by Dani Collins
Her skin tingled under the hot suck of his lips. He splayed his other hand over her naked breast under her shirt. Her flesh felt swollen and hard. His palm abraded her nipple. Glittering lines of sensation shot into her abdomen and lower.
Her hips bucked of their own accord, answering his movements, seeking that hard, hard ridge against the bundle of nerves pulled so tight she couldn’t bear it. So close. So hot. So tense. She felt as though she’d been ignoring thirst and suddenly, here was the water, promising a quench that was a type of absolution. She needed it, needed more of him. Needed that, the elusive thing hovering just out of reach, closer, nearly in her grasp.
She tightened her hand in his, urging him with her grinding hips. Begging.
She wasn’t really letting this happen right here, against a wall, behind a rush of water with a man she barely knew, was she? Was she?
Oh, yes. She was.
Release struck in a flash of heat and a rush of shivery joy. She lost herself to the moment, falling apart, soaring and flying. She might have fallen down if not held in place by his strength and the hard pin of his weight and that relentless press of his hips that shot sensation through her again and again.
Distantly she realized she was making animalistic noises. Her free hand went to his lower back, encouraging his dying movements while he cupped her jaw and set nibbling kisses against the corners of her panting mouth, saying, “Beautiful. So gorgeous.” His tongue slid against her bottom lip like he was taking a final taste of an excellent meal. His body was so tense he quivered with strain. The heady fragrance of male sweat surrounded her, sexy and compelling.
She felt drugged. Her breath was uneven, her pulse fluttering. She couldn’t believe he had done that to her, fully clothed. Or that she was still so aroused. If anything her skin was more sensitized and desperate for his touch, her loins even more achy with want.
She opened her eyes and looked into the earthy brown of his, read desire, but humor, too. He wasn’t as lost to passion as she was.
It was a blow. Even more of one when he said, “Are you a virgin?”
“I know that’s not how you get pregnant!” She gave him a shove, but he barely moved. His thick, aroused flesh sat against her tingling mound, only the thin layer of his board shorts and the seam of her cotton ones between. “I thought you were as caught up as I was and might try to...” Her voice dried up. She had to strain to find sound again. “Apparently not.”
She gave him another shove, not caring how good he’d made her feel physically. She wouldn’t forgive him for playing with her like a toy.
He only cupped her throat, thumb moving with lazy eroticism beneath her ear while he told her in explicit detail what he wanted to do to her. “But I don’t have a condom, so we’ll have to find other ways to appease ourselves, won’t we?”
His eyes were nearly black, they were so dark. His mouth held a line of wicked intent that bordered on cruel. But his kiss was tender and incredibly sweet after the storm of sensuality she’d endured. Her lips clung to his, encouraging him to linger. Inviting him. Capitulating...
The scrape of the screen door into the house sounded and a male voice called, “Calli.” It was an equally harsh scrape across her nerve endings.
Stavros drew back enough to frown. “Who’s that?”
“Takis.” She looked past his shoulder, through the blur of the curtain, to see Takis pause outside the door as though looking for her. She pushed at Stavros.
He didn’t move. “Get rid of him.”
Seriously? “He’s my boss.”
Stavros glared at her, backed off enough to glance down to where his shorts were tented and bit out a dissatisfied curse.
He threw himself through the thin waterfall into the pool.
* * *
Stavros came to the surface in time to see a flustered Calli moving toward a silver-haired man in a suit. He kissed her cheek, but it was a distracted greeting. His frowning gaze lingered on her blushing face before fixing on Stavros with open hostility.
“Who is that?”
“Stavros. He’s fixing the tiles.”
“From the water?”
It was a singular experience for Stavros to be spoken about when he was right here, listening, especially in such a dismayed, dismissive fashion. Like he wasn’t good enough to be in this man’s world, let alone his pool.
The denigration was enough to cool his ardor, but made him want to laugh at the same time. Do you know who I am?
Takis probably regarded himself as quite wealthy and powerful, but he would very soon be selling this country cabin to Stavros for what amounted to pocket change.
There was more that Stavros instantly disliked. The man kept his arm looped around Calli’s waist as he watched Stavros climb from the pool.
Whatever he needs me to be.
A surge of something ripped through Stavros. Jealous rage? The thought scored a direct hit in a way the condescension hadn’t.
He reacted reflexively, walking tall as he approached, shoulders set, oblivious to the water sluicing off his sopping T-shirt and shorts, puddling with each footstep as he advanced, about to go on the attack. Eager for it.
He was not only the heir to a fortune, but the bold, innovative president of a multinational corporation who had exponentially increased the reach and value of that entity into the stratosphere. In becoming that man, he had learned to exert his will over a tyrant whose autocratic nature matched his own. Nothing held him back. Nothing was unattainable. Men like Takis weren’t even breakfast. They were a protein bar washed down with a swish of water on the way to a morning workout.
A frown of alarm pulled between Calli’s brows, like she wasn’t sure she recognized him.
In that second, he remembered the bet. Five more days of playing pool boy. He bit back an imprecation.
