The Greek's Ultimate Revenge

Like a shark, she thought…

Lean, dark and dangerous…

Now, why should she think that? What was dangerous about Nikos Kiriakis? He was a fantastic-looking male, but that was the only dangerous thing about him—and it was a danger every female who set eyes on him would experience.

A danger that she would end up doing something totally stupid over him.

Her lips pressed together. Well, she was not stupid. She’d got this far in life by not being stupid—not in the way that the likes of Nikos Kiriakis made women stupid. Women like her mother. Always falling for a handsome face. Oh, her mother had thought it ‘romantic’ to have one fervid affair after another, but Janine had never seen it like that. And where had it got her mother? Louise’s flitting butterfly existence, lover after lover, had been a gilded existence, filled with nothing but parties and self-indulgence. Filled with men like Nikos Kiriakis.

She knew what men like Nikos Kiriakis were like. They were too rich, too handsome, too damn sexy to be anything but bad. And Nikos Kiriakis was definitely bad. He would be used to women swooning at his feet in droves!

Well, she mustn’t be one of them.

She made a face.

She didn’t need to tell herself that! Didn’t need to warn herself. Nikos Kiriakis had the seal of approval from Stephanos—he wasn’t going to be any kind of danger. OK, so he’d eyed her up, but that didn’t mean anything. And she’d eyed him up—it had been impossible not to. But that didn’t mean anything either. She wouldn’t let it.

Her impeccable logic as to her own state of safety from Nikos Kiriakis lasted as long as it took to follow him to shore. By the time she was wading out of the water he had already towelled himself dry and had calmly appropriated her lounger. Nikos lay back and let her look, hands behind his head, shoulders slightly raised by the adjustable headrest, and he was subjecting her to a long and thorough examination.

In the space of less than a second Janine felt more aware of her body than she had ever felt in her life. And of just how close to being totally naked she was.

Suddenly, from being a quite unexceptional item of swimwear, her bikini seemed to shrink on her body, clinging damply to her tautened breasts and barely concealing her pubis.

As for the rest of her, every inch of flesh was totally exposed to him.

And every inch of it tingled as if an electric current were passing through it.

Every step she made to her lounger, she felt that dark, gold-flecked gaze resting on her appraisingly.

Being able to seize her towel and wrap it around her like a cocoon was a moment of exquisite relief. And then, just like a switch being thrown, she realised that she had become the one doing the appraising.

He lay back and let her look.

Oh, she didn’t do it as blatantly as he had her, he acknowledged. She made some pretence of unknotting her hair and shaking it loose. But he could see perfectly well that her eyes were fixed on him, covertly working over him through those long lashes of hers. Working over his body.

Well, that was good. That was very good. He wanted her to like what she saw. Wanted her to want him.

It made him want her too…

With a sudden movement he jack-knifed to his feet. It took a lot of control to make it look like an intentional movement.

Where the hell had that come from? The strength and immediacy of his reaction to her perusal shocked him.

With iron discipline he crushed his response. A public beach was not the place for it!

Immediately his imagination leapt to provide another venue—one where his reaction would be exactly what he wanted. A private beach—just the two of them—and Janine Fareham raising her arms to let the golden fall of her hair cascade over her bared breasts…

Again he crushed his response, forcing himself to regain control.

‘Here,’ he said, gesturing at the lounger he’d just vacated. ‘This was yours. I’ll use this one.’

He turned to the adjacent lounger, flicking his towel over it. But his gesture went unappreciated.

‘I think I’ll head back,’ replied Janine. Her voice was not quite steady, she noticed, and it dismayed her. She mustn’t react like this to this man. She just mustn’t! ‘I’ll take a shower and wash off the salt.’

She flickered a smile at him, not meeting his eye, and grabbed her bag, stuffing her feet into her beach sandals haphazardly. She had to get out of here—fast.

Behind her, Nikos watched her hurry off, his eyes narrowing. Then, slowly, he lowered himself back down on the lounger, gazing blindly out to sea. OK, so she could turn him on. Fast.

Quite something for a man of his experience.

And very enjoyable…

And dangerous?

He frowned.

But it was good. That he was responding to her sexually like this. After all, he reasoned, he had to make this deliberate seduction of his look real. Convincing.

Convincing? He’d damn near convinced everyone on the entire beach!

With a rasp of irritation he pushed the mocking comment aside. It wasn’t helpful. Instead he made a lightning review of the situation—the same as he would if this were a business deal he was pushing through. OK, so where was he on this?

Fact: he needed to get Janine Fareham into bed with him ASAP. The sooner she was in, the sooner she’d be out. And out of Stephanos’s bed as well.

Fact: Janine Fareham turned him on.

Fact: that was good. Very good. Just as he could leverage her desire for him, so he could leverage his desire for her. The more leverage, the sooner he’d achieve his goal.

Saving Demetria’s marriage.

Because that, and only that, was the object of this exercise. Enjoying Janine Fareham in bed was nothing more than incidental to that objective.

He’d better not forget it.

He closed his eyes. The westering sun was warm on his bare, damp skin.

Might as well catch some rays and chill out. Take a break before Act II of his fast-track seduction of Janine Fareham got underway.

He let his muscles relax.

It had been a long day. A long week. A long month. In fact it was a long time since he’d simply relaxed in the sun like this. Doing nothing. Letting the light breeze play over his body, the sun bathe his skin.

No one could contact him, no one could make demands on him. He didn’t need to check e-mails, or stock prices, or take conference calls.

He could just stay totally out of touch and let the world outside take care of itself.

Time enough to pursue and put paid to Janine Fareham.