A Consequence Made in Greece

by Annie West

  Strato suppressed a smile. She was supple as well as strong and he appreciated both.

  He was always cautious with lovers, given his superior size and power. Yet Cora met him as an equal, revelling in the male strength he always sought to harness. Her size, taller and more robust than most women, though far smaller than him, made it feel as if she were designed specifically to please him, or he her.

  That was why sex felt so good. They...matched.

  Strato made an executive decision not to pursue that thought further.

  Because the implications might make him uncomfortable and he had more pressing concerns.

  He slipped his hand into his pocket and found the condom he’d put there. These days he had them on him at all times. Cora tempted him even in the most prosaic of places, including yesterday on the floor of his walk-in wardrobe.

  He’d followed her in there to grab a fresh T-shirt and had accidentally brushed against her, inhaling that intriguing scent of hot, honeyed woman. Abruptly hunger had consumed him. Consumed them. They hadn’t made it as far as his bed, mere metres away. Their coupling had been hard and furious, then slow and sweet. Thinking of it made his groin ache and tighten.

  ‘Where are you going to start?’ He slung his towel over his shoulder as he approached.

  Cora shot him a sideways glance then slowly straightened. When she stood she barely had to tilt her chin to meet his eyes and Strato liked that. He was sick of bending double to kiss a woman.

  ‘Maybe some Pilates work.’ She looked around the room. ‘I’m not really into weights.’

  ‘No, not weights. Something more holistic, I think.’ His thoughts raced ahead and so did his pulse.

  ‘You have a suggestion?’ Cora turned, expectation in her expression. Could she read his mind?

  ‘I have. If you’ll put yourself in my hands.’

  Her gaze dipped to his mouth and, remarkably, Strato felt his chest tighten, his throat constricting. Her eyes met his, shimmering golden brown.

  ‘Why not?’ She paused. ‘I’m always happy to take advice from an expert.’

  She moistened her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue and Strato felt as if she’d swiped that moist tongue across him. She’d done that last night, so effectively he’d shattered far too quickly. He shuddered at the erotic memory.

  Sometimes it felt as if she was the experienced one, not he, evoking responses so profound they stunned him.

  Not because Cora used sexual tricks. It was that, with her, none of this felt stale or second-hand. Everything was fresh and...

  Strato sucked in a sharp breath.

  Meaningful was the word that came to mind. But that wasn’t possible.

  There was no hidden meaning here. It was pure sexual chemistry at its best. As he was about to prove.

  ‘Excellent.’ He took Cora’s hand, his fingers brushing her wrist where her pulse thudded fast. ‘Over here.’ He drew her to the window beyond which the blue-green sea extended towards the distant mainland.

  Strato planted her right hand on the large pane of reinforced glass. Her breath hitched as her eyes caught his in a smoky sideways stare that shot heat to his groin.

  ‘Now what?’

  He moved behind her, taking her left hand and planting it on the glass in front of her, then he put his hands on her hips, fingers gripping hard, and tugged her back towards him.

  He heard a sigh. Hers or his?

  ‘Comfortable?’

  She nodded, then shuffled, hips wriggling, till she came up against him. ‘Very.’

  Witch! He heard her breathless laugh and grinned. He slid one hand round her hip and down to cup her mound and instantly she pushed into his touch.

  ‘You like that?’

  She nodded and when she spoke she sounded breathless. ‘You really think this will give me the workout I need?’

  Strato bent forward and nipped the side of her neck. ‘Count on it.’ His other hand moulded her breast, discovering her nipple already peaked hard. It was one of the things he liked about Cora. She was always as eager for him as he was for her.

  She gave another little wriggle of her hips against him and Strato’s patience for this game waned. He tucked both thumbs in the waistband of her shorts and dragged them over lush hips and down till they fell at her feet.

