by Maya Blake
Perhaps she sensed the shift within him. Whatever. Her eyes widened as he approached her in the plane’s sumptuous lounge and dropped into the seat next to her. ‘I...is there news?’
‘Indeed, there is. The lawyers have secured an injunction hearing first thing on Monday morning. Until then, I have a discreet security team watching that the boy doesn’t come to harm.’
A warm smile curved her lips. His gut tightened and he felt himself growing hard. ‘I’m glad,’ she said. Then her smile wavered. ‘Does that mean...?’
Sunlight broke through the grey clouds just then, bathed her stunning face in light.
And for the first time in his life, Christos accepted that, as his week had gone thus far, maybe the control he’d taken for granted was about to be turned upside down.
Unable to help himself, he trailed a hand down her cheek. ‘Yes, Alexis. It means we’re on our way to Drakonisos.’
CHAPTER FIVE
ALEXIS KNEW THIS trip was different the moment they landed on Drakonisos and spotted the small convoy of vehicles through the window of the plane. Her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of the old man leaning against the first SUV.
With shocking white hair and steely grey eyes, Costas Drakakis stood tall and proud despite the walking stick propped next to his right hip. His olive skin gleamed vibrant under the Greek sun. From where she sat, Alexis could detect no signs of illness or weakness. Certainly nothing that would cause his grandson to commit to spending weeks on end on this island, as idyllic as it was. ‘I thought you said your grandfather was ill?’
It took a moment for Christos to respond, his eyes narrowing at the faintly accusatory note in her voice. ‘One of the first lessons my grandfather taught me as a boy was never to take anything or anyone at face value. He didn’t exempt himself from that assessment and I suggest you don’t either.’
She bit her lip, her gaze swinging back to the unexpected welcome party as the plane finally stopped.
The moment the doors were unlocked and the steps lowered Christos rose, his hand extended to her. ‘Come, Alexis.’
‘If I said I wasn’t ready, would it make any difference?’
The corner of his mouth tilted, but there was very little mirth in his face. ‘The only reason he’d accept our tardiness is if we emerged looking like we’d just had wild sex. Is that the impression you wish to give?’
Heat stung her cheeks and she knew her face was furnace red. ‘Of course not.’
His eyes darkened and those sinful lips twisted. ‘Shame. I find myself in a mood to oblige.’
He was toying with her. Because that layer of tension that’d been evident in his demeanour when he’d spotted his grandfather was still there, perhaps even growing with every moment they delayed.
With very little choice but to remain on this wild roller coaster, Alexis placed her hand in his. And immediately tensed as his fingers closed firmly over hers, giving her no room to escape the electric sizzle that raced up her arm. Caught in a sensual storm, she was all but boneless when he tugged her upright, going willingly into his personal space when he nudged her closer. Then instead of walking her out as she’d expected, he simply stood there, staring down at her.
‘Perhaps I should kiss you, ensure that dreamy look remains in your eyes,’ he mused, his voice a rough rumble that said he was caught in whatever this maelstrom was too.
‘There’s no look...you’re imagining things.’ Her attempt to tug herself out of his hold backfired when he released her, only to slip his hands around her waist, imprisoning her against his lean, muscular body. The heat unravelling through her body intensified.
‘Am I, yineka mou?’
She gave a soft gasp, a reminder of what those two words meant sliding through her hazy brain.
My wife.
He had every right to call her that now they’d returned once more to the location of their agreement.
Alexis swallowed, wondering why the word affected her more now than it ever had before. Love, marriage or emotional entanglements of any kind weren’t on the cards for her. So why let herself imagine what it would be like if this were real? If it weren’t all make-believe?
Strong, demanding fingers slid into her hair, clenching the heavy mass ever so slightly. The barest hint of his power made her hyperaware of the animal ferocity of the man holding her. Of the renewed hunger she’d experienced that night on his sofa roaring to life inside her. The expertise with which he’d delivered pleasure. How much she wanted an authentic repeat performance.
He tugged her head back, exposing her neck as his gaze dropped to her mouth. Spikes of hunger lanced her and she licked her lips.
‘You want it too, don’t you?’ he asked, his voice a low, sexy rasp.
‘Christos...’
‘All you need to do is ask for it,’ he encouraged throatily.
Against her belly, she felt the pressure of his shaft, the sexuality bridled beneath his suit, and the tiniest moan escaped her. Yes, she wanted this. She was human after all. A woman with needs. Needs she’d denied for years.
But with Christos Drakakis? When every single clue pointed to this being a disaster?
‘Don’t overthink it, Alexis.’
The hand she’d braced on his chest unfurled. Searching. Exploring. The quickening tempo of his heartbeat against her fingers made her yearn for skin-to-skin contact. For the pleasure of hearing him just as shaken as she was by their chemistry.
Even if it was pure folly? No. Because Christos wasn’t Adrian. He wasn’t leading her on with clever and manipulative words. He wasn’t leading her on at all. If anything, he’d thrown the ball firmly in her court. And all she wanted, in this moment, was a kiss. Nothing more.
Liar.
