but real emotion she’d seen. The grim darkness that had engulfed him.

  It had made her want to reach out to him. Not because Strato was the most attractive, charismatic man she’d ever met, but because for an instant she’d seen something that made her want to comfort him.

  She couldn’t shift the idea she’d had a glimpse of the man behind the headlines. A man who kept himself hidden.

  Who was Strato Doukas? She could no longer put him in a box and label him as simply a shallow party animal. That was one side of his character. Maybe one he played up?

  Or was she projecting because she wanted him to be more? Because the man she’d seen this evening was one she liked too much. One who intrigued her.

  Strato confused her. She wanted to understand him—the man who thought he could bribe her into bed!

  The trouble was, the longer they were together, the more she realised the idea wasn’t as outrageous as she’d told herself. It was actually...tempting.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CORA LOWERED THE anchor of the small tender and turned on her bench seat to find Strato pulling out the snorkels. He hauled off his T-shirt, leaving her with a view of his tanned chest and sculpted torso. Of the slight fuzz of dark hair that accentuated the shape of his powerful pectorals. Of the way his lean, muscled form tapered to a flat belly and narrow hips.

  She was so aware of him. Felt it like an elect
ric charge humming from her fingertips to her toes.

  That hadn’t changed, despite discovering last night that he was more complex and intriguing than she’d first imagined.

  Despite the fact that, all morning, as they cruised past a scatter of islands, Strato had kept his distance, allowing her space. When they were together he’d chatted without any hint of sexual interest.

  It was a relief not to be pestered.

  Yes, a relief!

  She was not disappointed to be virtually ignored after she’d spent the whole night thinking of him.

  Of him and her together.

  Besides, Strato didn’t ignore her. He’d been a perfect host. Offering every amenity, yet not fussing around her.

  Not by so much as a sidelong glance or teasing comment had he made her feel uncomfortable.

  She’d done that all by herself.

  After a restless night in her vast bed, imagining how it would be to share it with him, Cora was strung too tight.

  ‘You’ve changed your mind about swimming?’ His voice cut through her thoughts and Cora yanked her gaze up from where it had stuck on his dark swim shorts and powerful thighs.

  Heat warmed her cheeks. She’d been caught staring.

  Yet when her eyes met Strato’s his expression didn’t register anything but mild curiosity.

  No doubt lots of women checked out his body.

  All the time.

  Cora gritted her molars and told herself she’d have to do better if she were to maintain a pretence of not wanting him.

  ‘No. I haven’t changed my mind.’

  She undid her shorts and rose a fraction off the seat to pull them down. Then she shucked off her deck shoes, placing them with her neatly folded shorts.

  The sooner they were in the water, and she had something to concentrate on other than this man who could have modelled for a Greek god, the better.

  Gripping the bottom of her T-shirt, she yanked it up and over her head and folded it, leaning down to place it with the rest of her clothes.

  ‘You play dirty, Cora.’ Strato’s voice was low and a little rough, making her think of gravel and suede. At the sound of it her body softened as if caressed.

  ‘Sorry?’ She looked up to find him watching her.

  This time, his gaze raked from the top of her scalp down to her soles and back up again, lingering along the way before rising to focus on her face.

  ‘I promised our affair would go at your pace, but then you wear a swimsuit with a front-opening zip. A long front-opening zip.’ Strato shook his head, his expression mournful but his eyes hot. ‘Underhand tactics, Cora, very underhand.’

  She told herself she did not feel adrenaline pump through her blood at that look. As for the thrill tickling its way along her spine and down between her legs, making her shift on the seat...

  ‘I’m sure you’re used to seeing women wearing much less than this. It’s a perfectly respectable one-piece.’

  Because when she’d flung in clothes for this trip she’d avoided packing a bikini. She’d grabbed two one-piece swimsuits instead, telling herself she’d give Strato no encouragement.

  He leaned back on his hands in a move that spread his shoulders and bare chest and made Cora swallow convulsively. He really was superbly made.

  Just as well he didn’t know she’d spent the night fantasising about him.

  ‘True. But didn’t you know there’s a delightful piquancy about what’s hidden from view? Topless string bikinis leave nothing to the imagination and I’ve lost my taste for the obvious.’

  His voice dropped to a bass rumble that made Cora shiver. Not with fear but something like anticipation.

  That tickle between her thighs strengthened, teasing, and it took real effort not to twitch where she sat. Because after a morning of treating her like a sister or elderly aunt, Strato was suddenly looking at her with blatant sexual appreciation. His nostrils flared as if scenting her arousal. The skin across his cheekbones tightened and those remarkable eyes looked slumbrous and secretive. Inviting.

  Cora shook her head, making her tone as disapproving as she could. ‘It’s got a high neckline. It needs the zip for access.’

  A slow smile began at the corner of his mouth then travelled across his face. ‘Precisely. It’s designed to tempt a man into reaching out and tugging that silver loop down...’ His gaze dropped from the base of her throat to her breasts and slowly, infinitely slowly, to the spot low on her abdomen where the zip ended.

