Greek Affairs in his Bed: Sleeping with a StrangerBlackmailed into the Greek Tycoon’s BedBedded by the Greek Billionaire

by Anne Mather

  Milos paused in the doorway, his shoulders wedged against the frame of one side, his hand braced to support himself against the other. ‘You can’t be serious,’ he said harshly. ‘You don’t honestly think I could share a house with you without sharing your bed?’ He shook his head impatiently. ‘Talk sense, Helen. After what I just said, you can’t calmly offer me a bed for the night!’

  Helen’s pulse was racing. ‘Why not?’

  Milos repeated roughly. ‘You know why not. Theos, Helen, do you think I could have forgiven you for depriving me of the first twelve years of my daughter’s life if I didn’t care about you? I’m not a saint, Helen. I’m a sinner. I wanted you when you were too young and innocent to know better, and I want you still. That’s my excuse?’

  Helen was stunned. ‘Then—then why didn’t you say so?’

  ‘When?’ He pushed away from the door, but to her relief he didn’t walk away from her. ‘When you were trying to make me jealous with your rich boyfriend, or when you were fighting me like a tigress, that morning at Vassilios?’

  Helen only heard one thing. ‘I—I wasn’t trying to make you jealous,’ she protested, gazing at him incredulously. ‘I wouldn’t do a thing like that.’ She hesitated. ‘I care about you too much.’

  Milos halted in front of her. ‘And I’m supposed to believe that?’

  ‘Yes. Yes. It’s the truth.’ Helen hesitated only a moment before covering the space between them. ‘You’ve got to believe me,’ she said, gazing up at him with wide, appealing eyes. She grasped his arm, revelling in the unaccustomed freedom of being able to express her feelings at last. ‘Did you mean what you said? You really do want me?’

  ‘I really do.’ Milos’s fingers closed around her arms, jerking her towards him. ‘Crazy woman,’ he added, flicking her lips with his tongue. ‘What a lot of time we’ve wasted, you and I.’

  Helen didn’t know what he meant by that. Whether he wanted her as his mistress or something else she didn’t dare think about, she didn’t care. It was enough that he was holding her, that his mouth was doing erotic things to hers. She’d worry about the future when she’d learned to let go of the past.

  She moaned as his tongue plunged deeply into her mouth, desire snaking like a fire through her belly. His hands were on her hips now, urging her more closely against him, letting her feel his throbbing arousal as he rubbed himself sensuously against her crotch.

  Somehow, her skirt had ridden up her legs, and Milos’s hands moved to cup the bare backs of her thighs. She was so glad she was wearing stockings and not tights, particularly when his fingertips probed the sensitive heat between her legs.

  ‘You’re wet,’ he said thickly, and she was too aroused to feel any embarrassment at his invasion.

  ‘You do that to me,’ she said instead, and his triumphant laugh was muffled against her throat.

  ‘You really want me,’ he said, opening the buttons of her shirt and exposing the lacy cups of her bra. ‘But you wear too many clothes,’ he added gruffly. ‘What was that you said about offering me a bed for the night?’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  HOURS later, Milos was awakened by Helen climbing onto the bed beside him. He’d slept, he realised, feeling an unaccustomed sense of relaxation. And a delicious sense of satisfaction. He couldn’t remember ever feeling as content as he felt at this moment.

  Because of Helen …

  Blinking in the pale light filtering through the drawn curtains, he saw she’d placed a tray of tea on the bedside table. She’d also dressed in some silky clinging garment that exposed her cleavage and gave tantalising glimpses of her bare thighs.

  Immediately, his body responded, and a rush of heat invaded his groin. Just the smell of her skin and he could feel the need stirring inside him, a carnal need that caused a physical ache in his gut.

  ‘I’ve brought you some tea,’ she said, and judging by the breathy catch in her voice she was as aware of his erection as he was. ‘Not the tea you made,’ she added huskily. ‘That was stone cold.’

  ‘Unlike me,’ he said drily, pushing himself up on his elbows. ‘What time is it? It can’t be morning already.’

  ‘I’m afraid it is.’ Helen’s smile was rueful. ‘It’s nearly eight o’clock.’

  ‘Like I said, it’s not morning yet,’ he retorted, reaching out to grasp a handful of her robe. ‘Mmm, this feels nice. Take it off.’