His fingers tightened, drawing her attention back to him. To the fevered gaze fixed on her lips. To his lowering head, the brush of his breath on her skin. ‘I want to taste you again, glykia mou. I want to hear that little throaty sound you make when you’re turned on.’
Every atom in her body leapt in giddy excitement, pulling her up onto her tiptoes. Her hand had crept around his neck almost of its own accord and the luxuriant springiness of his hair teased her fingers.
Her gaze swept up, compelled by his. Met and held. Her lips parted, her yes one single breath away—
‘If you weren’t ready to disembark, perhaps you should’ve instructed your pilot to circle the airspace a little while longer.’
The heavily accented rasp of the voice that evoked an image of reckless years spent smoking expensive cigars and drinking ouzo made them spring apart. Or certainly made her attempt to. Christos’s steel-strong arm around her waist and the fingers spiked into her hair prevented her escape.
She turned, a flush creeping up her neck when she saw Costas Drakakis standing ten feet away, walking stick in hand and his eyes fixed firmly on them.
While Alexis burned with embarrassment for being caught in a melodramatic clinch, nothing in Christos’s face betrayed discomfort at being discovered in a compromising position with his executive assistant.
No, not his assistant.
His wife.
Here, now, in this moment, she wasn’t just his trusted employee. She was his wife. As the heavy weight of the priceless diamond and platinum rings on her finger signified.
A wave of icy realisation doused the flames of her arousal as Christos dropped his hand from her hair, his other sliding down her arm to capture her wrist after briefly lingering on the wedding ring.
‘Pappous. We were on our way out. You didn’t have to come up.’
The old man snorted. ‘It didn’t seem that way just now. It was that or burn to a crisp out there waiting for you two.’
Alexis cleared her throat and pasted a smile on her face, even as the cold thought continued to bloom inside her. ‘Costas, it’s lovely to see you again.’
Eyes so much like his grandson’s it was eerie flicked to her. ‘Is it? You could have fooled me by keeping me waiting.’
‘Behave, Pappous,’ Christos chided, his voice wrapped in an undeniable layer of warmth that made her curious about their relationship.
Unlike other families, they didn’t move to hug and exchange exuberant greetings, but a look arced between them for several seconds, as if they spoke their own silent language.
Seconds later, the moment was over. Behind Costas, a tall man dressed in discreet medical scrubs appeared, his eyes on the older man.
Sensing his presence, Costas snorted again. ‘As you can see, my guard dog is at the ready. Be kind and let’s get off this tin can, ne?’
‘Of course. After you,’ Christos invited.
They exited the plane with her hand clasped firmly in his. And while she breathed a sigh of relief when Costas boarded the front vehicle and she and Christos the second, with their luggage loaded onto the third, her nerves were still all over the place as they drove away.
For the first few minutes, she stared out of the window, basking in the stunning vista of Drakonisos under the dappled light of the afternoon sun. As Greek islands went, it was one of the largest privately owned ones. It was named for its dragon-like shape as well as the craggy cliffs that lined the north of the island. Its beautiful underbelly consisted of two jaw-dropping beaches, one on the doorstep of the sprawling villa, and the other in a secluded cove half a mile away. And despite having visited twice, she knew there was far more to explore on the island. But that was a delight for later.
Nerves still jangling and knowing she couldn’t keep the question firing in her brain to herself, she turned to Christos and murmured so the driver couldn’t hear, ‘Did you know he was boarding the plane?’
He shrugged with a carelessness that set her teeth on edge. ‘I suspected he might. My grandfather isn’t known for his patience.’
‘And you didn’t warn me?’
One eyebrow quirked up. ‘So you would do what? Maintain a healthy six feet of space between us? Wasn’t it better that he caught us like that? Your blushing certainly added the perfect touch.’
‘I’m glad all this amuses you.’
‘And I’m glad to see you’re aren’t blowing anything out of proportion. At all,’ he said dryly.
Irritation sparked through her, thankfully blanketing some of the arousal still dancing beneath her skin.
‘Are you hanging on to your annoyance in place of something else?’ he enquired, after another scrutiny of her face.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
He gave a lopsided smile, then inclined his head. ‘Take that road if you must. But for the record, I wasn’t pleased that we were interrupted.’
‘Because it would’ve played further into your hands, of course.’
His smile disappeared. ‘What?’ he bit out.
‘It was all staged for his benefit, wasn’t it?’
A harsh gleam flickered in his eyes. ‘What a cynic you are.’
‘I don’t hear you denying it.’
‘Whether it was or not doesn’t matter. You’re not forgetting your role, are you?’ he asked quietly.
Alexis shot a glance at their driver before flicking her gaze his way. She couldn’t quite settle on his face because she was a little terrified she would give herself away. ‘Of course not.’
If anything, his features hardened, as if her flippant answer didn’t please him. ‘Then what’s the problem, exactly, glykia mou?’
That endearment burrowed inside, seeking a vulnerable place she couldn’t allow it to go. ‘I don’t like being blindsided.’
‘Life isn’t set out in perfect little boxes you can tick off at your leisure, Alexis. You need to be prepared for the odd curveball.’