  His gaze fixed on her bare buttocks, perfect as a peach. ‘Now that is naughty,’ he murmured. ‘Not so much as a G-string to preserve your modesty.’ He was already shucking his shorts and tearing the condom wrapper.

  A gurgle of laughter reached him. ‘I didn’t think it was my modesty you were interested in.’

  She’d be surprised. He loved her naked. But he was almost as aroused seeing her buttoned up, or zipped up, in the case of that wickedly tempting swimsuit.

  He slid a palm over the pale globe of her buttock then down between her legs, finally encountering slick folds.

  ‘Aren’t you going to take off my top?’ Her voice sounded stretched and he could relate. He felt as if his groin were caught in a vice, gripping harder and harder.

  ‘Next time,’ he growled as he slid his other hand up her ribcage and under the tight fit of her top. Something like relief engulfed him as her breast filled his hand. That was better. That was what he needed.

  ‘More,’ she demanded, pushing into his hands. ‘Give me more.’

  ‘I’ve created a monster,’ he teased. ‘First you pretend you don’t like me and now you’re insatiable.’

  ‘You like it. You know you do.’

  She was right. Strato couldn’t remember delighting in anything more than being with her.

  Cora didn’t pry or connive for a permanent position in his world. She accepted him as he was. There was no evidence now of hesitation, or of the calculation he’d read in other lovers.

  It was as if she didn’t give a damn for his money.

  Or sense the darkness at the heart of him.

  As if that darkness didn’t exist.

  Strato shivered at the heady illusion.

  It had been a long, long time since he’d experienced anything like it.

  The powerful realisation tempered his hunger with rare tenderness. He bent his head, feathering kisses across her bare shoulder, trying to slow the surge of need building in his loins.

  Her hair tickled him but he couldn’t bring himself to let her go long enough to release it. He loved Cora’s long tresses, soft and enticing, but not as enticing as her almost naked frame, backing up into his groin, hips circling.

  ‘Stop teasing, Strato!’

  He smiled against her skin. This feisty woman really could be imperious. That called to something inside him. As did her sense of humour and her generosity.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure you’re ready...’ He bent his knees and guided himself to her, pausing to give them both a moment to anticipate what was to come. Then with one long, sure thrust he went deep, embedding himself. Her heart pounded beneath his hand and he felt the hot, slick grab of her muscles around him.

  For a second they were still, as if the glory of their union took them both by surprise. As if this wasn’t simply about two aroused bodies seeking ecstasy but two souls finding each other.

  Strato grimaced and let his forehead rest against Cora. He breathed deep and strived for sanity. From the age of eight his life had been firmly rooted in reality. No flights of fancy. No cosy fantasies. No sentiment.

  So when Cora angled her body, pushing back against him, hips circling needily, Strato shoved aside the outlandish thoughts and set about giving her what she wanted.

  First with his hand between her thighs, till she trembled and cried out, her inner muscles convulsively clutching him. Then, when her sighs had died, unleashing his own need, powering fast and hard till the view of sea and sky blurred and exquisite sensation filled him.

  On the
cusp of losing himself, he knew a moment’s hesitation, an atavistic warning that this was something other than simple sex.

  Then it was too late and Strato lost himself in bliss and Cora’s welcoming body.

  Later, when finally they could make their bodies move, he carried her to the spa on his private deck. She slumped in his arms, her head tucked beneath his chin as he stared out at another magnificent new day.

  Occasionally she snuggled closer, nuzzling his throat or shifting her weight on his thighs, and heat drenched him. Not heat from the spa or even residual heat from sex, but something deep in his gut.

  Strato frowned. They had just over a week left together yet he was no nearer being ready to let her go. With any other partner he’d be impatient to end their liaison.

  Why not now?

  ‘That’s what I meant to ask you. You keep distracting me and I keep forgetting.’ Cora moved as if to draw back from him, probably so she could meet his eyes, but he tightened his embrace. He was comfortable like this, enfolding her against him.

  ‘What did you forget?’

