Greek Affairs: In His Bed: Sleeping with a Stranger / Blackmailed into the Greek Tycoon's Bed / Bedded by the Greek Billionaire

Doubt momentarily crossed her sun-kissed features, but then she kicked off her high heels and started down the stone steps. She glanced back at him once, and he despised himself for the rush of emotion he felt when she half smiled at him. Theos, this wasn’t supposed to be a pleasure trip. Here he was, humouring her, when he knew she was deliberately evading his questions.

Yet as he watched her descend the steps their fractured past was not the first thing he thought of. Her skirt swung about her long legs and he knew he couldn’t wait to see her in one of the skimpy suits Rhea kept here for her own use. But sooner or later she was going to have to answer his questions, he assured himself. All he had to do was exercise a little patience, and there was no law that said he couldn’t enjoy the process.

She emerged from the largest cabana a few minutes later. He’d half expected her to have second thoughts when she saw the swimsuits, but she evidently thought a swim could buy her a little more time.

The suit she’d chosen was a dark blue and white outfit, its close-fitting top barely skimming her midriff, the bikini briefs cut high on her hip. Faint colour, which couldn’t be blamed on the sun, tinged her cheeks when she found him waiting for her, but she swiftly moved to the side of the pool and executed a perfect dive into the water.

Milos was impressed. It was soon obvious that she was a strong swimmer. Instead of surfacing after the dive, she swam an impressive distance underwater before her head appeared again.

Milos was relieved to see her. Even though he’d been sure she was all right, it was good to have his confidence restored. He watched her strike out strongly for the other end of the pool before somersaulting a turn and starting back. Her body cleaved surely through the water, her arms rising and falling in an almost hypnotic rhythm.

Despite himself, Milos descended the steps so that he was in her line of vision. She couldn’t help but see him waiting for her, his feet parted, his arms folded across his chest. If it was a gesture of defence, he was unaware of it. He wanted to disconcert her, to let her feel the insistent pull she was having on his senses.

Helen ignored him, however. When she reached the end where he was standing, she simply repeated the somersault she’d turned at the other end of the pool and swam back the way she’d come.

Milos was infuriated. The heat around the pool was palpable and he cast an irritated glance towards the sun. He must be crazy, he thought, exposing himself to possible sunstroke just to make a point. She was determined to ignore him, it seemed. He would have to think of something else.

He had already unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it free of his jeans before he acknowledged she was driving him crazy. Kicking off the boots he’d originally worn to ride the Harley, he unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his legs. Kicking the jeans off, too, he hooked his thumbs into his boxers. And then hesitated. In deference to his guest’s sensibilities, Milos didn’t go any further. As she swam steadily towards him he dived into the water, emerging only inches from her stroking arms.

The splash he made caused her to lose her rhythm. She flailed about for a few moments before she realised what he’d done. Treading water, she stared indignantly at him, almost as if he had no right to use the pool, before turning abruptly towards the steps.

‘Wait!’

Milos caught her arm as she would have swum away from him. She struggled for a moment before realising she was wasting her time and Milos took advantage of her acquiescence to bring her back to him. He’d let her go when he chose, not her, he thought grimly, but already his flesh was betraying him.

He couldn’t help but be aware of how soft her skin felt beneath his fingers. Even the slight pressure he was exerting was bringing the dusky blush of colour to a limb that was as smooth and fine as silk. When she looked up at him, her water-spiked lashes caused her eyes to shimmer so that he couldn’t see what she was thinking. But he certainly knew what her nearness was doing to him.

‘What do you want?’ she demanded, and he wondered if he only imagined the faint tremor in her voice. Then, with a suddenly indrawn breath, ‘Are you wearing anything at all?’

Her words were so unexpected that Milos felt a reluctant grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘What kind of a question is that?’

‘A fairly simple one,’ she retorted, sweeping back her wet hair with her free hand. ‘I didn’t see you go into the cabana.’

‘That’s because I didn’t,’ Milos acknowledged, noticing how the water had darkened her blonde hair so that it clung to her head like a golden cap. ‘Does it matter?’

He could see that she wanted to object, but she was determined not to give him any advantage. ‘Not to me,’ she replied tightly, using her legs to ensure she kept a distance between them. ‘It’s not as if it’s something I haven’t seen before.’

Milos resented that. And whatever she said, he knew she wasn’t as blasé about his proximity as she would like him to believe. Nevertheless, he was still prepared to be generous. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘But just to reassure you, I can tell you I’m not totally naked.’

‘Big deal.’ She made a careless gesture. ‘But just for the record, I don’t care.’ She shrugged. ‘And you have to admit, it’s just the sort of stunt you would pull.’

‘So you think I’m lying?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘But you think it,’ he snapped, suppressing the urge to shake her. He took a deep breath. ‘You can trust me. I’m not lying.’

‘Whatever.’

