After the Greek Affair Read online

  She would never make the same mistake, Belle vowed. She loved designing beautiful, romantic wedding gowns, but the idea of giving up her independence for a man held no appeal whatsoever. Especially a man like Loukas Christakis. The thought slid into her head as she glanced across the table and felt her stomach dip at the sight of his hard-boned features. He was the most breathtakingly handsome man she had ever laid eyes on, and she was sure he could be charming and charismatic when it suited him, but he was too forceful for her liking—too controlling—too much of a reminder of the man she had grown up believing to be her father.

  She was wasting her time here. The rigid set of Loukas’s square jaw told her that. Disappointment settled like a lead weight in the pit of her stomach and she suddenly felt desperate to escape his brooding presence. She drank the rest of her juice, set the glass down on the table and picked up her bag. ‘All right, Mr Christakis. You win. If I take the next ferry back to Athens I may be able to catch a flight to London this evening.’ She paused and then asked huskily, ‘Can we make up an excuse for Larissa to explain why I’m not available to make her dress—a family emergency or something? I don’t want her to think that I simply didn’t turn up—which I’m sure you would allow her to believe,’ she added accusingly.

  Loukas did not reply immediately, and in the silence that stretched between them his slate-grey gaze gave no clue to his thoughts. ‘It matters to you what Larissa thinks?’ he queried at last.

  ‘Of course it does.’ Belle gave him an impatient look. ‘Your sister is a lovely person, and I’d hate her to think I’d let her down like her first designer did. I know you’ll tell me it’s none of my business, but I think you’re wrong to interfere in her life—even if you have the best intentions for doing so,’ she continued firmly when Loukas gave her a dark glare. ‘There’s a fine line between wanting to protect her and being too controlling, and you could find that Larissa will start to resent you for preventing her from making her own decisions.’

  ‘You’re right. My relationship with my sister is absolutely none of your business,’ Loukas growled, irritated that her words had struck a nerve. He did not want to control Larissa; it was a ridiculous suggestion. He simply wanted to do what was best for her and take care of her—as he had promised his parents he would.

  His mind turned to the past—to memories that still tugged on his soul. ‘You have to be a man now, son, and look after your mother and sister,’ his father had choked while the life had slipped from his body as fast as the blood had gushed from the gunshot wound to his stomach—courtesy of a couple of young punks high on crack. Loukas had been sixteen then, terrified of the responsibility that had been thrust upon him and ravaged with grief for his beloved Papa.

  Two years later his mother had clutched his arm with a hand that was so thin he had been able to see every vein beneath her papery skin. Her cancer had been diagnosed too late for her to have a chance, and without health insurance or money to pay for the drugs that might have prolonged her life a little the end had come quickly. ‘Take care of Larissa,’ had been the last words she had whispered. And standing by her bed, watching helplessly as she left the world, Loukas had given her his word.

  How dared Belle Andersen criticise him? he thought furiously. She could have no idea what he had felt like at eighteen, knowing that he was totally responsible for his six-year-old sister. Life had been tough, and there had been many nights when he had been unable to sleep, scared that he wasn’t strong enough to cope.

  Of course he was over-protective of Lissa, he thought savagely. He’d had first-hand experience of how dangerous the world could be when he had witnessed his father’s murder. But Belle’s warning that Larissa might resent what she had termed his interference played on his mind. He recalled his sister’s excitement when she had told him that Belle was coming to Aura to design her wedding dress.

  Gamoto! he cursed silently. Maybe Belle had a point when she had said that Lissa should be free to make her own decisions. Maybe it was time he learned to take a step back and accept that his sister was no longer a child. Besides, what could go wrong? Belle would be on Aura, under his watchful gaze. She had said she was prepared to work night and day to complete Larissa’s dress, and he would make sure she fulfilled her promise.

  Once again his eyes were drawn to Belle’s mouth, and he felt his body tighten with desire as he imagined plundering those soft pink lips. He could not deny his sizzling sexual attraction to her—and, more intriguingly, his instincts told him that she was as aware as he was of the white-hot chemistry between them.

  Belle stood up from the table and held out her hand to Loukas. ‘I’d like my phone back, please,’ she said briskly. ‘I need to ring the airport and see if I can change my return flight.’