  Helen’s lips parted. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Yes, you can,’ he said, watching her with heavy-lidded eyes. And although she obviously wasn’t used to undressing in front of anyone, she obediently unfastened the cord at her waist and let the robe hang free.

  ‘Yeah, that’s much better,’ he murmured approvingly, looping his hand behind her head. ‘Now come here.’

  Helen couldn’t help herself. Milos covered her mouth with his and bore her back against the pillows so that her breasts were crushed against his chest. Although he’d pulled a sheet over them before they’d slept, it posed little problem when he kicked it aside.

  The warmth of her slim, lissom body beneath him was all he needed to feel. A groan of pure pleasure vibrated in his chest as he parted her legs with his thigh and pressed his erection to the sensitive opening of her body.

  ‘Do you know how much I love you?’ he demanded, tantalising her and himself by not penetrating the moist coils that he knew awaited him, and she uttered a little moan of protest.

  ‘Don’t tease me,’ she cried, reaching down between them to aid his passage, and Milos made a choking sound of defeat. The devastating brush of her cool fingers over his hot, pulsating shaft almost sent him over the edge, and with a muffled oath of submission he thrust into her yielding flesh.

  Only to draw back again in sudden awareness. ‘I don’t have any protection,’ he muttered, but she only wound her legs about his waist and urged him on.

  ‘Do you care?’ she breathed, her tongue circling his lips, her fingers shivering over the roughening stubble on his jaw line. ‘Just do it, Milos. You know you want to.’

  He had no argument with that, thought Milos roughly, plunging into her again and feeling her slick muscles closing about him. He half hoped he did make her pregnant. It was one way of ensuring that they’d stay together, and right now that was all he cared about.

  He climaxed a few moments later with the aftermath of Helen’s orgasm still rippling through her body. He spilled himself into her, shuddering at the force of his emotions. He’d never experienced anything like the feelings Helen aroused in him, and he would have been quite content to spend the rest of the day in bed.

  But minutes later Helen was wriggling out from under him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, stroking his cheek when he would have detained her, ‘but I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Where?’ Milos scowled. ‘It’s too early for visiting the hospital, isn’t it?’

  She dimpled. ‘I have to go to work, to see Mark. I have to tell him I’ll need at least another week off.’

  ‘Mark?’ Milos’s scowl deepened. ‘Mark who?’

  ‘Mark Greenaway,’ replied Helen lightly, reaching for her robe and slipping it over her shoulders. ‘He’s my boss. He’s been very good to me since Richard died. He knew I was going to be away for a couple of weeks, but now I need more time to look after my mother when she gets home.’

  Milos’s jaw compressed. ‘Is he married?’

  ‘Mark?’ Helen cheeks turned a little pink. ‘No.’

  ‘Is he the rich boyfriend Melissa spoke about?’

  Helen tried to wrap her robe about her and get off the bed, but he was too quick for her. ‘Is he?’ he persisted, aware of a most unfamiliar feeling of rage at the idea. ‘I want to know.’

  Helen sighed. ‘He—cares about me, yes.’

  Milos blew out a breath. ‘Has he asked you to marry him?’

  Helen gasped. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘Of course, it matters.’ Milos brought her fingers to his lips. ‘I want to know what the competition is.’
/>   Helen shook her head, a little sadly, he thought. ‘There is no competition,’ she said huskily. ‘I thought you knew that.’

  Milos absorbed this. ‘So if I’d asked you to marry me? What then?’

  Helen trembled. ‘But you haven’t asked,’ she pointed out softly, turning away and concentrating on the ties of her robe that had become trapped between her legs. ‘And I don’t want you to do something you might regret just because you think I might be attracted by Mark’s proposal. I won’t. I’ve turned him down once and I’d turn him down again, whatever happens.’

  Milos expelled a sigh of relief. ‘I’ve done all the regretting I’m going to do,’ he said feelingly. Then, getting onto his knees, he caught her chin and brought her round to face him. ‘So will you? Marry me, I mean? It’s what I want, more than anything else.’

  They flew back to Santoros in Milos’s private plane two days later.