The careless dismissal was humiliating. And when she turned her head away, looking resignedly towards the steps, his temper snapped. He’d been more than patient so far, he assured himself. But she was determined to provoke him.

Without really thinking of the consequences, he jerked her towards him. Wrapping one of his legs about both of hers, he brought her into intimate contact with his lower body. Then, scowling down at her, he said, ‘Now do you believe me?’

He’d taken her by surprise and her initial response was to wrap a startled arm about his shoulders to keep her balance. Her fingers clutched wildly at the hair at the back of his neck, her slim body curling instinctively into his.

He felt his own arousal only seconds before she felt it, too. Tiny globules of moisture were trembling on the slopes of her breasts that were only inches below his gaze. She was so close in fact, that he could feel the betraying thrust of her nipples nudging his chest, the taut fabric of the vest top only adding to the intimacy.

Suddenly, he wanted to see her naked. His thumbs itched to hook inside the sexy top and pull it forcefully to her waist. He knew the bikini briefs would offer no obstruction. It would be a simple matter to dispose of them in the same way.

He tried to steady his roiling senses. This was not why he’d brought her here, he reminded himself. Getting overheated wasn’t going to solve anything.

But holding her like this, feeling her limbs twisting frantically against him, brought back memories of why he’d acted so uncharacteristically all those years ago. He’d never been the kind of man to use sex indiscriminately, and it was only the raw attraction she’d aroused in him that had caused him to act in such a reckless way. From the moment they’d met, she’d exerted a powerful pull on his senses, and making love with her had been as natural as breathing to him.

With thoughts like these filling his head, he should have resisted going any further. A saner man—a more calculating man—would have used the situation to his advantage and asked her outright who Melissa’s father was. In her present state of agitation, he doubted she’d have had time to fabricate an answer, and even if she’d denied his involvement her reaction would have given her away.

Or so he believed.

But instead, when she grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back, all he saw was red. With her hot breath panting in his ear and the spaghetti straps falling down her arms and pulling her top perilously close to total exposure, all he could think about was retaliation. The uncontrollable rush of blood to his groin was the final straw and all thought of letting her go became academic.

‘Ya Theos, keep still,’ he muttered, making a futile attempt to control his emotions. But when he looked into her flushed face, he was lost. With her soft lips parted and a hectic blush rising in her cheeks, she was irresistible, and he knew it. With a groan of defeat, he gave in to the driving need inside him and, bending his head, he captured her lips with his.

CHAPTER TEN

HELEN’S lips parted beneath his, and, moving his hand to the back of her neck, Milos deepened the kiss. Pushing his tongue between her teeth, he completely forgot that it was only his efforts that were keeping them afloat. Without anything to keep them buoyant, they sank to the bottom of the pool, their mouths still glued together.

It was an incredible experience. Milos knew he had never felt anything like the dizzying exultation that filled his head when Helen’s fingers curled around his nape, denoting her submission, and not even the buzzing in his ears, reminding him of his lack of oxygen, prevented an urgent surge of need from sweeping over him.

His hand trailed down her body, grazing the hard peaks of her breasts before fastening on the slender bones of her pelvis. He parted his legs, bringing her more fully into him, letting her feel the turgid pressure of his erection. He rubbed himself against her, but his lungs were labouring for air, and, judging by Helen’s submissive behaviour, she wasn’t about to save them. With a feeling of regret, he pushed down with his feet and sent them rising steadily to the surface.

Within seconds she had torn herself away from him. Splashing wildly through the water, she made for the steps out of the pool. And, because Milos took rather longer to recover, she’d stumbled out of the water before he could stop her.

She paused once, bending forward as if the effort had defeated her. She was coughing, her hands braced on her knees, trying to suck air into her burning lungs. Then she turned to give him a tortured look.

‘You—crazy—fool,’ she got out with difficulty, her voice made husky by her distress. ‘What in God’s name did you think you were doing?’

Milos took a deep breath and swam smoothly to the side. ‘Well, not trying to drown you,’ he said wearily as she retreated up the steps. ‘Stop panicking. No harm has been done.’

‘Just—stay away from me,’ she told him unsteadily, but he could tell from the way her eyes flicked to the row of cabanas that she was undecided what to do next. Safety might lie in the villa, but her clothes were in the cabana.

Spreading his arms wide, to indicate she had nothing to fear from him, Milos climbed out of the pool. Unlike her, apparently, he was still suffering the after-effects of that kiss, and like her he took a few moments to steady his breathing.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said at last, though it pained him to say it. ‘I suppose you think that shouldn’t have happened.’

‘Damn right!’ Her voice quivered, but he could see she was determined not to back down.

Milos lifted his shoulders. ‘Then you shouldn’t have provoked me.’

Helen gave an indignant snort. ‘Because I asked if you were wearing—swimming gear?’ she exclaimed hotly.