The Greek's Forbidden Innocent

by Annie West

  His hands dropped to his sides. ‘No! Of course not.’

  ‘There’s no of course. Some men do.’

  Slowly he inclined his head, his breath expelling in a rush of warm air that feathered her hair. ‘Not me. Not ever.’

  Mina surveyed him steadily, wondering whether to believe him, and her instinct.

  ‘I think you’re wrong about the theft. I think it’s a mistake. Maybe someone else stole the money and made it look like he did it.’ What she knew of Carissa’s father pointed to an honest man, though his idea of engineering an arranged marriage was bizarre. Maybe his recent bereavement had affected him more than Carissa feared.

  Alexei shook his head. ‘There’s no doubt. It was definitely him.’ He raised his eyebrows as if challenging her to prove otherwise.

  ‘Well, if so, he didn’t fritter it away funding parties in Paris.’ Carissa’s father had paid his daughter’s art school tuition and now helped with part of her rent, but Carissa was talented and hardworking, supplementing her income from her art by waitressing and modelling. Even her shopping addiction for second-hand clothes was a source of income since she sold items she’d refurbished.

  Alexei merely crossed his arms over his chest. He looked as unmoved and unmovable as the rocky outcrop at the far end of the beach.

  Mina suppressed a sigh. What was the point of protesting Carissa’s blamelessness? He’d never believe her. And, if he’d been ripped off so badly, who could blame him?

  She slicked her tongue around her parched lips, feeling the rush of her pulse and the jitter of nerves still unsteady after that sprint to the beach, with Alexei at her heels. And Alexei holding her against him as if he’d never release her.

  In fury, Mina reminded herself. Not desire. She was the one plagued by that. To Alexei she was a conniving thief, or as good as.

  She shivered and looked away, out over the water where the dark clouds grew more threatening by the moment. The humid air felt heavy, sultry with ominous foreboding.

  It was hard not to see it as a sign, a warning that Alexei had some revenge planned.

  Of course! Abruptly she swung towards him. His gaze was already on her, sending sensation wrinkling down her backbone. Mina’s mouth tightened. She had to stop reacting to him!

  ‘Why am I here, Alexei? What do you really want?’

  ‘Don’t look so worried. Nothing’s going to happen to you that you don’t want.’

  Mina took a second to digest that. It should have reassured except the dark speculation in his eyes and her answering tremor of awareness undermined certainty. As if their bodies spoke a different language. As if he expected her to want far more than was good for her.

  Mina refused to go there. Bad enough to find her first stirrings of real desire were for a man who didn’t trust or like her. Who was, to all intents and purposes, her enemy.

  She crossed her arms, mirroring his posture. ‘Why am I here, Alexei? And don’t give me that line about wanting to marry. That’s clearly a lie.’

  One dark eyebrow slanted. ‘You take offence at a lie?’

  Mina was about to tell him she abhorred dishonesty as much as she did selfish men who manipulated women for their own ends. Then she remembered she was here under false pretences. For the best of reasons, but still...

  ‘Spit it out, Alexei.’

  His eyes held hers. ‘You’re bait, to draw your father out. Since he had the front to suggest I marry you, I figure when he learns you’re here, he’ll assume his theft hasn’t been discovered or that I’m willing to come to some agreement with my soon-to-be father-in-law.’ His disdainful tone and chilly stare told her how likely that was.

  ‘And until he gets here?’ She swallowed. Her throat was tight and she had a hard time projecting calm.

  ‘Till then you’re my trump card.’ His lips curved in a smile she could only describe as dangerous. ‘I’ll keep you close.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE SOUND OF the wind finally distracted Mina. She looked up from the intricate design taking shape on her sketchpad and realised the noise she’d been vaguely aware of was the howl of a strong wind from the sea. The dark clouds had moved closer in the hours since her confrontation with Alexei and the light was lurid green.

  The hairs on Mina’s nape and arms lifted. She didn’t know tropical weather, but that eerie light reminded her of the explosive storms that occasionally devastated the mountains of her homeland.