  Helen’s mother was installed in the back of the plane in the double bed that Milos sometimes used on long-haul journeys, and with an agency nurse on hand to attend to her every need. Milos wasn’t sure how she felt about the fact that her daughter had agreed to marry one of her ex-husband’s associates, but thankfully she’d agreed to being transported to Milos’s villa to complete her recuperation. Maybe she’d realised that, as Milos was a wealthy man, her life was going to be considerably easier from now on. Whatever, he was cynically aware that Sheila’s attitude had changed as soon as she’d discovered who he was, and he wasn’t averse to looking a gift horse in the mouth.

  So long as Helen was happy, that was all that mattered to him. And she was, deliriously so, and she’d given in her notice at Greenaway Engineering.

  She’d gone on her own to tell Mark Greenaway. Even though Milos had desperately wanted to go with her, to stake his claim so to speak, he’d contained his jealousy and let her go alone. He wanted her to know he trusted her just as much as she trusted him.

  Naturally, they’d told no one about Melissa. Until Helen had spoken to Melissa herself, that would remain a secret. Milos had no idea how the girl would take it, but, whatever happened, they were a family now and that had to mean something. Especially to her.

  The Jetstream landed at the nearest airport to Santoros, and Milos’s helicopter was waiting to transport them the last few miles to the island.

  ‘Tired?’ he asked his fiancée gently, catching her hand as she was about to follow her mother up the steps and into the aircraft. He was mindful of the fact that the last couple of nights they’d spent together had hardly been restful, and he blamed himself for the half-moons of darkness that marred her soft cheeks. ‘We’ll be there soon.’

  ‘No more tired than you,’ she told him huskily, reaching up to bestow a warm kiss at the corner of his mouth. ‘I ache a bit, perhaps. But it’s a good ache. I like it.’

  The rush Milos felt then was purely carnal, and his fingers dug into her palm. ‘You shouldn’t say things like that when I can’t do anything about them,’ he told her unevenly. His eyes darkened. ‘I can’t wait to show you our bedroom at the villa.’

  ‘Would that be your bedroom?’ asked Helen primly, and he couldn’t prevent himself from nipping her bottom as she went up the steps.

  ‘No, that would be our bedroom,’ he corrected her thickly. ‘Go on. Your mother’s waiting.’

  Melissa was waiting for them at Vassilios. She and Stelios came to greet them as soon as the helicopter touched down. The pilot let down the steps and Milos went ahead to assist his future mother-in-law to alight. Sheila looked a little tired, too, he noticed with some concern, but then Melissa saw them and came running towards them.

  ‘Hey, Gran,’ she exclaimed, offering Milos a bright smile of welcome, too, before giving her grandmother a swift hug. ‘Travelling in style, eh?’

  Sheila patted Melissa’s shoulder. ‘Yes, wasn’t it kind of Milos to offer me his villa to recuperate in? Still, I suppose I’ll get used to coming here from now on.’

  Melissa looked puzzled. ‘Will you?’ she said, looking at Milos a little confusedly. And then, remembering her manners, she added, ‘So, how are you? Is your arm really broken?’

  ‘It’s really broken,’ agreed Sheila smugly as Milos endeavoured to catch her eye. But she seemed determined not to look at him and he waited apprehensively for her to say something she shouldn’t.

  Then, to his relief, Helen emerged from the helicopter just ahead of the nurse, and Melissa hesitated only a moment before going to meet her mother. But Milos saw her glance curiously over her shoulder as she went and he was briefly reminded of the problems Sam had said he’d had with his ex-wife.

  ‘We haven’t told Melissa about our engagement yet,’ he said quickly, in a low voice, and Sheila glanced up at him with wide, enquiring eyes.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘We haven’t had the chance.’

  ‘There are telephones on Santoros, aren’t there?’ Sheila was irritatingly precise. ‘You might even have cell phones, for all I know.’

  ‘We wanted to tell her together,’ said Milos, between his teeth. ‘Do me—do us both the favour of keeping our relationship to yourself. At least for the time being.’

  Sheila arched a mocking brow. ‘Was this Helen’s idea? To keep your relationship a secret? Or yours?’

  ‘It’s not a secret,’ said Milos grimly. ‘We intend to tell her tonight.’

  ‘If you say so.’ Sheila sounded uninterested now, casting a glance about her, her eyes alighting on Stelios where he hovered a few yards away. ‘Is that your butler, Milos? I’d be grateful if he could show me to my room.’

