The Greek's Ultimate Revenge

Through veiled eyes he studied her for a reaction but saw none. The name meant nothing to her. He’d gambled that it wouldn’t. Why should Stephanos talk about his brother-in-law to his mistress?

Nikos Kiriakis. Janine rolled the fluid syllables around in her head.

He was speaking again, and she brought her dazed attention back to what he was saying.

‘Stephanos also had another suggestion,’ Nikos went on, ‘which for my part I would be very happy to comply with.’ The lie rolled as smoothly as the first.

Janine stared. ‘What suggestion?’ Her voice still sounded totally abstracted.

Nikos was not offended. Usually he expected—and got—a hundred per cent attention from those he spoke to. But that Janine Fareham was incapable of bringing such focus to their conversation was only a good sign. A very good sign. He wanted her dazzled by him—lured by him.

‘As you know, Stephanos is currently en route to the States,’ began Nikos. He studied her reaction to this information—he calculated. Stephanos would have told her he was going to be abroad, although he doubted he would have told her that the reason for his sudden trip to New York was to take his wife to a fertility expert there.

‘He is concerned that you may not have anything to do while he is away,’ he continued. ‘So he asked me if I would look after you while I am here—stop you getting bored.’

Janine’s wandering thoughts snapped back. Suddenly the stomach-churning impact of Nikos Kiriakis’s physical presence vanished. There was something far more important to focus on.

What had he just said to her? What was all that about Stephanos telling him she might be bored? Telling him to look after her? Surely, considering Stephanos’s determination to keep her role in his life quiet, it was madness to send this Nikos Kiriakis to look her up?

Nikos saw the consternation in her face. It would not help his strategy.

‘Perhaps I should tell you,’ he said, his eyes resting on her, ‘that, as a close friend of Stephanos Ephandrou, I am aware of the relationship between you, Ms Fareham—’

Her eyes widened, her consternation deepening.

‘You are?’

CHAPTER TWO

OH, YES, thought Nikos savagely—that was good, Ms Fareham, that was very good! That little touch of surprise, and widening those big, beautiful eyes of yours. What the hell did you suppose everyone would think about your relationship with a fifty-two-year-old man? His mouth tightened.

She was sitting there, gazing at him, her eyes wide in her beautiful face. As if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. As if neglected wives, heartbroken and despairing, had nothing to do with her. As if she were not responsible for his sister weeping in his arms.

The dark current of his anger surged dangerously near the surface. He forced it down. It had no part to play in his scheme now. The time for venting his anger on her would come later.

He made his mouth give a brief smile.

‘Do not look so surprised. Such relationships are not unknown,’ he remarked. For all his intentions, a sardonic tone was audible in his voice. He took a mouthful of coffee, then set back his cup with a click on the metal surface of the table.

Janine eyed him cautiously. Stephanos had urged such discretion that she was taken aback by this man calmly referring to it. But then, she reasoned, presumably such relationships were not unusual. Especially not with non-Greek women, with their more relaxed attitude to sexual behaviour. Clearly Nikos Kiriakis saw nothing exceptional about it.

Even so, it was disconcerting to hear this complete stranger refer to it. Although, of course, she realised belatedly, he wasn’t a stranger to Stephanos. It was odd that they were friends, though—Nikos Kiriakis was easily a generation younger than Stephanos. He didn’t look much over thirty, really. Thirty-five at the most. He was certainly in incredible physical condition…

‘Please don’t look so alarmed,’ he went on, the smooth note back in his voice. ‘I appreciate that Stephanos wishes to be discreet about your relationship. It is very understandable. You may be assured of my discretion.’ He smiled again, a warm, reassuring smile, and she felt suddenly breathless.

‘So,’ said Nikos, knowing he had overcome that barrier successfully, ‘would you care to undertake a little sightseeing? It would be very useful to me as, amongst other business matters, I am here to see whether this island would be suitable for a summer villa for myself.’

That was true enough, he thought. From what little he’d seen of the island firsthand so far, and from what Stephanos had already told him, it might well be suitable. The most southerly of the Ionian islands, Skarios was dryer and hotter than the others, and far less developed. The airport had recently been extended to allow tourist planes to land, but there was general agreement that any development should be both upmarket and sympathetic to the landscape—like his brother-in-law’s luxury hotel, which had been designed to be low-rise and traditionally styled.

‘Well,’ he went on, ‘what do you think?’

About what? thought Janine, trying to drag her mind back, because she had resumed gazing raptly at the incredible man sitting opposite her.

‘Showing me the island?’ he prompted, well aware of the reason for her vagueness, and well pleased by it. Her reaction was exactly what he’d hoped it would be.

Janine felt her breath catch. Those gold-flecked eyes were resting on her, making her feel…feel…

Breathless. Totally breathless….

‘What do you say?’ pursued Nikos. He was in no doubt as to her answer. Not in the slightest.

‘It sounds wonderful!’ said Janine, unable to stop herself sounding enthusiastic.

Suddenly Nikos Kiriakis’s arrival could not have seemed more timely.

Stephanos had extracted a reluctant promise from her not to hire a car and explore the island herself—‘The roads are far too dangerous!’ he’d said anxiously—which had left only the not very appealing prospect of taking taxis or restricting herself to the very limited tour buses.

She’d be an idiot to turn down the opportunity of keeping company with the most breathtaking man she’d ever set eyes on…

Careful, a voice inside her cautioned. This Nikos Kiriakis might be gorgeous, but, believe me, he has the same effect on every female he comes across. Just because he eyed you up it doesn’t mean you should start getting ideas.

She sobered. Anyway, this isn’t a good time for getting ideas like that. This time should be devoted to Stephanos.

But Stephanos isn’t here…and he’s sent Nikos Kiriakis to me…

To show you around, stop you getting bored, she reminded herself acidly. Nothing else…

He was talking again, and she brought her mind back with a snap.

‘Good. Then we are agreed. We shall make our first excursion tomorrow!’ There was satisfaction in his voice. He had made contact, and got her agreement—incredibly easily!—to spend time with him alone. Now it was time for the next step in his carefully planned campaign.

‘For today—’ he shot back his cuff and glanced at the gold watch circling his wrist ‘—it is too late to make any kind of expedition. Besides—’ the smile quirked again ‘—I have only just flown in from Athens, and that pool looks far too inviting to resist.’ He frowned, as his gaze took in just how thronged with children it was. ‘Perhaps it will get quieter later.’

‘Yes, it empties out around six-ish,’ confirmed Janine. Her spirits were zipping around in her, whooshing like crazy. ‘The sea is a better bet right now. A path goes down to the beach just beyond the pool.’ She indicated with her hand.

He nodded. ‘The sea it shall be, then,’ he said. His eyes swept over her once more. ‘Perhaps you would care to join me there later when you have finished your sunbathing?’

Janine’s eyes flickered. ‘Thank you—yes.’

Her voice was still breathless, and she felt light-headed.

Nikos got to his feet. ‘I’ll see you down there,’ he told her, and bestowed one last smile on her for good measure before he walked away towards the hotel.

Janine gazed after him until he disappeared from view.

Slowly, she bent her head to drink her frappe through the twin straws in the glass.

Her pulse was racing.