by -Julia James
'For today—' he shot back his cuff and glanced at the gold watch circling his wrist '—it is too late to make any kind of expedition. Besides—' the smile quirked again '—I have only just flown in from Athens, and that pool looks far too inviting to resist.' He frowned, as his gaze took in just how thronged with children it was. 'Perhaps it will get quieter later.'
'Yes, it empties out around six-ish,' confirmed Janine. Her spirits were zipping, around in her, whooshing like crazy. 'The sea is a better bet right now. A path goes down to the beach just beyond the pool.' She indicated with her hand.
He nodded. 'The sea it shall be, then,' he said. His eyes swept over her once more. 'Perhaps you would care to join me there later when you have finished your sunbathing?'
Janine's eyes flickered. 'Thank you—yes.'
Her voice was still breathless, and she felt light-headed.
Nikos got to his feet. I'll see you down there,' he told her, and bestowed one last smile on her for good measure before he walked away towards the hotel.
Janine gazed after him until he disappeared from view.
Slowly, she bent her head to drink her frappe through the twin straws in the glass.
Her pulse was racing.
Nikos plugged his laptop cable into the wall-jack in his room and dialled into his e-mail. As he waited for his latest messages to download, the image of Janine Fareham floated enticingly in his mind. He let himself indulge in recollecting her charms, plentiful as they were, and replayed the exchange he had had with her.
Satisfaction filled him. Things were going exactly to plan. She was responding to him very satisfactorily.
And you are responding to her—definitely responding...
But that was good, he reasoned immediately. It was good that he should feel such desire for a woman he needed to seduce. It would lend great verisimilitude to the undertaking.
And danger?
He rebuffed the notion immediately. What danger was there for him in this enterprise? None. He would seduce
Janine Fareham, enjoy her—because she looked as if she were going to be very enjoyable indeed—and that would be that. She would not be returning to Stephanos.
Without conceit he knew that he had a lot more to offer than a man of Stephanos's age! And even if she thought She could go back she would discover otherwise. Once Stephanos knew of her defection there would be no way that he would take her back after she had fallen into his, Nikos's, bed!
No, his plan was entirely without danger—least of all to himself. Janine Fareham was a stunningly attractive female, and he would certainly enjoy taking her to bed—but then he always enjoyed taking beautiful women to bed.
And so many were so willing...
A caustic smile parted his lips. Demetria might volubly yearn for the day she saw him finally married, and berate him for his sexual lifestyle, but it was hardly a problem for him. The stream of women wanting him to desire them was endless, so even if he did tire of them—as he always did— it caused him no difficulty. He simply moved on to the next one.
There was always a next one.
And there would certainly be another one once he had finished with his brother-in-law's mistress.
Irritated with himself for giving form to such pointless musing, he stabbed at the mouse button to open the first e-mail his PA had forwarded as worthy of his attention. In an instant his mind was preoccupied, diverted totally on to business matters.
By the time he had surfaced from his business affairs, the sun was setting. The room temperature was pleasantly cool, thanks to the background air-conditioning, but when he stepped out onto the wide balcony of his room the afternoon warmth enveloped him. Even without his jacket he was far too hot.
Returning indoors, he stripped off and donned a pair of swimming trunks, before reaching for a pair of crisply cut cotton shorts and a casual shirt. As he reached for a beach towel the image of Janine Fareham in her skimpy bikini wafted once more through his mind. She would be waiting for him by now, no doubt.
Time to go to work.
At the bottom of the flight of steps that cut into the rock between the gardens and the sea he paused, looking around him. To one side of the hotel beach and further out to sea the windsurfers were clearly in action, skimming and twisting over the surface of the water. Immediately in front of him were two rows of loungers and parasols, and a bar cafe was set back from the beach, to save guests having to go back up to the pool level.
Out to sea, the westering sun was turning the water to turquoise.
He could see no sign of the girl.
And then he spotted her.
She was out to sea, swimming offshore in a leisurely breast-stroke. Her hair, he could just tell at this distance, seemed to be knotted on her head, out of the water.
Casting around to see which lounger she had taken, he saw the beach bag she'd had up by the pool and walked across to toss his towel down on it. Then he undressed down to his trunks to wade into the water. It caressed him like silk, and, with a lithe movement, he dived forward, striking out to sea in a powerful, fast stroke.
He closed the distance between the shore and the girl in a few moments, and then went right on past her. He needed exercise after the inactivity of the day. Besides, the vigorous exercise would help to drain off that layer of submerged, persistent anger he had felt ever since Demetria had dropped her bombshell. It wouldn't drain out completely, of course. Nothing could make it do that until the cause of his anger was removed. But he knew he had to keep his feelings under tight control—he must not, must not, let it show. Janine Fareham must get no inkling of it—not until it was far, far too late for her.
Just thinking of her, of the pain she was causing Demetria, the damage she was doing to Stephanos's mar- riage, made the anger surge through him again. It flared through him, urging his muscles forward, pushing him past the pain barrier as he churned through the water at a punishing speed.
