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

Her lower lip was fuller than her upper one, and Milos knew an almost feral urge to brush his thumb across its plump contours. Relaxed, as it was now, her mouth was incredibly soft and sexy, and with amazement he found how easy it was to recall how sensuous it had felt beneath his …

Skata!

‘I think perhaps I ought to be going,’ he said abruptly, and both Sam and Maya showed their surprise.

‘But you haven’t had coffee,’ protested Sam at once, walking to the villa door and summoning the maidservant. ‘Coffee for my guests, Sofia,’ he ordered when she appeared, and Milos was obliged to accept that he couldn’t walk out now.

‘Look, I have to go back to the mill for a while,’ his host continued, ‘but Helen will look after you, won’t you, my dear?’ And, without giving her a chance to reply, ‘Come along, Maya. I have something I want to discuss with you.’

In a matter of minutes, they were alone, but Helen made no attempt to sit down. A pregnant silence, broken only by the clicking of the cicadas, enveloped them until Sofia appeared again with the requested refreshments.

She set the tray on the table and then departed again and Milos decided he had been ignored long enough.

‘Do you want coffee?’ he asked, and Helen, who had been standing some distance away from him, staring at the view, gave him a careless glance over her shoulder.

‘No, thanks.’

Milos’s jaw tightened, but he was determined not to give her any reason to walk out on him. ‘As you wish,’ he said, strolling across the paved terrace towards her. ‘It will give us more time to get to know one another again.’

Helen’s expression was not encouraging. ‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you just get in your very expensive car and go away? I won’t tell my father if you don’t.’

Milos suppressed the angry response that rose to his lips. ‘Why would I do that?’ he inquired instead. ‘Your father would like us to be friends.’

Helen snorted. ‘My father doesn’t know you as I do.’

‘I’ll give you that.’ Milos refused to be provoked. ‘I’m not in the habit of sleeping with members of my own sex.’

‘You surprise me.’ She was deliberately insolent. ‘From what I’ve read, men like you are more than willing to try every—ouch!’

She didn’t get the chance to finish what she was saying. She had just stepped beyond the point of no return and Milos’s hand shot out and gripped the soft flesh of her arm just above her elbow. He jerked her towards him with little care for her sensibilities, enjoying the brief sense of power it gave him.

‘What is it with you?’ he demanded, anger thickening his voice. ‘We both know that what happened between us all those years ago wasn’t exactly unexpected. And what was it, after all?’ he added as a disturbing drift of her flowery fragrance invaded his nostrils, briefly making him forget what he’d been going to say. ‘We had sex. Pretty good sex, as I recall, but so what? It’s what men and women do when they’re attracted to one another.’

‘Women from your background,’ she retorted, not prepared to give in even though he was sure he must be hurting her. He was hurting himself, for God’s sake, but in an entirely different way. ‘I’m not like you.’

‘Oh, but you are,’ he countered harshly. ‘Whatever that—youth you married was like, when we were together you didn’t care who I was.’

‘That was because I didn’t know who you were,’ she exclaimed. ‘And don’t—don’t speak about Richard. He—he was a decent man.’

‘That’s not what your daughter says,’ Milos taunted recklessly. ‘As far as I can gather, he definitely had faults of his own. Why did you marry him, Helen? Did you really love him? Or was it just to stop your mother from finding out what a promiscuous creature you’d turned out to be?’

‘You bastard!’

She wanted to strike him then. For a heart-stopping moment, she stared at him, and although the hostility between them was palpable there were other, less-identifiable emotions swirling in the violet depths of her eyes. She tried to jerk back, but she didn’t make it, and the raging heat of her body against his sent the blood rushing to his groin.

‘Did you really believe we could be indifferent to each other?’ he asked thickly, aware of a violent desire to kiss her, to pull the quivering curve of her thighs even closer to his aching shaft. This wasn’t meant to happen, the voice of sanity warned him, but right then he was deaf to everything but his own urgent needs.

‘Hey—what’s going on?’