  Cora searched for a dismissive response but her throat had dried. She felt her nipples bead and thrust towards him and hoped the black fabric would hide the sight.

  ‘It makes me think...’ his eyes locked on hers and lightning sheeted through her out of the clear sky ‘...you wore this to tempt me.’

  She swallowed. There was an element of truth in that. She’d pulled out both swimsuits this morning, taken one look at the brown with its traditional style and dull colour and couldn’t bring herself to put it on. Because the black with the high-cut legs, the sharp angle in towards her neck that left her shoulders completely bare, and its long zip, made her feel feminine and powerful. Sexy.

  She’d told herself she didn’t want to attract his attention but at the first chance she’d dressed to catch his eye.

  What did that say about her determination to keep her distance?

  She liked it when Strato looked at her with that smouldering stare.

  She liked feeling desirable.

  Cora had warned herself not to weaken when he tried to seduce her. She hated the idea of being manipulated. Yet this wasn’t him seducing or manipulating but her demanding his attention.

  Pride and common sense told her not to fall for his practised charms because all he offered was shallow physical passion. But the rest of her clamoured that physical passion with Strato would do her fine, thank you very much!

  She’d been sensible so long, guarding her heart. At least with him there was no pretence of hearts being involved. It was about lust and for the first time in her life Cora discovered how phenomenally powerful that could be.

  Powerful and attractive.

  Her whole body seemed to throb in time with her quickening pulse. Stoically she ignored it.

  ‘I dress to please myself, Strato.’ That was true. Seeing the rampant appreciation in his eyes made her feel wonderful. Even if it was wonderful tinged with danger. ‘But if you’d rather not swim with me—’

  His raised palm stopped her. ‘On the contrary. I’m looking forward to it very much.’

  He passed her a mask and snorkel and she took them, carefully not touching his fingers.

  Did he notice? She feared Strato noticed most things. Cora was only too ready to get into the water and away from this conversation. She primmed her mouth and went through the usual safety checklist with him.

  For, despite his seduction scheme, ostensibly she was here because of her marine expertise, helping him explore an area he didn’t know. It salved her pride to think she was different from the other women he took on his yacht. More than simply someone to flirt with.

  ‘Remember, stay close,’ she concluded. ‘Don’t go into one of the sea caves alone.’

  The sea was calm today but accidents happened and she was the expert. If she didn’t know where he was...

  ‘Don’t worry, Coritsa. I intend to stick to you like glue.’ His face was grave but the gleam in his eyes made her breath catch and her knees wobble.

  * * *

  Cora grinned as she hauled herself up onto the sun-warmed rock above the tiny, secluded inlet. What a brilliant afternoon. She rolled her shoulders, filled with that good feeling of muscles well used, and bent to scoop up a towel.

  ‘That was fantastic!’ Strato’s voice made her turn in time to see him hoist himself up out of the water and onto the broad rock platform i
n a demonstration of upper-body strength that she envied.

  The sight of him, all streamlined strength and toned masculinity, was enough to dry a woman’s throat. Even one who hadn’t been immersed in salt water for hours.

  His eyes snared hers, black eyelashes spiked around bright green eyes, and the blaze of exhilaration she saw there stole her breath. Water dripped from his hair, running down his features and his broad chest and for an insane moment she wanted to plaster herself against him and kiss him, trying to absorb some of that vitality, that charge of energy that radiated from him.

  Instead she tossed the towel to him and bent to get another for herself before he guessed her thoughts.

  Because in that second of connection she’d read no sexual intent in Strato’s expression. Only the pleasure of someone delighted with what they’d experienced.

  As she’d been moments ago. Despite their conversation in the boat, she and Strato had spent a companionable couple of hours exploring sea caves, secret bays and even a sunken wreck. They’d seen more varied sea life than she’d expected and, instead of her amateur companion flagging from exertion and wanting to return to his luxury cruiser, Strato had been as eager as she to investigate further.

  It had been fun, far more than she’d anticipated. There’d been no awkwardness or accidentally-on-purpose attempts to crowd her. Nothing sexual.

  Not until she turned to see him beside her on the flat rock where they’d left their supplies. Sexual awareness had hit with all the finesse of a tsunami.

  She rubbed her fluffy towel briskly over her face, then concentrated on her hair, the bane of her life.

  ‘It must take ages.’

  ‘Sorry?’ She looked up from where she was bent over, rubbing her long tresses.

  Strato nodded at her hair. ‘It must take a long time to dry.’

  Cora nodded and straightened, pushing her wet hair behind her shoulders and drying her arms. ‘It does. It’s a nuisance.’

  ‘But beautiful.’ He turned away, leaving her to deal with the silly jolt to her pulse at the compliment. As if she’d never received one before. ‘If it’s a nuisance, why not cut it?’