Only when he was several hundred metres out to sea did he finally slow, his burst of energy and aggression spent. He turned over onto his back, temporarily exhausted, floating on the swell of the sea for a while, letting his heart-rate slow and his muscles recover.
His anger seemed abstract now, far away. Demetria and her suffering seemed far away too. Another image formed in his mind. The image of a beautiful blonde with a sun-kissed body and softly rounded limbs.
The woman he was going to calculatedly and deliberately seduce—because she was his sister's husband's mistress.
For a few brief seconds another emotion surfaced. An alien one. Unwelcome.
Reluctance.
Reluctance at the task ahead of him.
And reluctance to question why he felt that way. What was wrong with what he was planning to do? The girl was threatening to destroy his sister's marriage—he was simply trying to help Demetria, who had quite enough torment in her life coping with her infertility. She did not need her husband cheating on her with a younger woman!
And just because, he reminded himself tightly, the younger woman in question had turned out to be so incredibly desirable, that was no reason to flinch from what he had promised Demetria he would do. No reason to feel reluctant to pursue his carefully planned strategy of calculated seduction.
He put his reluctance aside. There was no reason why he should not do what he was setting out to do. The girl had got her claws into his brother-in-law—he was going to remove them. End of story. He had set out on this course and he would pursue it to the end. He would accomplish what he had set out to do—what he knew he had to do.
And use whatever it took to achieve that goal.
There was nothing else to be done.
He flipped over and headed back to shore with a steady, unhurried stroke, making for the girl who was his target and his mission. She too had circled round to head back towards the beach, still kicking with her leisurely breast-stroke, head held high out of the water. As he neared her he dived and swam underwater for some metres, emerging just
in front of her in a shower of spray.
Janine's breast-stroke stalled abruptly. She'd been miles away mentally, using the smooth, rhythmic movement of her body in the sea to let her mind drift miles away.
But not too many miles. Just as far as the memory of the man whose face had been burning into her retinas since she had laid eyes on him. Once he'd disappeared from view, heading back up to the hotel, she'd gone back to her pool lounger and scooped up her things, heading down to the beach.
She'd tried to sunbathe again, but it had been impossible. Impossible to relax. She'd been fizzing with electricity— electricity generated by Nikos Kiriakis.
She'd given up trying to relax and instead had knotted up her hair, retied her bikini straps firmly, and gone into the water. Here, cool blue satin slipping past her heated body, she had given herself to the indulgence of recalling every last detail of the most breathtaking man she'd ever laid eyes on.
And suddenly now here he was, in the flesh, beside her.
And such flesh...
They were both out of their depths, still treading water, but the translucent liquid did little to hide from her the power and perfection of his body. Broad, bare shoulders topped a muscled chest, fuzzed with hair, every ab and pec lovingly outlined. No wonder he'd been able to swim at speed! His body was in superb condition.
Just like the rest of him...
His dark, wet hair was slicked back from his face. Diamonds glittered on those lush, long lashes of his.
White teeth flashed in a grin.
'If you swam any slower you'd go backwards!' said Nikos Kiriakis to her teasingly.
Janine trod water, trying to regain her composure and trying not to stare open-mouthed at Nikos Kiriakis with hardly a stitch on him.
'You go ahead,' she managed. 'I'll catch you up.'
He gave a laugh and swam away. Janine watched him carve through the water.
Like a shark, she thought...
Lean, dark and dangerous...
Now, why should she think that? What was dangerous about Nikos Kiriakis? He was a fantastic-looking male, but that was the only dangerous thing about him—and it was a danger every female who set eyes on him would experience.
A danger that she would end up doing something totally stupid over him.
Her lips pressed together. Well, she was not stupid. She'd got this far in life by not being stupid—not in the way that the likes of Nikos Kiriakis made women stupid. Women like her mother. Always falling for a handsome face. Oh, her mother had thought it 'romantic' to have one fervid affair after another, but Janine had never seen it like that. And where had it got her mother? Louise's flitting butterfly existence, lover after lover, had been a gilded existence, filled with nothing but parties and self-indulgence. Filled with men like Nikos Kiriakis.
She knew what men like Nikos Kiriakis were like. They were too rich, too handsome, too damn sexy to be anything but bad. And Nikos Kiriakis was definitely bad. He would be used to women swooning at his feet in droves!
Well, she mustn't be one of them.
She made a face.
She didn't need to tell herself that! Didn't need to warn herself. Nikos Kiriakis had the seal of approval from Stephanos—he wasn't going to be any kind of danger. OK, so he'd eyed her up, but that didn't mean anything. And she'd eyed him up—it had been impossible not to. But that didn't mean anything either. She wouldn't let it.
Her impeccable logic as to her own state of safety from Nikos Kiriakis lasted as long as it took to follow him to shore. By the time she was wading out of the water he had already towelled himself dry and had calmly appropriated her lounger. Nikos lay back and let her look, hands behind his head, shoulders slightly raised by the adjustable headrest, and he was subjecting her to a long and thorough examination.
In the space of less than a second Janine felt more aware of her body than she had ever felt in her life. And of just how close to being totally naked she was.
Suddenly, from being a quite unexceptional item of swimwear, her bikini seemed to shrink on her body, clinging damply to her tautened breasts and barely concealing her pubis.
