* * *
I arrive at the marina and hop out of the car, securing the case of beer and my towel under one arm. I haven’t even made it to the rental shack yet when I hear Tess calling my name. I turn to see her and nearly lose all rational thought.
She’s standing on the boardwalk with a couple of other girls, one of them the brunette who picked her up when she got off the ferry that first day. She’s wearing some sort of cover-up thing like girls always wear, but it’s transparent—white gauzy stuff that floats around her in the breeze and barely skims the tops of her thighs. Underneath is a tiny black bikini and a body that could make a grown man weep. I nearly do when my fucking conscience reminds me that I promised we’d be friends only. What the hell was I thinking?
She’s got long golden legs, sweetly rounded hips, and smooth as cream tits that peek out tantalizingly from the small triangles of her bikini top. Her beautiful blonde hair is up in a messy bun of some sort, tendrils caressing her neck exactly where I’d like to put my lips.
“Hey,” she says, as she gets closer. “You made it.” She smiles at me and it’s brighter than the Grecian sun. And so warm that something inside of my chest pinches painfully. I have to pause for a step to catch my breath.
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” I tell her, sounding like a lovelorn sap. I reach for the soft-sided cooler she’s carrying on a shoulder strap. After looping it over my own shoulder I try to recover by being flippant. “My family’s in shipping after all, boats are sort of my thing.”
“And thank God for that,” the brunette says. “Because I don’t think any of the other guys know shit about boats.”
I laugh and put out my hand. “I’m Niko.”
She smirks at me. “Oh, yes you are.” She shakes my hand. “Cass. The roommate.”
Tess rolls her eyes. “You remember Cass from the day I got here, right?”
I nod and she turns to the other girl standing with them. “Una this is Niko, he—” she pauses and I tilt my head waiting to hear what she’s going to say, “—he works with me. And Niko, this is Una, she’s from Germany on exchange this year.”
The German girl gives me the once over and then slips on a carnivorous smile.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, decidedly disinterested even though she’s hot. I may be here as Tess’s friend only, but I’m not about to hit on someone else in front of her. I know enough about the confusing minds of women to realize that would be like signing my own death warrant.
Una’s eyes narrow and she huffs out a breath before turning and flouncing off down the dock. Guess she got my message and didn’t like it.
“I think they’ve got the boat about ready to go,” Tess says, trying to cover the awkwardness. We all walk down the dock, toward a group of guys and girls standing next to the rental boats.
“I see you got twice as much beer as I told you to,” she says. Cass tries to cover up a laugh, then she coughs while she blurts out “bossy”.
“I brought some to share, but it’s only Mythos. Definitely not fancy.” I lean closer to her ear as we walk along. “How about my lunch? Did you bring me something good?” It sounds lascivious because it is. With her in that swimsuit my honorable intentions are being tested in the best possible way.
Somehow Cass heard me and turns as we get to the last boat in the slip. “We brought a ton of food, we’ve both got older brothers so we know the drill.”
We all stop walking, and I finally look at the boat we’re supposed to be spending the afternoon on. It’s a standard waterskiing boat, built to hold ten people and it looks like there are nine of us ready to board it.
“This is going to be one crowded party,” I mutter to myself.
“What?” Tess asks, giving me another one of those beautiful smiles. My more-than-friendly heart skips a beat.
I gaze at her, all semblance of casual speech blown out of my mind. Luckily, before I can steep more in humiliation with my stunned silence, a voice to my left says my name.
“Mr. Stephanos?” I turn and see an older man, Greek fishing cap perched on his head, his skin weathered and leathery. He’s the walking cliché of the old Greek sailor.
“I had no idea this was your party,” he exclaims in Greek. “You should have told me, I would have reserved something nicer for you.”
I answer him in English so that I’m not rude to the rest of the group who are all watching us now. “This one is great. We’re just going for a ride to catch some sun,” I tell him, smiling as I shake his hand.
He’s nervous as he nods his head up and down rapidly. “Maybe you’d rather take your ship?” He points down toward my dad’s yacht sitting in dock at the end of the marina. It’s twice the size of anything else here, and has the giant Stephanos logo on it, so it’s not exactly inconspicuous.
“No,” I tell the old man. “We’re not taking the Stephanos ship today.”
“That’s yours, mate?” one of the guys in the group asks, jaw aflap.
I scratch the back of my head and dart a look at Tess, not sure how to handle this.
“My dad’s actually,” I say.
“Mr. Stephanos,” the old sailor continues, still using Greek with me. “You need to go for a ride in your papa’s ship today. This boat isn’t good enough for you. We keep these for the tourists. You need something better.”
This time I answer him in Greek, so that the others won’t be able to understand. “Your boat is fine, really. I’m here as a guest. They’re all students at the University and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable with such a big ship. Do you understand what I mean?”
He nods. “Okay, if you say so, Mr. Stephanos. But if you’re unhappy with this boat you come back and I’ll try to find you something better.”
I reassure the old guy that the rental boat is fine. Quoting an old Greek proverb to him that basically says to be mindful of what the group wants.
He smiles at me. “You’re a fine man. Your papa is proud of you. Georgios is proud of you.”