  ‘Something my father said.’

  ‘Is there a problem with the hotel bookings?’ According to his information, that had gone smoothly. The boat chartered to take guests from the mainland and back had even become the unofficial public ferry for the island while the government-funded one was repaired.

  ‘No. That’s fine. Everyone’s busier than ever with all these guests. The businesses along the harbour are reporting increased income too.’

  ‘So?’ He slid a finger up her throat and around the back of her ear where she was particularly sensitive and was rewarded with a quiver of response.

  ‘Do you know an organisation called Asteri?’

  Strato stilled. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘The bulk of the bookings are from your company, but my father mentioned someone from a place called Asteri also reserved quite a few rooms.’

  ‘So?’

  Once again Cora shifted as if to look up at him, but he held her where she was.

  ‘I wondered if that’s you too, under a different name.’

  And there he’d been, congratulating himself on the fact that Cora didn’t pry.

  Strato chose his words carefully. ‘I don’t own a company called Asteri.’ He paused, seeking a change of subject to distract her. ‘Surely you and your father are happy to have bookings from a range of places.’

  ‘Oh, we are. And now there’s transport to the island again, we’ve had more private bookings. The season is looking to be our best ever. Thank you, Strato.’ She turned to plant a kiss at his collarbone.

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  He didn’t refer to the fact that was the only reason Cora was here, because he’d presented her with a deal too good to refuse.

  As for the question about Asteri, it wouldn’t be disastrous if she learned about his involvement. Except it was something Strato kept strictly private. Only a very trusted few knew of his links to the organisation.

  Because it was the one thing in his life that he felt strongly about. Even building his uncle’s company into a mega-successful corporation wasn’t as important as Asteri.

  If the press became aware of his involvement, there’d be endless curiosity and possibly someone, finally, would dig up the past he preferred to forget.

  ‘Strato? Are you okay?’ Brandy-coloured eyes held his and it felt, remarkably, as if it wasn’t a throwaway question. It felt as if Cora really was concerned. As if she tried to see deep inside him.

  ‘Never better, Coritsa.’ Deliberately he brushed his hand over her bare breasts and watched her shiver. Yet still her gaze held his.

  The potency of that look, and of his yearning response, hit him like a blow. Almost as if he wanted to share things with Cora that he’d never shared with a soul, not even his well-meaning aunt or the experts who’d probed him.

  His breath jammed and backed up in his cramping lungs.

  He refused to go there. Not ever again. It was unthinkable.

  Which meant something had to change. He’d created a hothouse atmosphere, alone on the yacht with Cora. That was why he was plagued by unfamiliar thoughts about sex becoming something more. And about unburdening himself.

  They needed a distraction. Then Cora wouldn’t have time for curiosity.

  Strato slid his hand past her soft belly to the curls between her legs. She gasped, thighs opening instantly for him, and he smiled his approval.

  He did like this woman. So much.

  But he couldn’t afford to let her upset his well-ordered life or unleash old hurts.

  ‘Remind me to tell you later about the surprise I have for you.’ Then, before she could question him, he took her mouth and seduced her all over again.

  CHAPTER TEN

  CORA INHALED THE scent of sea and flowering geraniums. The latter were a burst of bright red in painted olive-oil tins clustered against the last whitewashed house in the village.

  ‘I like your surprise.’ The tiny harbour and bright fishing vessels, the sunlight dancing off clear water and the joy of walking hand in hand with Strato made a perfect end to the day. ‘I’ve never been here.’

  Strato’s gaze caught hers and heat danced inside. ‘I’m glad to bring you somewhere new. But this is just a stop-off. The surprise is tomorrow—’

  A cry wafted on the late afternoon breeze. A seabird? Cora turned but saw nothing. It was Strato who spotted it, a bundle of colour at the bottom of the steps to the harbour.

  Before Cora had even taken it in, Strato loped across and vaulted off the stone wall.

