by Maya Blake
He shrugged. ‘Danger isn’t an issue when you believe you’re invincible. But, yes, the steps spared my grandmother a grey hair or two.’
The fondness in his voice attracted her gaze. ‘Do you miss her?’
Expecting another shrug, she was surprised when he nodded. ‘Very much,’ he said, then slid her a sideways glance. ‘Now you know another interest of mine, in case it comes up.’
She frowned. ‘I’d prefer to get to know you organically, rather than have you list interests like I’m compiling a dossier.’
His gaze turned piercingly keen. ‘You believe I’m not invested in this? Is that your way of saying you require a more intimate knowledge of me?’
Her mouth dried, her heart see-sawing wildly in her chest. ‘That’s not what I said!’
Patrician nostrils flared, his hand rising to drag through his wind-ruffled hair. ‘But perhaps you’re right. Perhaps we should examine this from a different perspective.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ For a moment she was terrified he was about to call the whole thing off. Even more terrified that the feeling didn’t stem from knowing Hope House would suffer. It was purely selfish, born of the need to not be done with this...whatever it was.
But he was speaking. And her breath caught at the words that spilled from his lips.
‘Perhaps it needs full and complete authenticity. It needs for you to be my wife, in more than name only.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS DIRECTLY because of that wild, unfettered leap in her heart that Alexis pivoted and started to walk away. Deep in her bones she knew that she would’ve screamed yes otherwise.
She stumbled to a halt when he wrapped his fingers around her arm. ‘You need time to think about it—’
‘No.’
He waited a beat. Two. Then his eyes narrowed. ‘No?’
‘I don’t need to think about it. The answer is no.’ Her words were firm enough, but she betrayed herself by trembling a moment after they emerged.
‘You’re afraid,’ he observed shrewdly. ‘Why?’
‘Because it’s absurd?’
‘Or because you imagine you can protest this chemistry away?’
She wanted to hate him for hitting the nail on the head. But he’d already seen what she’d tried to hide—that she was attracted to him. Perhaps dangerously so. But the fact that he wanted to act on it didn’t mean she had to give in.
Did it?
No.
‘Today, tomorrow or a month from now, my answer will still be the same,’ she said, glad for the firmness of her voice. Not so much for the dismay and disappointment echoing in her chest. ‘I’m not interested.’
His gaze remained pinned, mildly disbelieving and faintly mocking, on her face. ‘Prove it,’ he taunted after a stretch of time that jangled her every nerve.
Welcome irritation stiffened her spine. ‘I don’t need to prove anything.’
‘Not even to yourself?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘If you’re so confident this is no big deal to you, that you’re not afraid of the power of it, then where’s the harm? Haven’t you wanted to put me in my place a time or two? Perhaps even a little payback for mankind in general?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she snapped, even though a part of her wished she did. Even though a part of her wanted someone to pay for her hurt. ‘I don’t hate all men just because of the crimes of one.’
She knew she’d fallen into his trap the moment the words left her lips.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he said, smiling as if he knew every single chaotic dance unravelling inside her. ‘Here’s your chance, Alexis. Are you going to take it or run away?’
It was the smile that made her see red. That triggered a throw-caution-to-the-wind switch she feared she’d regret later. But in that moment, nothing could’ve stopped her from taking that step. From wrapping one arm around his waist and the other over his nape to urge his head down to hers. Nothing could’ve stemmed the wild need that drove her onto her toes, bringing his tantalising lips within kissing distance.
At the searing contact, she moaned, her senses already clamouring for more.
With that deep grunt she was growing shockingly addicted to, Christos tugged her closer until they were plastered together from chest to thigh.
Their exploration wasn’t tentative. It was a culmination of the dance that had begun in his penthouse and matured in the time in between. Rabid for his taste, she boldly stroked his tongue, then ran hers over his bottom lip, while her nails dug into his warm skin. Pleasure and feminine power exploded through her as she felt his erection swell. And when his hand cupped one breast, teasing her nipple, Alexis cried out.
He swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss for another minute before, forced apart by the need for oxygen, his lips trailed to her jaw and neck, tonguing her pulse before trailing hot kisses onto her collarbone.
She hazily grew aware of her spaghetti strap being lowered, of the cool breeze washing over her chest. Then his mouth was covering one nipple, drawing the needy peak into his mouth.
‘Christos!’
‘Hmm,’ he growled against her flesh after an age of tormenting her. ‘You respond so beautifully,’ he said, right before he delivered the same exquisite torture to its twin.
Alexis buried her fingers in his hair, every sense tuned into the magic he was weaving, to the cavernous need demanding satiation. Dear God, this was madness. But not one she wanted to stop. Not in that moment.
‘Please,’ she found herself whimpering, against every shred of common sense she possessed. Straining for more even as the weight of her need terrified her.
‘Yes,’ he groaned, laving her expertly for another minute before lifting his head.
