His Greek Wedding Night Debt (Mills & Boon Modern)

by Michelle Smart

Cursing under her breath, Helena put one foot in front of the other and followed the trail left by Theo’s scooter.

  If she’d known she was going to have to walk she’d have grabbed her trainers from her suitcase before it was whipped away. She’d have taken her sunhat too and applied more sunscreen.

  It was late afternoon but the sun still blazed down. She could feel its rays penetrating her scalp and thought what an excellent start to her stay sunstroke would be.

  Minutes later she’d folded her skirt up at the waist, undone the top three buttons of her shirt, tied the bottom into a knot around her belly and rolled the sleeves up, yet she still felt as if she’d been placed in a boil-in-the-bag.

  She was still cursing both her own stubbornness and Theo’s deviousness under her shortening breath ten minutes later when she heard the scooter’s distinctive engine nearing.

  Theo stopped in front of her again. She was quite sure she looked exactly as she felt—like she was melting from the inside out—while Theo looked as fresh as if he’d just showered and dressed. The black shorts and khaki polo shirt he wore didn’t have a speck of road dust on them.

  After a long silence he tilted his head and fixed her with a stare that suggested she was behaving like a recalcitrant child. ‘Ready to accept a lift now? Or should I do another lap of the peninsula first?’

  Helena’s feet were killing her. She’d been on the verge of kicking off her stupid shoes and walking barefoot. Her throat was parched. All the moisture in her body had seeped out and clung to her skin.

  But she really, really, really didn’t want to get on the back of that scooter.

  Three years ago they had spent a month on this island travelling everywhere by scooter, her face pressed against Theo’s back, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. She had loved every minute of it.

  ‘Last chance,’ he warned with a raised brow.

  She shifted her stance and winced as her shoe inadvertently rubbed against the brand-new blister on the heel of her right foot.

  Theo saw the wince, tutted and shook his head sadly. ‘It is incredible how the most intelligent people are always the most stubborn.’

  ‘Your IQ must be sky high,’ she muttered.

  He grinned broadly. ‘I thank you for the compliment.’

  ‘It wasn’t a...’ She sighed, filling her lungs with yet more hot air, which dried her throat that little bit more.

  She gave up.

  Glaring at him one more time for luck, Helena stepped out of her shoes and swapped them for the helmet in the box. Only when the helmet was secure on her head did she attempt to get on the back of the scooter.

  Why had she chosen to wear such a tight skirt? The only way to get her legs to part enough to climb on was to hitch it up to her hips.

  ‘Can you look away, please?’ she asked stiffly.

  Amusement danced in his eyes but he did as she asked.

  Cheeks burning with humiliation, Helena quickly yanked her skirt up and hopped on with a flexibility that took her by surprise. She’d forgotten how nimble she used to be.

  But getting onto the back of the scooter was only the first challenge. The second challenge was how to hold on without touching Theo.

  The blasted man read her mind. ‘You need to hold on to me, agapi mou, just as you used to do.’

  Gritting her teeth, she placed her hands gingerly on his waist.

  ‘I don’t bite,’ he said, then lowered his gravelly voice to add at the exact same time that she tightened her hold a fraction, ‘Not unless you ask me very nicely.’

  There was no time for her to jump off or make a retort for Theo squeezed the throttle and they were off. The motion made her lose her balance and, frightened of being thrown off, she pressed herself into his back and clung on tightly.

  He drove them over the narrow tracks, expertly avoiding potholes and other hazards such as random goats. Helena closed her eyes and tried to trick her mind into ignoring the broad back her face was pressed against.

  He steered the scooter to the left. She leaned in with him, her thighs squeezing automatically against his. His back muscles bunched against her cheek.

  When had she joined her hands together across his hard, flat stomach? It wasn’t possible for her to hold on any tighter.

  She forgot to breathe through her mouth. The scent of laundry soap from his T-shirt and his cologne coiled into her airways. It was a woody smell that always evoked thoughts of deep forests.