The child’s voice provided the necessary draught of cool air to bring him to his senses. His hand dropped instantly to his side and he stepped back on legs that were almost as unsteady as Helen’s own.

‘Melissa,’ he said, and he was amazed to hear how controlled he sounded in the circumstances. ‘Um—your mother had something in her eye. I was just trying to get it out.’

CHAPTER FOUR

MILOS was persuaded to stay for lunch, after all.

Helen had been hoping he would go so that she could sort out her chaotic feelings. But with Melissa adding her support to Maya’s renewed invitation, for some reason Milos had acquiesced.

Helen dared not wonder why. He was a devil, she thought, viewing her flushed face in the bathroom mirror. She’d sought refuge in her own suite of rooms, leaving Melissa and Maya to entertain their visitor, desperate to avoid another destructive altercation with him.

But she knew that sooner or later she had to go down again and behave as if nothing had happened. As it was, leaving Melissa with him had been a calculated risk. Who knew what her daughter might say if she was asked personal questions about the man she believed to be her father? After the way she’d spoken in the car, it was obvious she retained little respect for Richard.

However, what worried Helen most was her own unwelcome response to Milos. She’d never dreamt he might behave as he had, or that what had begun as a childish provocation should so quickly deteriorate into a mindless assault on her senses. She’d sensed he’d wanted to kiss her, and the awful thing was she’d wanted it, too. Wanted more, if she was honest.

Dear God, she must be crazy!

Lunch itself wasn’t quite the ordeal Helen had anticipated. Her father joined them and Melissa seemed to be easier to manage when he was there. Not that he’d persuaded her to abandon her jeans in favour of a pair of her mother’s shorts, but Helen had noticed that her daughter no longer smeared black lipstick all over her mouth whenever they left their rooms.

She was relieved, too, to find that Maya had made sure that Milos was seated between her and Sam, which negated any private conversation between her guests. Which suited Helen just fine.

Nevertheless, she was intensely conscious of Milos’s dark eyes resting on her frequently throughout the meal, and, although she wasn’t particularly hungry, she was grateful for the wineglass at her fingertips, which provided at least a fragile barrier between them.

Melissa, however, was another matter, and just when Helen was beginning to think she was out of danger the girl addressed Milos directly.

‘Did you come in your car?’ she asked eagerly. She pushed aside the plate of beef and lamb kebabs that Maya had served with rice and salad in favour of the loukoumades, or deep-fried doughnuts dipped in a honey syrup, which were much more to her liking. ‘How fast can it go?’

‘On this island?’ Milos spoke tolerantly. ‘Not very.’ His eyes flickered to Helen’s anxious face and away again. ‘Why don’t you ask your mother if she’ll let you come for a drive with me and I’ll show you?’

‘I don’t think so.’ Helen disliked him putting her on the spot again. ‘I—we couldn’t put you out like that.’

‘It’s no problem,’ he assured her smoothly, and Helen wanted to scream in frustration when Melissa said, ‘There you are, Mum. At least someone cares if I have some fun.’

‘Oh, Melissa.’ It was her grandfather who spoke now, and Helen saw the way the girl visibly wilted beneath his wounded gaze. ‘And I thought you were happy here. Was I wrong?’

Melissa’s pale skin turned a little pink. ‘Oh—no,’ she protested, and Helen realised in amazement that she genuinely wanted to please him. ‘I mean, going out in the Jeep’s okay, but it’s not a Mercedes!’

Her grandfather pulled a wry face. ‘Well, that’s put me in my place, hasn’t it?’

‘No.’ Melissa didn’t realise he was teasing her. ‘But Milos has offered.’

‘Mr Stephanides,’ corrected Helen shortly, but her nemesis merely shook his head.

‘Milos will do,’ he said, with annoying complacency. ‘So—what do you think, Sam? Um—Helen?’

Maya gave an impatient exclamation. ‘You surely can’t seriously be considering entertaining a child, Milos,’ she exclaimed. ‘Sam?’ She turned to her husband. ‘Am I not right?’

‘I suppose it’s up to Milos,’ declared her husband mildly. ‘Helen?’