No matter which guise he wore, Stavros Xenakis was no lame quitter, but he wasn’t about to bow and scrape before Calli’s boss. Or pretend that Calli was anything except his. Takis could delude himself all he wanted. She had fallen apart against him.
Stavros conveyed that message as he extended his hand.
“Takis. Nice to meet you. Thanks for the dip. I needed to cool off.” He let his gaze cut to Calli’s, allowing them both to see he was remembering how she had climaxed from merely the tease of sex. How would she react when they were naked and he was inside her? Would she scream?
She blushed ferociously. “I’ll leave you to show Takis your work,” she choked. “Coffee?” she offered her boss.
“Thank you.” He released her, face hard, eyes diamond sharp.
Takis didn’t say much as he took in the work Stavros had completed thus far. The broken tiles were gone, Ionnes having removed the bin from the front late last week. Since then, Stavros had been laying the new ones, and he was taking as much care and pride as he would if the house were his own. He had already sent a text to Antonio, asking him to arrange an agent to appraise the house since he couldn’t contact his own.
Takis went into the house and Stavros went back to work, chafing at the need to be patient. He was coming down the outer stairs with a load of tiles when he overheard voices through the small, shutter-covered window above him.
“—damned sure he’s not a tile layer by trade, so who is he?”
“Ionnes wouldn’t send anyone he didn’t trust.” Something snapped, like a towel. Calli, folding laundry perhaps. “If you have concerns, tell me and I’ll relay them.”
“My concern is that you were kissing him.”
Stavros set down the tiles with care, straightening to scowl at the window.
“Are you sleeping with him? You are.” The accusation held dismay. “I can see it in your face.”
“I am not! And it’s none of your business if I was. Do I ask you why your shirts smell like perfume?”
“He’s a womanizer—”
“I know what he is.” The words burst out in a hot voice. “I know he’s only here on vacation, but there’s mo
re to him than that.”
“I’m sure there is, but whatever it is, you haven’t seen it. What happened to waiting until you married?”
“I said that for Ophelia’s sake.”
“You said that to me. And I did offer to marry you.”
The green haze returned to Stavros’s vision. His chest grew tight.
“Takis—”
“I’m not asking again,” he said impatiently. “I’m past wanting more children myself. But I expect you to shoot higher than a pool boy, Calli. You’ll starve. Is it because he’s American? I’ve told you, if you want to visit New York, I’ll take you.”
“I need more than—That’s not why—Do you think I want to feel this way?” Something slammed, like the door on a washer. “About someone only passing through? But maybe I could do with a conquest, too. Did you think of that?”
“No.” The word was flat and hard. “That is the furthest thing from who you are. He is a walk down a path you’ve already traveled. Learn from your mistakes...”
Their voices faded and Stavros picked up the tiles. He would have been amused by the blatant snobbery if it didn’t sound so much like his grandfather.
Show me you’re capable of looking to the future. Find someone worthy of carrying on our name.
Their American name.
What the hell was wrong with the name he’d been born under?
Edward Michaels had groomed Stavros to take over Dýnami Pharmaceutical, but on his terms. Stavros was sick of it. He had poured enough of his own blood and sweat into the company to have earned his place at the top, yet his grandfather kept pointing Stavros toward the bevy of potential brides in Manhattan, ordering him to select one if he wanted control of his birthright.
Stavros had been so resistant to the idea of marriage, he hadn’t looked there or anywhere else.
Suddenly, however, he had a vision of Calli circulating through that social reef. Her thick black hair and elegant figure would look stunning in a burlap sack, let alone a designer gown. In fact, even without cosmetics or a high-end hairstyle, she would stand out as exotic against all those pale, blue-eyed blondes.
None of those overworked beauties possessed so much as a hint of warmth or passion, but when he had kissed Calli, she had matched his lust breath for breath. His blood ran hot as he recalled how responsive she was. Under the hand of a talented teacher, she would be incandescent.
That sort of passion would burn out, of course, but a marriage could be temporary, too.
It hadn’t occurred to him to arrange both a marriage and a divorce when he’d been ordered by his grandfather to choose from their existing circle, but if she was a nanny from Greece with much lower expectations?
To hell with buying back his old house as a way of putting his grandfather on notice that his life was his own. There were better ways. Greek immersion, Stavros thought with wry delight. The kind that included sinking into a divine Hellenic figure every night and exchanging pillow talk in the language of his birth. He throbbed just imagining it, his skin growing tight, blood burning in his veins.
And when he considered the look on his grandfather’s face as he presented a Greek wife...
A grim smile crept across his mouth.
* * *
Calli managed to sneak out of the house as Stavros was doing a final sweep of the courtyard. Takis had been quick to follow her outside all week, getting between them and not giving her a chance to have so much as a private word with Stavros, let alone private time.
Stavros hadn’t made a concerted effort to see her, though, which had begun to erode her confidence. She was feeling bereft. Cast off, even.
It was silly. She and Stavros weren’t even lovers! Not really.
“It’s beautiful,” she told him as she gazed in wonder at the transformed courtyard.