  Milos hid a smile at the thought of what Stelios would think of being called a ‘butler’. But it was a relief to have an excuse to usher the woman into the house. Susie Peel, Sheila’s nurse, hurried to join them, and by the time Helen and Melissa reached him the others were already crossing the terrace.

  ‘Is Mum staying here, too?’ asked Melissa as the three of them started towards the villa.

  Helen cast a quick look at Milos before saying, ‘I thought I might.’

  ‘Oh, good. That means I can stay here, too, doesn’t it?’ Melissa asked, looking up at Milos. ‘I don’t know what Sam’s going to say, but I expect he’ll get over it.’

  ‘Well, he wouldn’t want your gran staying with him,’ murmured Helen drily, and felt Milos’s hand brush reassuringly against hers as they reached the entrance to the villa.

  ‘No, I guess not.’ Melissa grimaced. ‘Oh, well, would you mind if I went and told Gran what’s going on? I want to see what she thinks of her room. Andrea’s given her a super view, right on the sea.’

  Helen looked at Milos for confirmation. ‘That would be okay, wouldn’t it?’ she said. ‘Then perhaps you could show me where I’m going to sleep.’

  Melissa halted then. ‘Yeah, I’d like to see that, too,’ she said. ‘I expect it’s one of the rooms near mine. But all the rooms are beautiful here,’ she appended, half enviously. ‘Go figure.’

  ‘Why don’t you go and find Andrea instead and ask her what time she expects to serve lunch?’ Milos suggested, in no hurry to push Melissa into her grandmother’s company again. ‘You can see your grandmother after she gets settled in.’

  Melissa’s lips pursed for a moment. ‘Why?’ she asked, with a trace of her previous belligerence. ‘Is there some reason why I shouldn’t go and see her?’ She hesitated. ‘She is okay, isn’t she? She’s not going to—like, die, or anything?’

  ‘Of course not,’ said Helen, and Milos could see she, too, was puzzled by his attitude. ‘But if that’s what—Milos wants you to do—’

  ‘Oh, all right.’ But Melissa was sulky now. ‘I just hope I’m not going to have to stick to a whole lot of rules while we’re staying here. If so, I’d rather go back to the vineyard. Even if Maya hates me.’

  ‘Maya doesn’t hate you,’ said Helen at once, and Milos decided it was time he told them both something they needed to know.

  ‘Maya’s not
so bad when you get to know her,’ he said levelly. ‘But the vineyard’s important to her, and when you and your mother turned up she was afraid that Sam might change his mind about leaving it to Alex.’

  Melissa’s jaw dropped. ‘You mean she’s afraid Sam might make Mum his heir?’

  ‘Something like that,’ agreed Milos, unable to resist laying a possessive hand on Helen’s shoulder, but Melissa didn’t notice. She was too intent on what he’d said.

  ‘But that’s silly,’ she said. ‘Mum knows nothing about growing grapes or making wine, whereas Alex has done it all his life.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Milos nodded.

  ‘I had no idea,’ said Helen then, and he could tell she’d been stunned by his revelation. ‘So that was why—’

  ‘She was so keen to get rid of you?’ Milos pulled a wry face. ‘Like someone else I know, she’s inclined to speak out of turn.’

  ‘Do you mean me?’ demanded Melissa indignantly, but Milos only reached out and tugged on the fringe that now strayed across her forehead.

  ‘No,’ he said gently. ‘Now, are you going to go and see Andrea, as I requested?’

  When Melissa had left them, Milos swiftly drew Helen into his study. Then, after closing and locking the door, he pulled her into his arms and buried his face in the scented hollow of her shoulder.

  ‘Theos, I needed that,’ he said, when he lifted his head to look down at her. ‘You have no idea how much.’

  Helen was nothing if not perceptive. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. ‘Has something happened?’ She paused. ‘Sam isn’t creating problems, is he?’

  ‘Well, not yet,’ said Milos drily. ‘How he’ll feel when I tell him about Melissa is another matter.’

  ‘I’ll tell him,’ Helen offered at once, but Milos shook his head.

  ‘No. I have to do that,’ he said determinedly. ‘That’s my problem. Your mother is ours.’

  Helen’s shoulders sagged. ‘What did she do?’