For the longest minute, they stared at one another, their breathing choppy. Alexis blushed when he slowly drew up her straps, the sensual glide of his tongue across his lower lip almost making her moan out loud. ‘Now tell me this is a bad idea,’ he rasped, the wash of colour across his sharp cheekbones making him even more alluring. His eyes blazed with an arousal he did nothing to hide and even the steady rise and fall of his chest was mesmerising.
‘In my experience, mixing business with pleasure only has one unfortunate outcome.’
From languorous arousal, his face instantly hardened into an austere mask. ‘Don’t judge me by another man’s standards. Have I ever lied to you?’
‘No,’ she answered truthfully. ‘But—’
He placed a finger on her lips. ‘He was worthless and attempted to tarnish you with the same brush. I know your worth, Alexis.’
Deep, solemn words that shook the very root of her soul. Alexis was stunned by how much she wanted to cling to them. But...wasn’t this very urge to cling what had left her devastated in the end? And once this little sexual experiment had ended, then what?
‘Our agreement is for three years, Alexis, and there’s still two of them left. You might grow bored of me long before then,’ he said, although the light in his eyes said the contrary.
She wasn’t about to stroke his ego by denying it. Maybe he assumed that because he believed she wasn’t the clingy type. Or even the falling-in-love type.
Someone else might have appreciated the unspoken compliment. But his perception was a vice around her chest, a reminder that it was the same reason most families had passed her over as a child. The reason her own mother had abandoned her on a forgettable doorstep. She was unlovable. Good, it seemed, for only a brief fling and nothing more.
‘I’m human, Christos. I may develop needs that go beyond just sex.’
For a nanosecond his face shuttered. Then he was back in counterargument mode. The mode he thrived in best. ‘And do you intend to deny them all as a whole or will you let me take care of one, in particular? You can rest assured I won’t l
eave you wanting in any way when it comes to sharing my bed,’ he said, his voice low and throbbing with the kind of dangerous sexiness that should trigger a definite flight response from her.
Instead, the brazen and unexpected response made her roll her eyes. ‘You’re certainly not lacking in the sexual ego department, are you?’
His smile was pure arrogance. ‘Our chemistry is remarkable. You’d be a fool to let it go to waste when we’re tied to each other for the foreseeable future.’
She opened her mouth to dismiss his claim with the contempt it deserved. But slowly, her lips pressed together, that loud drumbeat in her ears warning her that this could be her only chance to experience something this spectacular.
He took the opportunity to step closer, to run his fingers down her cheek, an action he seemed particularly enamoured of. ‘Take the afternoon. Think of this,’ he murmured, lowering his head to brush his lips lightly over hers. ‘And this.’ The hand on her cheek trailed down her neck, over her shoulders, to lightly graze over her nipple, causing her to shiver wildly. Against her lips, she felt his conceited smile as his hand strayed even lower, over her belly, aiming for that hot place between her legs. She had ample time to stop him, but every last objection drained away, her senses alive with the need pounding through her, with the hunger to experience what he was offering. ‘Then think of my lips here, pleasuring you for hours. Making you come over and over.’
Alexis barely stopped her knees from giving way at the thick promise. His free hand gripped her shoulder, even as the hand between her thighs splayed possessively over her hungry, feminine core. Over her clothes, his fingers boldly caressed her, unerringly finding her most responsive spot and stroking her to a frenzied arousal. Her nails dug into his skin as a delicious haze blinded her.
‘Christos...’ She wasn’t aware she’d thrown her head back until his lips found her pulse, caressing it with lazy strokes that matched the bold ones between her thighs.
‘Yes, that is exactly how you will pant my name when I’m inside you. My name, matia mou. No one else’s.’
With that hard-edged edict, he caressed her one last time, then stepped back.
Alexis inhaled desperately as he took her hand and led her back to the buggy.
In the hours after that, he didn’t by word or deed reference that insane moment on the cliff edge, morphing into the perfect host as they explored the rustic dwellings that had once formed part of a vineyard but was now turned into a stunning staff quarters for the caretakers of Drakonisos. Alexis was gratified to see that they lacked for nothing, that the same demanding but generous ethic she’d noted in Christos was practised by his grandfather.
She was hot and thirsty by the time Christos stopped the buggy almost three hours later under a clutch of cypress trees at a midway point between north and south.
An elaborate picnic was laid out on a checked blanket, complete with champagne, oysters and an array of mouth-watering Greek food.
‘Hungry?’
‘I’m starving.’
His gaze dropped to her mouth, setting it tingling. ‘Come, then. Let me feed you.’
He alighted, came around to help her off the buggy. And as she dropped down to the blanket and feigned an avid interest in the spread, Alexis was terrified to note she was several degrees hotter and more bothered. And that it had nothing to do with their trek.
* * *
The possibility of everything backfiring was strong enough to allow brief moments of misgivings as Christos expertly uncorked the champagne and filled their glasses. But they were nowhere near as strong as the need that simmered beneath his skin, threatening to turn into a blaze at the smallest opportunity.
Sleeping next to Alexis last night had been a special form of hell. He’d made an excellent job of feigning sleep until she’d stopped fretting long enough to fall asleep. Then it had been his turn to wonder what the hell he was playing at. Why he was torturing himself like this...