  She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter and tried to block out everything, but it had become impossible. The vibrations of the scooter and the solidity and warmth of Theo had transported her back in time to the summer when she’d...

  ‘You can let go now.’

  Theo’s gravelly voice cut through her desperate, futile mind-block.

  Helena opened one eye cautiously.

  They’d arrived at the dwelling he’d pointed to earlier.

  And she was still pressed against him.

  A burst of panic crashed through her. Yanking her hands away from his waist, she swung her left leg in a backward arch and virtually threw herself off the scooter. She would undoubtedly have face-planted the ground had Theo not caught hold of her arm at the last second.

  Falling would almost have been preferable.

  The impact of Theo’s touch was immediate. The pads of four fingers and a thumb holding her forearm sent what felt like a thousand volts of pure electricity charging through her skin and firing into her veins, making her heart accelerate and her breathing shorten.

  And then she was caught in his ice-blue stare. Her accelerating heart and shallow breaths froze in suspended animation. Time itself became suspended.

  She couldn’t break away from the trap of his stare, and in that suspended moment had no desire to break from it, her eyes suddenly thirsty to drink in the face of the man she had once loved with all her heart. There was that groove in his forehead, indented with both laughter and his childhood bicycle accident, which had been practically identical to her own, only the resulting injuries being different. There was his wide mouth, always curved upwards and never far from making a quip, which had flattened into a straight line. His nostrils flared, the pupils of his ice-blue eyes dilated and pulsed...

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IT WAS THE tingling between her legs that brought Helena to her senses, a damp ache she hadn’t felt for so long that she’d forgotten she’d ever experienced it. A frisson of it had shot through her when he’d whispered in her ear that stupid quip about her owing him a wedding night—as if—but she’d shoved it aside, refused to acknowledge it, refused to give him the satisfaction of responding to his mind-games.

  She had to keep a sane head on her shoulders. Theo was dangerous. For all his convivial, amusing persona, he had a ruthless streak that would make Machiavelli proud. His actions bringing her here proved that better than anything.

  Wrenching her stare from his, she shook his hand off her arm, took a step back and cleared her parched throat. ‘Is this my base?’ Theo’s PA had confirmed Helena would be staying in a newly built staffed lodge on the peninsula for the duration. Further lodgings would be built in the coming months to accommodate the team who would build the mansion that would rise like a monolith on the site.

  It mattered not what best practice was, Theo wanted Helena living and working on the site. His deep pockets ensured that whatever Theo wanted, Theo got.

  ‘It is.’ He climbed off the scooter and stretched his back. ‘I’ll show you around.’

  Inside, she found the lodgings to be much more luxurious than she’d anticipated. The scent of fresh paint permeated the air.

  ‘Let me introduce you to my housekeepers, Elli and Natassa.’ He steamed ahead through the wide reception room and led her to a large, hi-tech kitchen.

  Helena wished she could feel an ounce of surprise to find the h
ousekeepers were two stunning women of around her age. Theo liked variety, she thought bitterly, and he loved to be loved. His ego demanded it. What better way to dig the knife into his ex than to employ two beautiful, glamorous women to look after her? Which one was he sleeping with? The blonde? The redhead? Both?

  Forcing a smile and then fighting to hold it as well as keeping down the nausea roiling in her stomach, she shook hands with them both.

  In no time at all, a tall glass of water with ice and fresh lemon slices in it was thrust into her hand and a plate of sweet Greek pastries extended.

  ‘They look lovely,’ she said politely. She would not be rude to these women nor allow herself to harbour bad feelings for them. It wasn’t their fault Theo had brought them here and was using them in his sadistic mind-games. ‘But would you mind if I go to my room before I eat? I could do with freshening up.’ And she could really do with some time away from Theo. With any luck, he would leave soon for his home in Athens or, most likely, his home in Agon.

