The Greek's Hidden Vows

Heat rising to her face, she met his gaze. ‘I...suppose not.’

‘Hmm, such a rousing endorsement.’ He stopped beside her, then, without warning, his fingers trailed down her cheek. ‘The way you blush, matia mou. I’m almost tempted to test the boundaries of your innocence.’

‘I’m not innocent. And I’d thank you not to toy with me.’

A mirthless smile lifted one corner of his mouth. ‘Toying is the last thing on my mind.’

‘Christos...’

His eyes turned turbulent, a raging storm of emotions that held her breath trapped in her lungs. Slowly, his fingers trailed to her mouth, his thumb passing over her lower lip, just like yesterday. ‘Ne,’ he murmured, as if pleased with something. Before she could command herself to move away, he stepped back. ‘Meet me downstairs in half an hour.’

He walked away with a long-legged stride she couldn’t help but gape at.

Showering in record time, she chose a burnt-orange bikini over which she wore a white sundress and low-heeled flip-flops. After securing her hair in a ponytail, she threw on some costume jewellery. In her beach bag, she packed sunscreen, lip gloss and, on a desperate whim, her work tablet.

Christos was waiting when she emerged from the long hallway attached to the south wing.

The black golf buggy was sleek and powerful-looking. But it was the man behind the wheel who captured her attention. His slightly damp hair looked finger-combed; he’d probably showered while she was locked in her dressing room anxious about what to wear for a day of leisure with her...husband.

She looked up to find his gaze conducting an equally frank appraisal of his own. Suddenly, Alexis was super conscious of the thinness of her sundress, of the short hem brushing her thighs. Of her bare legs and the soft breeze that whispered through the cypress trees and washed over her sensitive skin.

‘Get in, Alexis,’ he ordered with a low, deep voice that echoed in her belly.

They headed north, towards the denser part of the island. There he pointed out the olive groves that had once supplied olive oil to the villa but now formed part of the stables for the Andalusian horses Costas kept.

Next, they headed for the craggier part where the cliffs met the sea.

‘At sunset, the configuration of the cliffs and the beach gives the impression of a dragon breathing fire. Hence the name.’

‘You spent time here as a boy, didn’t you?’

A wry smile curved his lips. ‘It’s not hard to get lost in the draw of a place like this.’

She tried to imagine the picture he evoked. While it wasn’t easy to picture the imposing, dynamic man beside her as a child, perhaps even a lonely one, it was easy to conjure up a boy who’d retreated to his imagination for his own entertainment. She’d done the same on countless nights in her single bed in the children’s home. Dreamed of the safety and security of an imaginary family and not the loneliness that plagued her day and night.

‘Did your grandfather share it with you?’

He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes on the sea for several moments before he shook his head. ‘Not always. He was preoccupied with my grandmother. But he insisted that I knew how to swim before he set me loose on the island, so he taught me how to swim in the pool.’

Last night’s conversation and the look in his eyes this morning almost stopped her from uttering the words. But although she risked spoiling the magic of their trip, the words tumbled out anyway. ‘Where were your parents?’

His face tightened, bleakness shadowing his eyes. ‘They were busy starring in the melodrama of their acrimonious divorce.’

That tight, pain-wrapped response brought stunning clarity. ‘They’re the reason you became a divorce lawyer, aren’t they?’

He turned towards her, and even though her breath stalled at the icy contempt in his eyes, she knew it wasn’t aimed at her but at his parents. ‘Yes. Agios and Nadia Drakakis separated when I was five years old. I lived with my mother for a while. Then mostly with Agios. They dragged out their divorce for ten years. And when they weren’t busy going for each other’s throats, they used me as a pawn in their little games.’

‘How?’

He gave a stiff shrug. ‘My father would inform me I was changing schools halfway through a school year simply because he knew it would upset my mother. And me. My mother would suddenly take me out of my new school to go on a month-long holiday to get back at him. Then he would retaliate in another way. I once made the mistake of telling my father I was keeping my hair long because my mother liked it. He took his hair clippers out within the hour.’ He paused, his lips thinning in recollection. ‘They did this repeatedly, without a care as to what I wanted. Coming here to Drakonisos was my only reprieve, the one thing I looked forward to as a child.’

Sympathy filled her chest. Reaching out, she brushed her fingers over the back of his hand. ‘I’m sorry.’

For a moment he looked startled, then he nodded and turned away to stare at the horizon once more. Silence reigned for a few minutes before she summoned the courage to ask what she hoped would be a less fraught question. ‘Where was your grandmother?’

A flash of pain crossed his face. ‘Here on Drakonisos, but she never got the chance to truly appreciate the island. Costas bought it for her after she was diagnosed with a terminal illness.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to evoke painful memories for you.’