For Drakonisos.
For the place that had helped him hang on to a shred of humanity when everything and everyone around him had shown him that life was a hot mess of greed, pain and self-aggrandisement. In his more indulgent moods, he’d even believed the island had reached out loving arms and hugged him when he’d needed it most.
The last thing he would allow was Georgios to turn this into a hedonistic destination for his unsavoury circle of friends. That he wasn’t prepared to stomach.
He focused on her as Alexis finished admiring the view and turned her gaze on him. That blaze flared up higher.
‘This is a beautiful place. I can see why you want to hang on to it.’
He handed her a glass. ‘It definitely deserves better than to have it turned into another celebrity hangout or, worse, a destination for a TV reality show.’
Her eyes grew wide. ‘That’s what your cousin intends to do?’
‘Yes. My grandfather isn’t the only one with eyes and ears.’
‘Does he know?’
‘No. And I don’t intend to tell him.’ Telling Costas to gain an unfair advantage wasn’t his style.
She sipped her champagne, then flicked those magnificent eyes at him. ‘Even though it might gain you an upper hand?’
‘I’m confident Georgios will show his own hand before long.’
‘You don’t seem to think very highly of him.’
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps I would if he didn’t expend far too much time and energy cursing me for advantages he seems to think I earned simply by being born Costas’s grandson when he was not. What he doesn’t appreciate is that it’s the effort you put in, not the blood running through your veins, that matters.’
Her eyes shadowed. ‘I wouldn’t know, would I?’
He uttered a silent curse. ‘No. And that’s regrettable. But perhaps you’ll take my word for it that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side?’
‘Is it bad to wish that I’d been given the opportunity to find out for myself?’
A twinge of shame in his chest reminded him why he was doing all of this in the first place—because while his parents had fallen far short of their duties, he’d found an outlet here on Drakonisos thanks to his grandfather. ‘No, it isn’t,’ he found himself responding, his regret piercing deeper.
Her eyes stayed on his a moment longer, an affinity settling between them, before her long-lashed gaze lingered again on the deeper blue waters that slammed against the rocks a short distance away. ‘I agree. It’ll be a shame to have all this spoilt for the sake of financial gain.’
He’d already concluded that she was...unsettling to his senses. But every time she confirmed how in sync they were, the more he became certain that his plan would work. ‘Unfortunately, some people can’t think beyond the urge to win at all costs, regardless of how much they have or the consequences of their actions.’
The acid in his voice redirected her gaze to his. His stomach clenched, a part of him wary that she’d delve deeper into what he’d already revealed about his parents.
But again, she surprised him by holding her tongue when others would’ve seized the opportunity to ferret out more secrets.
They dished out small quiches, cold meats, olives and sun-dried tomatoes. He passed on the baklava but served her a portion, watching with a compulsion he couldn’t stem while she ate it.
‘Well, I hope you win,’ she said softly after finishing the last bite, and his breath expelled, partly in relief, and partly with an emotion he was loath to name. Because while professionally he had people on his side, personally there’d never been anyone. Even Costas had been preoccupied with his grandmother and her failing health, only granting crumbs of affection to Christos when he could. While he’d gratefully accepted those crumbs, he’d known then it wasn’t enough. The hunger in his soul had demanded more. And while he hated to admit it, that lack had scarred him. Enough to put comm
onplace desires, like love and family, out of his mind.
But one desire he could have. One desire he craved more than anything else. His gaze dropped to her chest. Lower, over her belly to where her dress gathered in her lap. The memory of the sound of her keening arousal, the scent of her femininity, made him grow instantly hard, and he raised his eyes to clash with the liquid chocolate-brown ones he yearned to see flame with passion.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she murmured, her husky voice like tinder to the flames already burning within him.
‘If all it takes is a look to arouse you, perhaps you should either shore up your defences a little more...or—and this is my personal preference—give in to me.’
Her nostrils quivered. Right before her firm little chin rose in challenge. ‘I’m done eating. Can we go now?’
He smiled, partly in anticipation. Partly in acceptance that she was proving unique in this too, that she wouldn’t fall into his lap the way women had done so very easily in the past. He also smiled because he knew this chase would be the most thrilling of all. Because at its culmination he would gain the thing he treasured most in the world.
He rose with a peculiar lightness in his chest, and when she placed her hand in the one he held out to her that sensation intensified.
‘I look forward to our little skirmish,’ he murmured.
That adorable defiance remained as her gaze boldly met his. ‘I wouldn’t hold your breath if I were you.’
* * *
The following days became an exercise in frustration, a test of his willpower and the intensifying thrill and uncertainty that maybe he might not acquire his prey this time.
From afar, Christos watched Alexis charm the villa staff with halting Greek phrases she was determined to perfect, first when her gowns arrived and he happened upon her in the living room of their suite, trying them on with the help of a young maid. Their eyes met across the small mountain of boxes and frivolous tissues, her face flushed a delicate pink as she stood there, her curvy body lovingly outlined in a satin slip, and her bare thighs and legs delivering a fresh punch of lust into his groin.