As for the rest of her, every inch of flesh was totally exposed to him.
And every inch of it tingled as if an electric current were passing through it.
Every step she made to her lounger, she felt that dark, gold-flecked gaze resting on her appraisingly.
Being able to seize her towel and wrap it around her like a cocoon was a moment of exquisite relief. And then, just like a switch being thrown, she realised that she had become the one doing the appraising.
He lay back and let her look.
Oh, she didn't do it as blatantly as he had her, he acknowledged. She made some pretence of unknotting her hair and shaking it loose. But he could see perfectly well that her eyes were fixed on him, covertly working over him through those long lashes of hers. Working over his body.
Well, that was good. That was very good. He wanted her to like what she saw. Wanted her to want him.
It made him want her too...
With a sudden movement he jack-knifed to his feet. It took a lot of control to make it look like an intentional movement.
Where the hell had that come from? The strength and; immediacy of his reaction to her perusal shocked him.
With iron discipline he crushed his response. A public beach was not the place for it!
Immediately his imagination leapt to provide another venue—one where his reaction would be exactly what he wanted. A private beach—just the two of them—and Janine Fareham raising her arms to let the golden fall of her hair cascade over her bared breasts...
Again he crushed his response, forcing himself to regain control.
'Here,' he said, gesturing at the lounger he'd just vacated. 'This was yours. I'll use this one.'
He turned to the adjacent lounger, flicking his towel over it. But his gesture went unappreciated.
I think I'll head back,' replied Janine. Her voice was not quite steady, she noticed, and it dismayed her. She mustn't react like this to this man. She just mustn't! TT take a shower and wash off the salt.'
She flickered a smile at him, not meeting his eye, and grabbed her bag, stuffing her feet into her beach sandals haphazardly. She had to get out of here—fast.
Behind her, Nikos watched her hurry off, his eyes narrowing. Then, slowly, he lowered himself back down on the lounger, gazing blindly out to sea. OK, so she could turn him on. Fast.
Quite something for a man of his experience.
And very enjoyable...
And dangerous?
He frowned.
But it was good. That he was responding to her sexually like this. After all, he reasoned, he had to make this deliberate seduction of his look real. Convincing.
Convincing? He'd damn near convinced everyone on the entire beach!
With a rasp of irritation he pushed the mocking comment aside. It wasn't helpful. Instead he made a lightning review of the situation—the same as he would if this were a business deal he was pushing through. OK, so where was he on this?
Fact: he needed to get Janine Fareham into bed with him ASAP. The sooner she was in, the sooner she'd be out. And out of Stephanos's bed as well.
Fact: Janine Fareham turned him on.
Fact: that was good. Very good. Just as he could leverage her desire for him, so he could leverage his desire for her. The more leverage, the sooner he'd achieve his goal.
Saving Demetria's marriage.
Because that, and only that, was the object of this exercise. Enjoying Janine Fareham in bed was nothing more than incidental to that objective.
He'd better not forget it.
He closed his eyes. The westering sun was warm on his bare, damp skin.
Might as well catch some rays and chill out. Take a break before Act II of his fast-track seduction of Janine Fareham got underway.
He let his muscles relax.
It had been a long day. A long week. A long month. In fact i
t was a long time since he'd simply relaxed in the sun like this. Doing nothing. Letting the light breeze play over his body, the sun bathe his skin.
No one could contact him, no one could make demands on him. He didn't need to check e-mails, or stock prices, or take conference calls.
He could just stay totally out of touch and let the world outside take care of itself.
Time enough to pursue and put paid to Janine Fareham.
Right now he felt like relaxing.
Halfway up, the stone steps widened into a little parapet, affording a view down to the beach through the vegetation, Janine paused. She couldn't resist looking back.
Immediately she saw him. He'd occupied the other! lounger and was lying there, hands behind his head, facer tilted into the sun. She let her eyes move over his body. From here, at this safe distance, she could let herself do that. Let her eyes run over the smooth, bronzed, muscled torso, down over the taut, tight abs, and pick out the darker arrow that disappeared under the drawstring of his trunks. For a second her gaze lingered, then hastily moved on, down over the powerful hair-fuzzed thighs and down the long length of his legs.
He did not move—lay there completely motionless.
He looked, she thought, like a leopard drowsing in the sun.
The little shiver came again, that disturbing eddy that set her nerves tingling.
She wanted to go on gazing at him.
No! With an effort she pulled away, pushing back from the wooden railing that edged the pathway. Resolutely she twisted around and went on up the steps, not looking back.
The pool area was emptying now, much quieter. She did not linger but made her way indoors, her sandals flapping on the stone tiles, under the arching honeysuckle whose fragrance caught at her. Inside the hotel it was cooler, but only just. Her room was much colder, chilly even, with its background air-conditioning.
For the next hour she occupied herself showering, washing her hair, giving herself a facial and manicure, washing out her underwear, and finally pulling a sundress over her head. She phoned Room Service for coffee and watched an international news channel on television until it arrived. Then, tray in hand, she went out onto her balcony.