Playing by the Greek's Rules (Puffin Island 0.50)

It was a good job he didn’t possess any of the qualities she was looking for, she thought, otherwise she’d be in trouble.

Her gaze lingered on his bronzed throat, visible at the open neck of his shirt. He handled the boat with the same confident assurance he displayed in everything and she was sure that no electrical device had ever dared to misbehave under his expert touch.

Trying not to think about just how expert his touch had been, she anchored her hair and shouted above the wind. ‘The beaches are beautiful. People aren’t allowed to bathe here?’

‘You can bathe here. You’re my guest.’ As they approached the island, he slowed the speed of the boat and skilfully steered against the dock.

Two men instantly jumped forward to help and Nik sprang from the boat and held out his hand to her.

‘I need to get my bag.’

‘They will bring our luggage up to the villa later.’

‘I have a gift for your father and it’s only one bag,’ she muttered. ‘I can carry a single bag.’

‘You bought a gift?’

‘Of course. It’s a wedding. I couldn’t come without a small gift.’ She stepped out of the bobbing boat and allowed herself to hold his hand for a few seconds longer than was necessary for balance. She felt warmth and strength flow through her fingers and had to battle the temptation to press herself against him. ‘So how many bedrooms does your father have? Are you sure there is room for me to stay?’

The question seemed to amuse him. ‘There will be room, theé mou, don’t worry. As well as the main villa, there are several other properties scattered around the island. We will be staying in one of those.’

As they walked up a sandy path she breathed in the wonderful scents of sea juniper and wild thyme. ‘One of the things I love most about Crete is the thyme honey. Brittany and I eat it for breakfast.’

‘My father keeps bees so he will be very happy to hear you say that.’

The path forked at the top and he turned right and took the path that led down to another beach. There, nestling in the small horseshoe bay of golden sand with the water almost lapping at the whitewashed walls, was a beautiful contemporary villa.

Lily stopped. ‘That’s your father’s house?’ The position was idyllic, the villa stunning, but it looked more like a honeymoon hideaway than somewhere to accommodate a large number of high-profile international guests.

‘No. This is Camomile Villa. The main house is fifteen minutes’ walk in the other direction, towards the small Venetian fort. I thought we’d unpack and breathe for an hour or so before we face the guests.’

Witnessing his tension, she felt a rush of compassion. ‘Nik—’ She put her hand on his cheek and turned his face to hers. ‘This is a wedding, not the sacking of Troy. You do not need to find your strength or breathe. Your role is to smile and enjoy yourself.’

His gaze locked on hers and she wished she hadn’t touched him. His blue-shadowed jaw was rough beneath her fingers and suddenly she was remembering that night in minute detail.

Seriously unsettled, she started to pull her hand away but he caught her wrist in his fingers and held it there.

‘You are a very unusual woman.’ His voice was husky and she gave a faint smile, ignoring the wild flutter of nerves low in her stomach.

‘I am not even going to ask what you mean by that. I’m simply going to take it as a compliment.’

‘Of course you are.’ There was a strange gleam in his eyes. ‘You see positive in everything, don’t you?’

‘Not always.’ She could have told him that she saw very little positive in being alone in the world, having no family, but given his obvious state of tension she decided to keep that confidence to herself. ‘So how do you know we’re staying in Camomile Villa? Cute name, by the way. Maybe your father has given it to one of the other guests. Shouldn’t you go and check?’

‘Camomile belongs to me.’

Lily digested that. ‘So actually you own five properties, not four.’

‘I don’t count this place.’

‘Really? Because if I owned this I’d be spending every spare minute here.’ She walked up the path, past silvery green olive trees, nets lying on the ground ready for harvesting later in the year. A small lizard lay basking in the hot sun and she smiled as it sensed company and darted for safety into the dry, dusty earth.

The path leading down to the villa cut through a garden of tumbling colour. Bougainvillaea in bright pinks and purples blended and merged against the dazzling white of the walls and the perfect blue of the sky.

Nik opened the door and Lily followed him inside.

White beamed ceilings and natural stone floors gave the interior a cool, uncluttered feel and the elegant white interior was lifted by splashes of Mediterranean blue.