  A crash made her jump. Mina put her drawing down and crossed to her bedroom window.

  A sun umbrella had fallen, knocking over a wrought-iron chair. As she watched, a cushion tumbled past and came to rest against a gardenia hedge.

  Mina opened the door and went out, feeling the whip of the wind. Another cushion floated in the pool. She concentrated on saving the rest, gathering them and dropping them inside her room.

  As she turned around, a chair slid, screeching across the flagstones. Mina chewed her lip, looking beyond the garden to the taller trees, bending in the wind. If the storm worsened, unsecured furniture could be dangerous, especially in a house with so many big windows. As for that umbrella...

  She was grappling with it, trying to close it against the force of the wind when she heard a voice behind her.

  ‘Leave that to me.’ Large hands took over, Alexei’s shoulder nudging her out of the way. She watched the strain of bunching muscles and tendons in his arms as he fought to close it, then heard a grunt of satisfaction as he finally succeeded. ‘You get inside. This will get worse before it gets better.’ He was already lifting the long umbrella pole and marching away.

  Mina frowned, staring as he disappeared around the corner of the house. What had she expected? Thanks for trying to help? She should have known better.

  But as another chair careered across flagstones, she set her mouth, grabbed it and followed him.

  Nearby, yet screened from the house, was a large garage. Inside, in addition to the four-wheel drive, she discovered a couple of jet skis, a windsurfer, canoes and Alexei, stacking the furled umbrella against a pile of outdoor furniture. He must have been working for some time, securing it all. Mina had been so busy working she hadn’t noticed.

  ‘Where’s Henri?’

  Alexei’s head jerked up. He hadn’t heard her approach over the noise of the wind. ‘Gone with Marie to the larger island for supplies. But the storm’s changed course, coming in faster than expected. They’ll have to stay there till it blows over.’

  Even in the gloom Mina could see the gleam of Alexei’s steady stare. Did he expect her to panic at the idea of a powerful storm?

  ‘What can I do?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  Behind her the door banged shut, leaving them in almost darkness. But not completely. Mina could make out his towering form, close now. The wide spread of his shoulders, the jut of his jaw as if he were still furious.

  Mina didn’t step back. To retreat would be to admit fear. She might be stuck here, an unwilling guest of an angry host who saw her as an avaricious plotter, but she refused to show anxiety. Even if there was something about Alexei Katsaros that made her breathing ragged and her pulse skip.

  But it’s not fear, is it?

  It’s desire.

  Mina inhaled a breath redolent with the tang of citrus and Alexei, and strove to ignore the flurry in her belly.

  ‘You said the storm’s coming more quickly than expected and Henri’s not here to help. What can I do to prepare?’

  * * *

  Alexei peered down at the slim figure before him, wishing it were light enough to read her expression.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d surprised him. When he’d rounded the house to find her struggling with the oversized umbrella his heart had almost stopped. Did she have any idea how dangerous that would have been, if the wind had ripped it out of her hold? How much damage it co
uld do as a projectile?

  ‘Get into the house and stay there.’ He had enough to do without worrying for her safety. The wind was still rising.

  For answer, she spun on her foot, headed for the door and yanked it open. Alexei saw her silhouetted against the light, long legs, short white shorts and a tight top that outlined a deliciously willowy body. He remembered the feel of her against him; the combination of taut flesh and enticing, feminine softness had been irresistible.

  Then she strode towards the house.

  Good riddance. Alexei had more to do and time was running out. Yet, as he carted more furniture to the garage, he found Mina marching towards him, carrying another chair. The wind had strengthened and her long dark hair whipped around her face.

  ‘What are you doing? Get inside. Now!’

  For answer she kept walking, would have passed him if he hadn’t caught her arm.

  Her haughty stare could have stripped bark from a tree. ‘There isn’t time to argue. Accept my help and do what you have to. What about shutters? I can’t see any. How do we protect the windows?’

