Irresistible Greeks: Unsuitable and Unforgettable: At His Majesty's Request / The Fallen Greek Bride / Forgiven but not Forgotten?

“You trust me?” he asked, his heart thundering.

Her eyes drifted to his mouth before raising up to meet his. “Yes.”

“Ah, but, Ms. Carter, I’m not certain I trust myself. You certainly shouldn’t be putting any trust in me.”

It was nothing. Just a little lust. Nothing deeper than any other attraction he’d felt. It was a direct result of his long bout of celibacy. He would meet more women. Find the one he was supposed to marry, and then he could focus all of his desire on her.

But Theos help him if he could think of marriage without feeling like he was choking. The attraction to Jessica at least made him feel … well, he could breathe.

“I’m going to be in Greece for the next few weeks and I want you to arrange my meetings with prospective brides there. I have business to attend to.” Flexible business, but he needed to get out of Kyonos. Now.

Jessica blinked. “I … I can do that. But I have other clients and I …”

“Not right now you don’t. I need you to put everything else on hold. I need you with me, organizing meetings and whatever else I might need so we can simply get this done.”

“What will people think if we just up and go to Greece the day after your sister’s wedding?”

“Perhaps that we’re embarking on a wild affair?” The idea made his body harden. The idea certainly had merit. Merit he might have to seriously consider. Just the idea of lowering her dress, revealing those luscious breasts …

She laughed. “Oh, I doubt that. More than likely they’ll wonder if you’re looking for a Greek wife.”

“I’m not opposed.” Not any more opposed than he was to the whole idea.

“I guess it doesn’t matter if we operate from Greece or Kyonos.”

“Good. Then we’ll leave for Greece first thing tomorrow.” He opened his office door and held it for her. Tomorrow he would get out of Kyonos, get his head on straight.

For now, he was determined to go back to the reception and enjoy the happiest day of his sister’s life.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_278b2f15-b508-53c2-9eb3-35127d714e8f)

WHAT did one wear on a private jet headed to Greece? With a prince as cabin-mate. That last part was important.

That had been the first question in her mind that morning, and it was still plaguing her even as she boarded the private jet, decked out in a yellow halter-top sundress and a matching wide-brimmed hat.

Because seriously, dwelling on anything more important than that might make her head explode. And she didn’t want to risk it. Aside from the fact that the interior was far too swanky to chance getting brain matter on it, she had too much work to do and she couldn’t function without said organ.

Stavros was already on the plane, lounging in one of the spacious leather seats, hands behind his head. It was like his go-to mess-with-her-composure position. Exposed bulge at the apex of his thighs? Check. Hard, muscular chest on display? Check. Washboard abs on show? Double check.

He was going to drive her insane.

And what would you do about it? Even if you could act on your attraction to him?

Nothing. The answer was an absolutely nothing, because while attraction, flirtation and sexual desire were all fine and fun, going any further than that would only result in pain. Emotional pain if not physical pain.

Probably both.

“Good morning,” she said.

He stood, his posture straight as she moved into the cabin and sat down in a chair that was positioned as far from his as was polite. He didn’t sit until she had settled herself.

“I like that,” she said. “Very chivalrous.”

“Etiquette is, of course, important for a prince to learn,” he said, humor lacing his tone.

“It’s a dying art form these days, trust me. With both men and women.”

“I imagine you would have a greater insight into that than most.” He buckled his seat belt and she followed suit as the plane readied for take-off.

“Probably. I deal with people on a pretty regular basis. And I have to ask a lot of … intimate questions. But people also tend to be on their best behavior when they’re looking for a relationship, or just beginning one. So I see a lot of the polished squeaky clean veneer, too.”

He nodded. “I suppose I do, too.”

“I’ll bet not many people let loose in front of royalty.”

“You don’t seem that bothered by my position.”

The plane started down the runway and a bubble of excitement burst in her stomach. It had taken a while, but she liked flying now. She liked how free it made her feel. If she wasn’t happy where she was, she could hop a plane and escape for a while.

It was liberating; providing some of the few real moments of freedom she felt. It was superhuman to fly, and it took her mind off the fact that she really was just human. With all kinds of shortcomings.

“Well, unlike my clients, I don’t see the point in hiding who I am.” Lies. She absolutely hid who she was. Behind a suit of armor that was a lot tougher than she was. But what was the point of armor if you admitted you had it on?

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said, his dark eyes far too perceptive for her liking.

What was he? A mind reader? “Why is that?”

“Because you have secrets. You won’t tell me why you’re prickly.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I told you not to flirt with me.”

“You tell me that when I start to get close to things you don’t want to talk about,” he said, leaning over slightly. He was still across the aisle from her, but she felt the move. Felt the increased closeness.

She shifted the opposite direction. “Having secrets is normal. I imagine you have them.”

“Not one. Every detail of my life is published in the archives and kept in my father’s office. My more public exploits are in the news, in tabloids, on royalty stalker websites.”

“So that’s it then, you’re an open book?”

“I have nothing to hide. More to the point, I can’t have anything to hide. If I did, it would be put out in the public eye. I’m a public commodity,” he ground out, a bitterness tingeing his words. “I exercise discretion in certain areas of my life, naturally. I don’t announce when I take a lover, for example, though all tabloids will imply it. You, on the other hand—you have secrets.”

“You think you have me figured out?”

A smile curved his lips. Wicked. Dangerous. “No. Not at all.”