‘There is no funny side,’ he said angrily. ‘I hate feeling like this.’
‘Out of control…’ She placed a hand on his thigh, feeling the hard muscle flex beneath her fingers. ‘You’re not a man who likes to be out of control.’
With a driven sigh, he rubbed the tips of his fingers across his forehead. ‘Jannis is probably organising a search party as we speak.’ His reluctant confession was oddly endearing and Chantal felt happiness burst to life inside her.
She couldn’t help it. Even though she knew it was foolish and risky to dream, the fact that she was having such an effect on him made her feel good.
‘Poor Jannis…So—’ her eyes were drawn to the dark hairs on his arms ‘—if your behaviour isn’t normal, what are we going to do?’
‘For a start, I’m taking you back to the villa so that I don’t have to waste part of my working day tracking you down,’ he growled, sliding a hand behind her head and drawing her towards him. ‘From now on I want to know where you are every minute of the day. I want you where I can find you.’
His mouth was so close to hers that she could hardly breathe. ‘I have to check in and out?’
‘No, because you won’t be going anywhere. From now on your world revolves around the bedroom and the pool.’ He breathed the words against her mouth and her head swam and her eyes drifted shut.
She knew she ought to make some sort of protest, but she was desperate for him to kiss her and she didn’t want to delay that activity by speaking. Instead she leaned towards him, closing the distance, unable to resist the passion that drew them together.
He kissed her with devastating expertise, his mouth hungry and demanding, but as her body was consumed by ferocious excitement she made a final, desperate attempt to protect her principles. ‘I need to work.’
‘You’ll be too busy to work,’ he vowed thickly, his hand stroking her ribcage and resting just short of her breast. ‘You’re going to forget this nonsense about working.’
The blood was pounding in her veins and she felt drugged and desperate. She just couldn’t concentrate on anything when he was this close.
Resolving to find a different way to satisfy her principles, she gave up on the idea of returning to the taverna. Her body was on fire and all she wanted to do was go back to the villa. ‘Do you think you can find your way back to the harbour? If you don’t like public displays then I think we should go back really quickly, before we embarrass ourselves more than we already have.’
Casting a searing look in her direction, he started the engine and turned the car.
* * *
Later that evening, Angelos strolled onto the terrace for dinner, replete and re-energized after an extremely satisfying afternoon. A marathon session of explosive, steamy sex had been followed by a profitable work session, his concentration sharpened by the knowledge that Chantal was now safely confined to the villa. He’d left her sated and d
eliciously sleepy, but already he was looking forward to the night ahead.
She was the most responsive woman he’d ever known.
His father was already seated at the table, a glass of iced lemonade in one hand, the newspaper in the other. ‘Have you seen the share price?’
‘No.’ His mind a long way from the share price, Angelos pulled out the chair opposite and was just wondering where Chantal was when she appeared in the doorway that led from the kitchen.
She was balancing several dishes, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth as she tried not to drop them.
Remembering the last time he’d seen her cheeks that flushed, Angelos gave a lazy smile and sat back in his chair. ‘Why are you serving food? Has Maria had an accident?’
‘No, she’s busy talking to the dietician.’ Carefully she placed a dish of grilled fish and lemon slices in front of Costas, and then put a dish in front of Angelos. ‘Try it,’ she urged, her eyes sparkling with pride. ‘I want to know what you think.’
Captivated by the triumph in her expression, it took Angelos a moment to drag his eyes from her face to the food in front of him. ‘You want my opinion on moussaka?’
‘On this moussaka, yes. Because I made it. And I did something special with the aubergines.’ Breathless with anticipation, she watched his face anxiously. ‘Does it look all right? Maria said it was good, but I think she was just being kind.’
Unable to hide his astonishment, Angelos stared at her. ‘You cooked? When?’ Noticing the satisfied smile on his father’s face, he realised just how much his question had revealed about their afternoon activity.
‘Maria taught me. We made dolmades, too. Pretty fiddly, but I did OK, I think.’ Beaming with pride, Chantal slid into the seat next to him and waited expectantly. ‘Are you going to try it?’
Angelos was still adjusting to the fact that she’d surprised him yet again.
She hadn’t been lying in bed, recovering. She’d been slaving in the kitchen, in the heat, cooking him dinner. ‘Why?’
‘Because you need to eat.’