  ‘I’ll show you to it,’ Theo said before either of the housekeepers could answer. He strode out of the kitchen and through the main living area to the back of the lodge, forcing her to walk double-quick to keep up. He paused to push a door open. ‘This is your office. You can arrange it to your liking tomorrow.’ She’d barely caught a glimpse of it before he steamed on through an archway.

  ‘Our living quarters,’ he said casually.

  There were two doors here, facing each other.

  ‘Our?’ she asked a beat later.

  He met her stare. A knowing, lazy smile tugged at his mouth. ‘Nai, agapi mou. Our living quarters.’ Eyes glimmering, he nodded at the right-hand door. ‘Your room...’ His head turned to the left-hand door. ‘My room.’

  Temporarily dumbstruck, she had to force herself to speak. ‘You’re staying here too?’

  ‘But of course,’ Theo purred. ‘This way I am here and available any time you need me...’ He let his words hang before adding, ‘Day or night.’

  Her silent fury was magnificent to behold. Her face was practically contorted with the weight of it. It was a long time before she said, ‘I was under the impression I would be staying here with only your staff.’

  ‘I know you were.’ He winked and opened her door. ‘I was being considerate.’

  She snorted her disbelief.

  He strode into the bedroom he’d had designed with Helena in mind. ‘I thought you had enough to think about. If you knew I was staying here too it would have put you under additional pressure.’

  ‘Or seen me pulling out.’ She glared at him from the threshold, making no attempt to cross it.

  He shook his head sadly. ‘You had too much to lose for that to happen.’ And even more to lose if she called it quits now. He’d paid Staffords and Helena the promised substantial down payment. In return they’d signed a watertight contract which tied Helena to him until he deemed the architectural plans complete. If she attempted to leave before that time, Staffords and Helena would be liable to repay the down payment plus interest.

  He had her over a barrel, exactly where he wanted her. And, from the fire blazing in her eyes, she knew it too.

  He waited with eager anticipation for her fury to boil over.

  He was to be disappointed. Speaking through clearly gritted teeth, she said, ‘If we have to share a roof, then fine, but I tell you now, I will not be sharing a bed with you.’

  ‘Did I say anything about us sharing a bed?’ he asked with mock innocence. ‘But, seeing as you’re the one thinking it, I tell you now that you’re welcome to share my bed any time you like.’

  ‘Not in a million years,’ she spluttered.

  He laughed. ‘Is that a challenge?’

  ‘It’s a statement of fact. I’m here to work, not be cheap entertainment for you.’

  ‘No one could ever call you cheap, agapi mou.’

  She finally stepped into the room and stood before him, arms folded over the wonderful breasts he remembered as clearly as if he’d looked at them that morning. ‘This is my bedroom, yes?’

  He folded his arms in mimicry. ‘All yours.’

  ‘Then you will respect that this is my personal space. You do not enter unless invited, got it?’

  ‘So you are already thinking of inviting me in?’

  ‘No!’ Her hands clenched beside her breasts and she inhaled deeply before muttering, ‘You’re impossible.’

  ‘Another compliment,’ he said with a wink, knowing perfectly well she meant it as nothing of the sort.

  ‘Is there a pharmacist on the island?’

  ‘Of course.’ The randomness of the question bemused him.

  ‘Good.’

  ‘What do you need?’

  ‘Some painkillers. You’re giving me a headache.’

  Throwing his head back, Theo roared with laughter. Since his parents’ death, Helena was the one person other than his grandparents who had never taken his crap. Her insouciance had delighted him. It still delighted him.

  He noted her lips twitching and when he caught her eye he saw the sparkle in it before she turned her face away. His mirth grew. Helena was trying to conceal her own amusement, the minx.

  ‘I will leave you to settle in. You should have everything you need but if there’s anything missing, let Natassa or Elli know and they will sort it out for you.’