I thank him and he goes on to explain the little boat to us—to me really, since he seems to have forgotten that the guys who are actually renting it are there. When he finally leaves to go back to the rental shack we all board, get our stuff settled, and everyone introduces themselves.
“And you’re Niko Stephanos,” the British guy named Dominick says.
“I am,” I answer.
“So all those monstrosities in the harbor belong to your family then?”
I laugh. “Yeah. They carry things like cars and railroad containers, they have to be big.”
He nods.
I pull out a beer from the case I’ve stashed under one of the bench seats. “Brew?” I offer.
He nods, “Thanks, mate.” I give his buddy another one and two of the girls take me up on them too. Everyone seems to settle in and Dominick takes the wheel, starting up the engine.
“You know how to drive one of these?” I ask.
“Nope, but I’m going to learn right now,” he answers as we begin to move away from the dock.
Ten minutes and a couple of near misses later we’ve cleared the harbor and are comfortably out at sea, the shoreline still close by.
“I’m guessing you could drive this boat a lot better than Dominick,” Tess whispers to me as the other girls gather in the seats at the bow of the boat, someone’s iPod speakers blasting out dubstep and rap.
I smile at her and take a swig from my second beer. I quickly realized that only by slamming the first one would I relax enough to let good old Dominick steer us out of the marina without losing my shit.
“I come from a long line of sailors,” I tell her. “I’ve been on boats and the water since I was old enough to walk, but I’m not sure what your rules are for this whole thing. I didn’t want to come off as the pretentious rich guy taking over everything.”
She shakes her head. “Okay, new rule. If it means saving our lives, you can be as pretentious as you want. Don’t let us drown if you can pay for a
helicopter to save us or something, all right?”
I chuckle. “Don’t worry, princess, I won’t let anything happen to you. Dominick can’t pilot worth a damn, but these rental boats are nearly idiot proof and that sailboat he almost ran into was just screwing with us anyway. It was Darvos Andrade and he can sail a boat through the eye of a needle, so he would have never let us get that close unless he wanted to scare the crap out of you all.”
“That’s just mean,” she says, but her eyes are laughing and her lips twitch. God, I’d like to wipe that smirk off of her face, replace it with ecstasy.
I lean back and get as comfortable as I can on the fake leather seats of the little boat. Dominick has cut the engine now and we’re drifting, one of the guys has dived into the water and the girls have all shed their cover-ups.
“What was the old guy at the marina saying to you?” she asks, cocking her head to one side like a cute little puppy.
I clear my throat, not sure why this makes me uncomfortable, but it does.
“He thought maybe I’d prefer to go out on my family’s boat.”
“Ah.” She nods. “You’ve probably never been on one of these little rentals, huh?”
I shrug. “I don’t really recall, but if it gets you out on the water it’s all good.”
She looks back toward the harbor where my dad’s yacht sits. “I guess the whole idea of you being an average person is pretty far fetched no matter how cheap the beer you’re drinking.”
I shake my head. “Believe it or not, even though I’m spoiled and out of touch, I sometimes wish I was average.”
She looks at me thoughtfully for a moment, her sunglasses obscuring what I might learn from her eyes.
“No matter how much money you might or might not have, you could never be average,” she tells me, her raw honesty digging deep into my chest, puncturing places I didn’t even know were there.
I clear my throat, slightly overcome by her beauty, not just her looks.
“Careful, princess,” I say, my voice rough. “I promised I’d be your friend, but you’ll get my hopes up for more if you keep sweet talking me like that.”
She laughs softly. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m a guy, I’m always hungry.”
“Good, I made you something from home—Illinois, I mean. Let me go get it.”
She scoots up to the front of the boat where the coolers and all the other people are. I pin my eyes to the horizon, in an effort not to look at her ass in that bikini.
“That was sweet,” Cass says as she sits next to me in the spot vacated by Tess. “What you told the old man at the marina. How you didn’t want to horn in on the plans these guys had already made.”
“You speak Greek.” Somehow I’m not surprised. Cass speaks very American English, but something about her is familiar, like looking at photos of a place you’ve vacationed in multiple times.
“My mom’s from here. My dad’s American,” she answers. It all makes perfect sense.
“Tess is trying to train the billionaire out of me.” I laugh. “Think she can do it?”
“Why would you want her to?”
“Apparently I can be somewhat of an ass,” I say.
“Yeah, the guy who wanted to spare the feelings of a bunch of college kids is a real ass. Also the guy who’s slumming it to make his intern at work happy.” She looks at me skeptically. “But that’s right, you’ve got the hots for her, so you’ll do about anything to get in her pants I bet.”
I feel my face heat. I’m not sure if I’m pissed that she’s implying I’m being dishonest, or embarrassed that she can tell how badly I have it for Tess.
“Tess is great, but I’m not doing this for any reason other than I think she’s right. I can be an entitled jerk a lot of the time, and worse, I don’t even realize it usually.”
I pause, wondering how much I should tell a girl I barely know. “Tess is the perfect person to help me with that because she’s not from here. Let’s just say that most of the people I’m around every day would never even think to tell me I’m being an ass.”