  Alexei paused, surprised to discover she was serious. She planned to help him batten down for the storm. ‘They’re electric. They’ll come down at the punch of a button.’

  ‘Then shouldn’t you go and punch that button before we lose power?’

  She was right. Plus he wanted to double-check the backup generator.

  Alexei considered picking her up bodily and carrying her inside. She’d be safe. But no doubt she’d race back out here as soon as his back was turned.

  ‘Very well.’ He cast a look at the trees bending in the wind and, behind them, the inky, threatening sky. ‘But only five minutes more. The main entrance will be open. Come in that way.’ He lowered his head to her level, watching her pupils dilate. ‘No longer than five minutes. Got it?’

  Silently she nodded.

  But when the time was up, Carissa was nowhere to be seen. The wind was stronger now, the sound like a freight train approaching from a distance. They had to take shelter. They didn’t have much time left. Fat drops of rain fell and a second later he faced a grey sheet of solid water.

  His mouth tightened as he scanned the exterior of the house. All the furniture was shut away. The house was secure, storm shutters in place. But Carissa was nowhere to be found.

  Alexei called her name but the wind tore the sound away. Anxiety nipping at him, he sped through the garden, drenched by the needling deluge.

  He couldn’t see her. Not near the pool or house. He ventured further into the garden, blinking to clear his vision. With each passing second tension coiled tighter, his pulse racing faster.

  Alexei rounded a curve in a path to see something staggering towards him. The sight was so unexpected, the shape lurching drunkenly, that it took precious seconds to process what he saw. When he did, he stifled an oath and raced forward, anger vying with stupefaction.

  A sculpture! She’d stayed out in this to save a sculpture.

  Arms out, he grabbed the ungainly wooden shape as Carissa staggered against him, blown by the force of the gale.

  ‘Leave it! It’s not worth it.’ He felt her flinch. Saw her eyes widen as he tugged it from her.

  She clung on like a limpet, mouthing something he couldn’t hear. ‘Save...together.’

  Alexei shook his head. ‘Inside. Now!’

  Whether she heard him over the wind’s rising scream, Alexei didn’t know. But her mouth set in a mulish line as she held on tight. They didn’t have time to argue. The wind was still picking up speed. Soon the flying debris would be larger, more dangerous.

  Hefting the sculpture more securely, Alexei grabbed her hand and started back down the path.

  The way back took forever. The sodden ground was treacherous and the wind buffeted mercilessly. More than once he saved Carissa from falling when her foot skidded. Then, as they approached the house, the wind caught Alexei and the wildly rotating sculpture full force and almost plunged them into the pool. He would have dropped it there and then, except this time Carissa was dragging at his arm, holding him steady.

  Cursing, Alexei regained his balance and lurched forward. His muscles strained at the effort of carrying the cumbersome sculpture that wanted to fly from his arms into the screeching wind.

  Darkness. The slam of the door. Stillness after that riot of rushing air and hammering rain.

  Alexei struggled to the control panel on the wall, jamming his elbow against the switch that brought down the final storm shutter. Another jab and light filled the foyer.

  His breath came in rough gasps that tore his throat. Water sluiced down his face and he almost lost balance in the spreading pool of water as he bent to lower his ungainly burden.

  Finally he straightened to stare at the convoluted collection of carved sails that still spun and shivered with the dying momentum of the wind. No wonder it had felt as if it might take off from his arms. It was designed to move in a breeze. Breeze, not a cyclone!

  Alexei had bought it as a brilliant, evocative piece that paid homage to the centuries of seafarers who’d passed this way. Now, looking past the still-turning sails to the woman beyond, he wished he’d never seen it.

  She could have been hurt. More than hurt.

  The savage clench of his ribs around his organs wrapped fiery pain around Alexei’s torso.

  Mina was bent forward, hands on knees, dragging in desperate, gasping breaths. Her hair was a slick, dark curve that arrowed over her shoulder. Her nipples stood proud against the dark cherry pink of the top that plastered her breasts. Her slim legs glistened with water and there was a long red scratch on her shin.