  Helena tightened her towel around her chest and, for the third time, rifled through her huge walk-in wardrobe hoping that something different would have magically appeared. Eventually she settled on a dark green skirt and a cream top, the least businesslike of her clothing. Unfortunately she, in her stubborn wisdom, had packed only business clothes and a few items to wear for lounging around in the evenings. She’d selected her clothes blissfully unaware she would be sharing a roof with Mr Ego for the duration. Blissfully unaware because he’d designed it that way. The fiend. Her intention to work seven days a week to get the plans drawn up only strengthened.

  She could kill Theo. Happily kill him. The vast majority of the three hours Helena had been hiding out in her room had been spent imagining the variety of ways in which she could bump him off. She would write a list, she decided, and let him choose for himself.

  Thoughts of murder had to wait while she got ready. Natassa had checked in on her to ask for her approval over dinner, which would be served shortly.

  It was only when Helena was checking her make-up for smudges that she realised she’d even applied it. She hurriedly wiped it all off. Theo and his humungous ego would think she’d dolled herself up for him, which was absolutely not the case. Not in the slightest. To make that point even clearer, she tipped her head upside down and shook her hair until it resembled a messy beehive.

  Et voila!

  One last look in the mirror assured her she looked dreadful.

  If this didn’t repel him and make clear that she’d rather get intimate with a corpse than him, nothing would.

  Natassa greeted her in the kitchen with a wide smile. ‘Good timing. Your starter is ready. We have set the table for you on the terrace—is that okay, or would you prefer to eat inside?’

  ‘Outside would be great, thanks...assuming Theo’s okay with that?’ There was no reason on earth that Helena uttering his name should make her heart skip a beat.

  The slightest crease marred Natassa’s beautiful brow. ‘Why would he not be okay with that?’

  ‘Because he might prefer to eat indoors.’

  ‘He isn’t here. He took the yacht back to Agon.’ The crease in her brow deepened. ‘I think he’s gone to a party. Wherever he is, he will be back tomorrow. Lunchtime. I think.’

  ‘You think?’

  A shrug. ‘He was vague about timings. I am not paid to question him.’

  Helena wasn’t being paid to question him either, or care that he’d left her on her
first night so he could go out and party, something she kept reminding herself as she ate her meal on the terrace with only the crickets for company.

  Helena didn’t care about eating alone. She was used to eating alone. A solo three-course meal that would be worthy of a Michelin-starred restaurant was nothing to complain about. She’d left her flat that morning expecting to eat every meal alone for the foreseeable future. The food and accommodation were a hundred times better than expected, but in the being-left-alone stakes she’d been right.

  Theo must have been winding her up about his staying at the lodge with her. Playing another of his little mind-games.

  Let him play. She didn’t care.

  She didn’t care at all. She especially didn’t care that he was, at that moment, partying hard, no doubt with some clothes horse draped all over him and that he most definitely would not be alone when he awoke.

  When she released her clenched fists, she resolutely ignored the indentations left by her fingernails in her palms.

  ‘Triple-aspect windows for the master suite?’ Helena clarified. To her great relief, she was able to utter the words ‘master suite’ without her voice catching.

  This first on-site discussion about Theo’s requirements and wishes for his new home had been much harder than she’d envisaged. Three years ago, before the top of the hill they were standing on had been flattened in preparation for the monolith that would be built on it, the dream had been for this to be their home.

  Heads pressed together, they had whispered in the dark for hours, night after night, about the home they’d build. They’d planned the layout, teasing each other about who should have the biggest office and the biggest dressing room. Theo had teased her over the extent of her leisure-use wishes, Helena wanting only a steam room, while he wanted a full-blown gym, two swimming pools, a tennis court, a cinema room and a sprawling games room with its own bar.

  Were her memories playing her false or was everything Theo was describing in that expansive way of his exactly as they had whispered during those late-night plotting sessions?

  The master suite, with his-and-hers bathrooms and his-and-hers dressing rooms and triple-aspect windows giving an unblemished view of the Mediterranean, had been exactly as they had dreamed up together.