“Huh.” She squints at me.
“What?” I ask. This girl makes me nervous, like she’s going to hex me or something.
“You really don’t see it?”
“See what?”
“The fact that you’re letting little Tess Richardson from Illinois, USA tell you how to act is proof that you’re not a rich dick. But even more than that it’s proof that you like her an awful lot.”
“It’s not like that,” I say, looking at her sharply.
“Riiight,” she answers.
Tess comes back then, and interrupts us with a cooler full of ham and cheese sandwiches along with orange sodas and salt and vinegar potato chips. It’s about as regular as you can get, and I love every bite.
Tess
The nation of Greece has not fully exploited their greatest natural resource—the bare chest of Niko Stephanos.
When he whipped off his shirt after lunch and dove into the water I nearly swooned right on the deck of our little floating party palace. And to top off the tan skin, cut abs, hard as steel pecs, and treasure trail that is begging me to touch, he’s being the perfect guest. He made friends with the guys from Britain, even subtly giving Dominick a few pointers on piloting the boat. He charmed Cass to the point that she leaned over and whispered in my ear, “If you don’t do him, I will.” He had Una and Cristal laughing so hard over some joke about the Eurozone economy that Una forgot to be offended he wasn’t hitting on her.
Now he’s treading water a few feet away as I sit on the back of the boat with my legs dangling into the water.
“Come on,” he pleads. “Just hop in, it’s great out here.”
I shake my head. “Huh, uh. I swim in lakes, not the ocean. There are all sorts of…things…in that water.”
He laughs and slicks back his wet hair, exposing those crystal blue eyes even more.
“What kinds of things are you talking about?”
“Sharks,” I shout at him. “There are sharks in oceans and I saw Jaws when I was eight and I’ve been scared to swim in the ocean ever since.” There. I said it.
He stares at me for a moment, then swims over, placing a hand around one of my ankles. He looks up at me earnestly. “Really? You’re scared of sharks?”
I nod, knowing I’m completely pathetic.
“Well,” he says softly, placing his other hand around my other ankle. “You don’t need to be.” He strokes his hands up and down my ankles and calves, and I nearly forget to breathe. Tingles shoot up and down my legs, and I sigh with pleasure as his thumbs massage the sensitive skin around my heels.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of out here, princess.” His voice is hypnotic, soft, gritty, sexy as hell. “Because the only shark in Greece…is me!” He jerks my ankles hard, and I slide right off the slick plastic of the boat before I fly over the water for a split second then land with a crash, dipping under before Niko lifts me up by my elbows, holding me close as I splutter and shake the water out of my face.
“Oh my God!” I shriek. “You did not do that!”
He chuckles as we tread water, facing one another. I can see the drops of water sparkling on his long, dark eyelashes. They’re like tiny diamonds.
“I did do that,” he says. “And you’re going to thank me for helping you overcome your fear. The last time there was a shark attack in Greek waters was the middle ages or something. You’re more likely to run into a hydra than a shark.”
“A hydra?” I look around frantically at the surface of the water. “What the hell is that? Oh my God. Let me back on the boat.”
I struggle to get out of his grasp, but he pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “Shhh,” he soothes, his mouth next to my ear. “Calm down, princess. A hydra’s a mythological creature—a kraken, you know? There are no hydras, no sharks, just you and me, and the deep blue sea.”
He’s using the voice again, and I
relax, holding still in his arms, feeling the sun on my wet hair, the water caressing my skin. I inhale and smell salt, and sea, and something citrusy from Niko’s hair. My heart beats double-time, and I realize that I’m in so much trouble. This guy—this billionaire—is like a hero in a movie. As much as I’ve tried to turn him into a villain, he’s not. He’s a hero—warm, funny, considerate, gorgeous, sexy.
I don’t know that I ever really thought he’d fire me if we had a fling that didn’t go well. I think I convinced myself of it to push him away, because the fact is that I’m afraid. Afraid to get close to him, afraid to like him too much. Afraid to want something I know I can’t have. In my life I’ve only ever gone after the possible. I’m not afraid of hard work, but I know the rules. I know what things I’m allowed and what things I’m not. I stick to those—the practical, the doable, the attainable. And for someone like me, Niko Stephanos is absolutely not one of those things. He’s a Greek billionaire. I’m a cop’s daughter from Illinois. There may not be an actual rule against us, but there’s surely an unwritten one.
Self-preservation kicks in and I slide out of Niko’s hold like a water snake, propelling myself away from the boat, and kicking up water that hits him in the face. “You may have hydras here,” I call over my shoulder. “But we have the Lake Michigan Monster, and I can outswim him. Get a move on Greek boy.” I take off, swimming my hardest, and it isn’t long before I feel Niko by my side, racing me to nowhere, in the golden Grecian sun. I try not to think that I might be breaking the biggest rule of them all—losing my heart to a guy I can never have.
* * *
“Niko’s not at all like you said,” Cass tells me as we lounge in front of a movie later that night.
“Oh yeah? In what way?”
“Well, he’s not an arrogant jerk for one thing.”
The Heir: A Standalone Greek Billionaire Romance Page 9