She stiffened. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘There’s a reason you left your last firm, isn’t there? Things didn’t quite go according to plan?’
Her lungs flattened, her heart striking up a terrible hammering that attacked her ribcage. ‘You know about that?’
He inclined his head with the slightest nod. ‘Ne,’ he responded in his mother tongue, perhaps because they were in his homeland.
‘Why haven’t you asked me before?’
‘Perhaps because I was attempting to be discreet. But now it’s out in the open—’
‘It’s still not up for discussion,’ she responded hurriedly, feeling blindsided.
‘You’re not the only one who doesn’t like surprises. But I didn’t go digging, if that’s what you’re worried about. I find gossip distasteful. I would much prefer to hear about the whole thing from you.’
A small part of her yearned to discover what he knew and how he’d found out, while the rest shied away from knowing. ‘It’s nothing that affects our working relationship.’
‘What about our private one? And before you say we don’t have one, think again.’
She looked out of the window to buy herself some time. The last thing she wanted was to admit to the degrading humiliation of her one failed relationship. To the utterly blind error of judgement she’d made that had nearly cost her everything. Would he trust her judgement if he knew the true details? ‘Can we just chalk it up to a relationship that didn’t work out?’ she eventually managed.
‘That depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On whether it colours all your decisions.’
She snatched in a breath. ‘Do all your relationships colour yours?’
‘Very much so.’
Not the answer she expected, she reflected as she searched his face. Found it, much like many times before, an enigmatic book. But this time, within those grey depths she spotted something. Barely a glimmer but she saw it. Pain. Bitterness.
Right before he blinked and neutralised his expression. She bit her lip, torn between curiosity and reservation.
After several moments, the corners of his lips lifted. ‘Not going to give in to your curiosity?’
She shrugged. ‘Your past private life is your own. Much like mine is my business.’
Before he could respond, the vehicle slowed to a stop.
Alexis stepped out with relief, pulling in a long breath of fresh air in the hope of restoring the few layers of sanity she’d lost since their embrace on the plane.
The villa was set on the highest point of the island to take full advantage of the breathtaking views. Past cypress trees, perfectly pruned hibiscus bushes, bougainvillea hedges and impeccably manicured lawns, the sea glinted like a blanket of gemstones, an endless invitation for a cool reprieve out of the June heat.
From past visits, she knew the beach was less than five minutes away, that the Drakakis yacht and speedboat were moored out of sight around the cove. She’d declined an invitation to waterski with Christos on their last trip but had the stomach-fluttering experience of watching him ski with breathtaking style.
Her belly heating on that recollection, she turned towards him and saw his gaze on the far distant view. Towards the other side of the island, where the terrain was craggier. Shadows flitted through his eyes, his jaw clenching then releasing before he sucked in a long deep breath. A light breeze tossed a lock of hair across his forehead, but Alexis was certain it didn’t register. He was caught in whatever memories made Drakonisos a place he wanted to possess. A place that had prompted a man with cynical views on relationships to enter a marriage of convenience with an employee. As she continued to watch him his features softened and he gave a slow exhale, the kind that came with inner contentment. Perhaps even...peace.
Sensing her regard, he turned to her. ‘Shall we get out of the sun before Costas grumbles at us again?’ he said evenly, but that faraway look in his eyes took another moment to dissipate.
She nodded, a
lthough her senses remained a little askew as she turned towards the villa.
Costas’s home was a sprawling, multi-level whitewashed traditional Greek villa but with every modern amenity conceivable. Despite her previous visits, Alexis’s breath still caught when she stepped onto the smooth terracotta tiles of the wide hallway and looked up at the large rectangular stained-glass windows that let in endless sunlight. That light glinted over light stone-coloured walls, complemented by gold-accented local Cycladic art and white furniture. Several masterpieces were dotted along the vast hallway that led to a large living room, beyond which the terracotta tiles were replicated on a sun-soaked terrace.
That was where Costas had headed and where she and Christos followed to find a long table of refreshments awaiting them. The knots that had barely loosened when she’d stepped out of the plane began to tighten again as Christos’s hand landed in the small of her back.
He led her to the table and drew back a chair for her.
No reprieve, then...
‘We’ll have refreshments while our luggage is unpacked.’
With no option but to accept the invitation, she took a seat and smiled at the older man.
Paxos, one half of the middle-aged married couple in charge of keeping the villa and grounds in pristine condition, stepped forward and poured an ouzo-infused punch Alexis knew could be lethal if not consumed with caution. Then he served delicate pastries and sandwiches, which she helped herself to as Costas conversed in Greek with his grandson.
When a small silence fell at the table, she glanced up.
‘Kalos orises spiti,’ Costas rasped.
‘My grandfather says welcome home.’
The old man’s eyes were fixed on her, reading her every expression, her every interaction with his grandson. While she hadn’t doubted Christos’s emphasis that this trip was different, she’d secretly hoped it was exaggerated. Costas’s laser-focused gaze confirmed Christos’s assessment. This visit was different. She was being analysed. Their relationship was being vetted.
Acutely mindful of that, she forced a smile. ‘Efkharisto,’ she replied.