  ‘What. The. Hell. Were. You. Thinking?’ He ground the words out.

  Her eyes lifted. A second later Carissa straightened, abandoning her recuperative pose for that now-familiar haughty stance. Chin forward, slender neck stretched high, eyebrows slightly raised. She did obstinate condescension to perfection.

  ‘Saving a wonderful work of art.’ She reached into a back pocket of her shorts and produced a large screwdriver. That explained how she’d dislodged the sculpture from its plinth. She must have grabbed it from the garage.

  ‘What on earth possessed you?’

  Still not quite believing what she’d done, he watched as she turned away and put the screwdriver down on a side table. It landed with a clatter. There was a jagged tear at the hem of her T-shirt and another scratch down the back of one toned thigh.

  Alexei felt something surge high inside. Something rough and sharp, scrabbling and clawing at his control. He clenched his jaw so tight he wondered if he’d ever unlock it.

  A spasm shook him as he remembered the waving boughs, the lashing storm and thought of the lucky escape she’d had.

  Carissa turned, eyes dark and wide in her too-pale face. ‘We couldn’t leave it there. It’s a masterpiece.’

  Alexei stared. He couldn’t believe what he heard.

  ‘You know it is.’ Her voice was clipped. ‘Otherwise you wouldn’t have bought it.’

  He knew all right. He wouldn’t have paid the exorbitant amount he had for it otherwise. But that didn’t matter.

  ‘That was the single most stupid, irresponsible thing I’ve witnessed in years.’ His voice lashed as he relived the sight of her, refusing to budge without her precious sculpture. ‘I don’t care about the money.’

  She flinched, her face paling even more. ‘Of course you don’t! Obviously I was mistaken. You probably bought it because it had a big price tag to match your big ego.’ She drew a breath that emphasised how shaky she was, despite her show of defiance. She looked proud and glorious and frighteningly vulnerable. And Alexei couldn’t understand why the vein of fury ran so deep and strong within him.

  It was a good thing they were on opposite sides of the room. Dimly he realised fear fed his anger. That terr
ible moment when he’d discovered her missing. Guilt that she could have died out there because he hadn’t forced her inside earlier.

  ‘It’s not worth your life. Do you have any idea how dangerous it was out there?’ Alexei heard his voice rise from a hoarse whisper to something close to a roar. ‘Are you really that thoughtless? That unbelievably stupid?’

  His loss of control stunned him. When had he ever been this angry? When he’d discovered her father’s theft he’d been livid, determined to get justice. He’d felt personally betrayed, made a fool of by the one person he’d trusted in years. But he hadn’t experienced this visceral level of dismay. This gut-scouring scrape of horror.

  Carissa didn’t flinch. She faced him with cool—almost too cool—composure.

  Finally the echo of his words died. Outside the wind wailed, but in here there was nothing but the sound of heavy, uneven breaths and the tumble of rushing blood in his ears.

  ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have a cut I need to attend to, before I stain your floor.’

  Carissa spun around and walked away down the dark corridor towards her suite. Belatedly he realised she was cradling one hand. And that she walked with the careful precision of someone marshalling their strength to stay upright.

  The red mist edging Alexei’s vision began to clear. The cyclonic rage eased. His brain kicked into gear, enough to suspect her superior bearing hid something other than disgust at his fury.

  His gaze dropped to the floor. A spatter of dark droplets led down the corridor. The sight was a kick to the belly.

  Her hand was bleeding and he hadn’t noticed. He’d been too busy berating her.

  Alexei slumped against the wall, palming his wet face, trying to scrub away the last vestiges of blinding fury.

  He still reeled from the fact Carissa had pitched in to help secure the house, making herself useful as if she wasn’t the spoiled, self-absorbed woman he’d pegged her as. Alexei had expected her to demand he spirit her off the island. Or that she’d cower in the house, frightened by the ferocity of the weather. He wouldn’t have blamed her.