Whether he was a certified tradesman or not, he was meticulous and talented. He had managed to replicate the subtle pattern from the driveway, which was more complex than it looked on first glance. She had spied on him while he worked, absorbed by the way he carefully measured and cut each tile, turning it this way and that to get it exactly right.
Rather than replant the trees that had broken the old tiles, he’d suggested they order pots of fragrant wisteria that would eventually climb the walls and overhead trellis. He had hung strings of white lights and now, as dusk fell, the scattered pinpricks were like stars that were close enough to touch. Pure magic.
When she brought her attention back to him, she saw he was taking in her creased shorts and scoop-neck T-shirt, which amplified her insecurity. She’d been telling herself they were on the same level, that Takis was a snob, but she was very much an island peasant while Stavros was... She wasn’t sure. More.
Somehow she knew she was outgunned.
“I, um...” Her nerve almost failed her, but each night she relived the way he’d made her feel and every morning she waited, hoping today would be the day she felt that way again. He was like a potent drug that only needed to provide one rush of ecstasy and she was hooked. It shocked her how atavistic this need was. How undeniable.
Her voice scraped from the narrow space between foolish courage and profound self-doubt. “I was going to suggest coming with you when you leave today, so I can drive the Vespa home.”
Here is my self-respect. I brought it out of the vault. Please don’t drop it.
Takis had not been impressed when he realized she was loaning out the Vespa. She hated that she had slipped a notch in his estimation, but she refused to dwell on it. She wasn’t a child this time. Takis was not her father.
She wasn’t being foolish. She was being a woman. Human.
Offering to go home with a man. For sex.
And maybe some give and take of the comfort she sensed they both needed.
“Tempting.” A muscle ticked in his jaw and his gaze held memory and smug ownership as he swept it over her. “But Ionnes is coming to pick up the last of the equipment.” He handed her the key for the scooter. “I’m riding with him, then leaving.”
“For?”
“New York.”
Déjà vu all over again.
She couldn’t help a flinch of yearning at what he might see there, in ignorance, not the least bit aware it was everything to her.
“Want to come?” he asked in a way that suggested he knew she did.
She swallowed, feeling obvious and predictable. Why had she let him see this stupid sexual crush? Why let him distract her from her goals at all? She shook her head.
“Someday.” The need to go to New York had been in every beat of her pulse for the last six years, but leaving Ophelia had grown harder over time, not easier. She hadn’t been able to justify abandoning the girl for a wild-goose chase.
But she had never managed to confirm anything solid from this side of the world. Her only choice was to go to New York without a proper lead, which meant she would need time once she got there. She would have to get a job and support herself while she hunted, which meant getting a green card. She had started the process, but it wasn’t easy, not when she was qualified for next to nothing. She had put her name in with some nanny agencies, but hadn’t heard anything.
It was daunting and added to the old fearful certainty that she wasn’t meant to be part of her son’s life.
She lifted her gaze to look Stavros in the eye. The impact was like an arrow to the chest, but she hung on to that pain to ground herself. Dating was a luxury she couldn’t afford. She had to remember that.
“Safe travels.”
“I’ll be back.” His sensual mouth lost its skew of humor as he heard her words for the final goodbye it was. “I’ll see you again. Soon.”
She snorted, having played the game of waiting and wondering before. No. She would not let herself be that stupid again. A familiar trickle of humiliation invaded her bloodstream. Fool. Maybe she was still childish and immature.
“Don’t bother. It wasn’t meant to be.” She offered a weak smile. “Take car
e.”
As she turned away, he caught at her arm. “You’re going to see me again, Calli.”
Better not. Heart ripped from its moorings, she shrugged off his touch.
“Goodbye, Stavros.” She went into the house.
CHAPTER FOUR
EVERY YEAR TAKIS celebrated his birthday with a huge bash. It happened to fall on the same day as a local festival that included fireworks on the water. He invited friends from the mainland and colleagues from his auditing firm. While he sometimes had a date for other events, for this one he always asked Calli to hostess. He rented her a gown and she stood at his side between keeping an eye on the local girls she’d brought in to serve the food she had prepared over the last two weeks. Ophelia had elected to stay with her grandparents on the mainland this year, claiming the event was hideously boring.
It was. Most of the conversation centered on finance or which hot car had been purchased by whom at what bargain price. At least Calli had done this enough times she knew most of the players and could inquire after a child or ask about the retirement party for so-and-so.
Many remarked on how nice the tiling looked around the pool, now it had been refreshed.
“Spending a lot this year, aren’t you? Boarding school, now this.” One of Takis’s fellow auditors used a sharp gaze to add up the changes.
The game among Takis’s workmates was always how little they spent, so she wasn’t surprised by his response.
“I wouldn’t have bothered, but Ionnes said he could do it at cost.”
Calli had forgotten that was how the work had been approved. She’d pressed for it to happen later in the summer, worried it wouldn’t be completed in time for this party, but Ionnes had insisted this was his only opportunity.
Because Stavros had been on his working vacation?
She was trying not to think of that man, but frowned up at Takis, wondering if he also thought it strange in retrospect.
He was looking past her, but not with his relaxed, charming host expression. He was stone-faced. Affronted.