The Greek's Hidden Vows

‘You’re young, attractive, with a bright future ahead of you. And yet you agreed to tie yourself down for three years. Why?’

She forced a laugh, desperate for something to break the sharp awareness zinging in the air. ‘Isn’t it a little too late to be asking me these questions?’

He caught a stray lock of her hair, twisting it around his finger, while his gaze remained fixed on her face. ‘Why the evasion? Answer the question, Alexis.’

‘Because I’m not interested in relationships. Not any more,’ she confessed with an upsurge of bitterness that seared her throat. ‘And the agreement we made stated specifically that there would be nothing...intimate.’

Something flickered in his eyes. A blend of satisfaction, challenge and...anticipation. ‘Maybe not before, but we both know things have changed now, after what happened two months ago. You feel it with every breath. So do I.’

‘That means nothing,’ she argued, despite the sizzle in her belly and the tightening of her core. ‘Our agreement stays as it is.’

He curled her hair behind her ear and smiled when she shivered. ‘You can hide behind the letter of the agreement if it gives you comfort. But this thing between us isn’t going away, glykia mou. No matter how much you deny it. As for worrying about your being overly emotional, why would I? You’ve remained consistently unflappable in the face of every circumstance. Are you warning me that might change if I take you to bed?’ The brush of his fingers over her cheek and the electric pleasure they created only emphasised his words.

‘First of all, you’re not taking me to bed. Second, I was being facetious since the reason you fired so many of my predecessors was because they deigned to look at you with stars in their eyes.’

‘They did. And that’s the difference between you and them. You just said you don’t do relationships. That assures me things won’t change, so we won’t have a problem.’

‘What about your own lines?’ she challenged.

For a moment he stilled, his lashes sweeping down to hide his expression. When they lifted, the heat in his eyes seared her to the bone. ‘I find you more alluring than I anticipated. What better way to work through the...situation than to immerse oneself in it? Work it out of our systems, so to speak?’ he asked indolently.

She wanted to condemn him for being a calculating bastard. But could she conscientiously do so when he was only speaking his mind? Wasn’t the one thing she’d despised Adrian for more than anything the lying sweet talk he’d spouted simply to manipulate her?

The mere thought of Christos sweet talking anyone brought a strained smile.

‘Something amusing you, glykia mou?’ The endearment held an edge to it.

‘I had the frightening notion of you attempting to sweet talk me into your sensual web.’

‘I prefer plain-speaking.’

She swallowed, his very potent vitality threatening to consume her. ‘I can see that.’

‘Then perhaps the time for talking is over?’

He breached the last few inches between them and took her mouth with his. The fever that had brewed just below the surface for two months now flared strong and consuming once more. They devoured each other until their breaths grew frantic, until she felt as if her whole body were a flame of desire. She’d imagined a lot during those forbidden hours in her bed when she’d allowed Christos to fill her thoughts. This surpassed her every fantasy. Each stroke of his tongue felt like a brush with pure bliss, as if she were touching heaven itself.

‘Christos.’

‘Yes. Say my name, matia mou.’

Dear God, what was she doing? ‘Christos...stop. I have another question.’

His breath shuddered out and he held himself still for a long moment before he stepped back. ‘What is it?’

She scrambled to get her thoughts together. ‘What was Costas talking about? What games are you two playing?’

CHAPTER SIX

CHRISTOS STEELED HIMSELF against that firm demand. He’d hoped for a little breathing room before his grandfather went for the jugular, but no. Just like him, Costas didn’t believe in beating about the bush.

He looked around him, then out of the window past the gardens to the sea, willing the serenity he usually felt when he was on this particular piece of rock to reappear. He was wealthy enough to travel to any corner of the world he desired, had acquired property in those places that pleased his senses the most. Yet he’d never experienced the sort of...grounded calm he did when he was here. Fate and souls and love and destiny weren’t phenomena he set much store by, but the closest he’d come to being emotional about anything was this place. The place his grandfather was dangling from his fingertips like a snowflake over a volcano. Daring him to act. Daring him to—

‘Christos?’

He wiped a hand across his jaw. He was on edge. And not just because of his grandfather. This woman whose voice flowed over him like warm silk was equally culpable. She didn’t know that the sensual web she’d accused him of wielding went both ways. That the harder he tried, the more elusive his renowned iron will became.

That moments before they’d disembarked his plane had intensified his craving for her. He’d blamed their discovery on Costas but, truth be told, he’d lost all sense of time and place the moment he’d touched her.