  When Cora caught up she discovered the bundle was a child. A little boy with huge, overbright eyes and two badly skinned knees, red with blood. Beside him a girl, a little older, scolded him for jumping off the steps. ‘I told you not to. You’re not big enough yet.’ Despite her words, she was clearly upset and Cora guessed both children had had a nasty fright.

  Strato squatted before them, introducing himself and discovering the siblings were Costa and Christina. He was friendly, but matter-of-fact, and Cora sensed his attitude stopped a flood of tears. He asked Costa if he could stand.

  The boy did, but winced with pain.

  ‘I’m all right,’ he said, blinking hard.

  ‘I can see that,’ Strato responded, checking he had no other injuries. ‘But it might be hard climbing the steps.’

  The girl twisted her hands. ‘I’ll have to call Mamma. I said we’d play outside while she fed the baby but—’

  ‘We don’t need to bother your mother yet,’ Strato said as Cora opened her mouth to say the same. They shared a look and again she experienced that sense of connection as if they read each other’s thoughts. It happened more and more frequently.

  ‘We could help you up the stairs,’ she said. ‘I’m Cora and my friend Strato is very strong. He could carry Costa.’

  ‘I’m not a baby!’ That dried the boy’s tears.

  ‘Of course not,’ Strato said, ‘but it’s sensible to accept help when you need it. Cora and I are going to buy ice cream, if there’s somewhere that sells it.’

  ‘There is.’ Costa looked suddenly eager. ‘I could show you.’

  ‘Costa! We can’t. Mamma—’

  ‘Maybe,’ Strato said, ‘you could ask your mother if it’s all right. If you show us the way, I’d be grateful. Perhaps you’d both like ice cream as a thank you?’

  Minutes later, after Christina had dashed into the house with the geraniums and checked with her mother, the four proceeded to the village store. Christina walked beside Cora, asking where they came from and whether they liked the island. Costa, on Strato’s shoulders, grinned and shouted all the things he could see from so high.

  By the time they settled down with their ice creams, Costa allowed Strato, rather than Cora, to tend to his scrapes
and both children chattered about their island, the fine church, the huge underground cavern and the bay where legend said a local boy once rode dolphins.

  The interlude revealed a new side to Strato. His patience and good humour with the children intrigued Cora. But she’d already known he wasn’t just the careless playboy he made out. He’d shown genuine concern and an appreciation not only of Costa’s pride, but of Christina’s need to check in with her mother for permission. His patience, thoughtfulness and unflappable attitude were typical of the man she’d begun to know.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ Strato asked as they walked alone to the tender that would take them to his vessel.

  ‘You with those children. I never imagined you with kids.’

  His smile stiffened. ‘You imagined right. I don’t intend to have any.’

  There it was again, that blare of warning. The same as when he’d said he’d never settle down with a family.

  ‘But you understand them. You’re used to being around kids.’

  ‘Not at all.’ When he read her curious look, he sighed and finally added, ‘I had siblings, one older and one younger. I remember what it was like, being with them.’

  His voice dipped and Cora felt the gravity of his words. That was when they sank in.

  He’d had siblings. Past tense.

  Her pulse throbbed. The articles she’d read implied he was an only child. Had they died before or after he was adopted?

  She couldn’t ask. Not when it was clear he didn’t want to discuss it.

  Silently Cora tucked her hand in his. She felt privileged he’d shared so much when she knew he disliked talking about his past. Maybe one day he’d share more. The fact he’d told her this was surely proof of their growing trust.

  But though she didn’t ask, her thoughts raced. Was that why he didn’t want a family? Because he’d experienced loss early in life? Was he scared to love and lose again?

  Where Strato was concerned, her curiosity was boundless.

  * * *

  Cora had approached Athens by sea multiple times. Usually by ferry or occasionally a research vessel. This time, instead of landing at the public dock, she was at a private marina of luxury boats.