Powerful Greek, Unworldly Wife

‘I’d noticed.’ Millie looked towards the beach. ‘Is that where we’re going?’

‘Later. If you want to. First I want to show you something. Put this on.’ He handed her a slim, expensive-looking box with a discreet logo in the corner, which she recognised as that of a top fashion designer.

‘If this is another swimming costume, you can forget it. In the last ten days all you’ve done is make me take my clothes off all the time.’

‘That isn’t quite all I’ve done, agape mou.’

She blushed. ‘OK, so I wore a swimming costume on your island, but presumably this isn’t private. Anyone could see me.’

“You have nothing to hide.’

‘I still can’t believe you got me into a swimming costume.’

‘You looked fabulous.’

‘From the back.’

‘Yes, from the back. And from the front. And the side. From every angle,’ Leandro said, sliding his shorts off to reveal the str

ong, flat stomach and hard thighs. ‘You seem a little overdressed for a Greek beach. Open the box.’

‘Where did this come from, anyway? You haven’t been anywhere to buy me anything.’

He spread his hands in masculine apology. ‘All right—I confess I didn’t actually choose it. I made a call, gave someone a brief and it was delivered.’

‘You made a call.’ She mimicked him as she opened the box. Wrapped carefully inside layers of luxurious silken tissue paper was the sexiest bikini she’d ever seen. It was a shimmering gold and she could see that it was brief enough to be virtually non-existent. Her heart thudded uncomfortably. ‘No way, Leandro!’

‘Put it on.’

‘I can’t possibly wear this.’

‘Trust me, you will look sensational in it.’ Calm and unconcerned, he stripped off his T-shirt, revealing bronzed shoulders hard with muscle. ‘I will enjoy watching you change into it.’

‘Leandro.’ Her tone was urgent and her fingers tightened on the slippery fabric. ‘A swimming costume—well, I managed that. But I can’t wear a bikini. I just can’t. I have—’

‘Scars—yes, I know.’ He was as relaxed as she was agitated, and her fingers tightened on the silky fabric. ‘You don’t understand how self-conscious I feel.’

‘I understand exactly how self-conscious you feel and I am trying to show you that I find you incredibly sexy in whatever you’re wearing.’ His voice was husky. ‘Or not wearing. Get changed.’

Millie held the bikini in her hands. Looked at it. Then she saw the determination in his eyes. ‘I can’t wear a bikini.’

‘You have ten seconds to change,’ he warned in a silky tone, ‘or I will put it on you myself.’

‘You’re not very sympathetic, are you?’

‘Do you want my sympathy?’

‘No. I just want to hide and you won’t let me. For the past two weeks you’ve done nothing but expose me! You make love in daylight, you make me parade around in a swimming costume and now this.’

Leandro glanced pointedly at his watch. ‘You’re down to one second. Are you going to do it yourself or do I do it for you?’

Sending him a furious glare, Millie snatched up one of the neatly folded towels and retreated to the far side of the boat. Was he being intentionally cruel? Angry and upset, she wriggled into the minuscule bikini, snatched her clothes up from the baking leather of the seat and stalked back to him. ‘Satisfied?’

‘Not yet.’ His smile was wickedly sexy as his eyes trailed down her body. ‘But I will be. Remind me to thank the person who chose that. She followed my brief exactly. The emphasis being on the word “brief”.’

Flustered by his lazy, masculine scrutiny, Millie stared down at the clear water. Shoals of tiny silvery fish darted beneath the surface and she watched them for a moment. ‘I don’t understand you.’

‘Evidently not. But we’re working to change that. You look fantastic in that bikini.’