  He donned his sunglasses and got to his feet before he dropped her phone into her palm. His fingers only brushed against her hand for a few seconds but the contact of his skin against hers sent a tingling sensation up her arm. Belle jerked her hand back so quickly that she almost dropped her phone. She felt hot all over, every nerve ending quivering with her fierce awareness of him. Get a grip, she told herself impatiently, infuriated that he dominated her senses.

  He was so tall. Now that they were both standing once more, Belle was struck anew by his size, his undoubted strength and his sheer, virile masculinity. Maybe it was a good thing she was going home, she thought shakily. She seemed incapable of controlling her body’s response to Loukas—a fact that became shamefully obvious when she glanced down and saw the outline of her nipples jutting beneath the silky material of her jacket.

  Face flaming, she crossed her arms defensively over her chest and began to scroll through the contacts in her phone’s memory, searching for the number for Athens airport.

  ‘Stop messing about and come with me now if you want a lift to Aura.’

  She snapped her head up to find that Loukas was already holding the larger of her suitcases, and while she gaped at him he rounded the table, picked up her other case, and walked out of the bar.

  ‘Wait…’ His long stride had already taken him across the road. Belle teetered after him, cursing her vertiginous heels and the uneven cobbled surface of the quay. ‘I don’t understand.’

  She finally caught up with him, and her heart lurched when he glanced down and subjected her to a cool stare. He was so incredibly good-looking, she thought helplessly. She was embarrassed by her reaction to him, but could not tear her eyes from the sculpted perfection of his hard-boned features.

  ‘Do you mean I can make Larissa’s dress?’ She was confused by his sudden about-face, but why else would he have offered to take her to his island? ‘Aren’t you worried that I’ll dupe your sister out of a fortune—like that Toula woman did—and then disappear, leaving her without a wedding dress?’ she demanded bitterly, still fuming at his treatment of her.

  ‘No, I’m not worried about that.’ They had reached the edge of the quay and Loukas dropped her cases into his boat before turning to face her. ‘I have every confidence that you will design the wedding gown of Larissa’s dreams and make her very happy. Because if you don’t—’ his hard smile sent a shiver down Belle’s spine ‘—you will answer to me.’

  Belle finally lost control of her temper. Loukas Christakis wasn’t just insulting and arrogant, he was a bully who clearly enjoyed bossing people around. But she’d been pushed around by John Townsend all her childhood—sometimes literally, she remembered grimly. She wasn’t going to put up with it again from any man.

  ‘Are you threatening me, Mr Christakis?’ she demanded, placing her hands on her hips and wishing fervently that she was taller and did not have to tilt her head to meet his gaze.

  ‘Merely warning you,’ he said silkily. ‘Disappoint me, and more importantly Larissa, and I promise you will find it impossible to gain financial backing for Wedding Belle anywhere in the world.’

  She believed him. His wealth and his status as one of the most brilliant and ruthless businessmen
of the decade gave him that kind of power. She had no doubt that he could destroy her little company as easily as he could crush an ant beneath his shoe.

  ‘Well? Are you coming? I haven’t got all day for you to make up your mind.’

  She gave a start at the sound of his faintly mocking tone and realised that he had jumped into the boat and was holding out his hand to help her step on board. She would love to tell him to take a running jump, Belle thought viciously, preferably over the edge of a high cliff. But the stark truth was that she needed this job. If she could not start to pay back her business loan to the bank Wedding Belle would collapse without any help from Loukas.

  In her high heels and pencil skirt there was no way she could climb into the boat without his help. Reluctantly she leaned forward to take his hand, and gave a startled cry when, having lost patience with her dithering, Loukas gripped her waist and swung her down from the quay.

  The few seconds that he held her against him scrambled her brain, and the feel of his muscular torso and rock-hard thighs pressed so intimately close to her body was causing a coiling sensation deep in her pelvis. She snatched a breath when he set her down and gave him a fulminating glare, desperate to hide her awareness of him. ‘Thank you,’ she said icily, ‘but I could have managed perfectly well, Mr Christakis—’

  ‘Nonsense.’ He cut her off mid-tirade. ‘You’re as wobbly as a newborn foal in those ridiculous shoes. And you’d better make it Loukas. My sister was keen that I should welcome you to Aura, and she’ll expect us to be on first-name terms—Belle.’

  Something about the way he said her name sent a little quiver through Belle, and his amused smile stole her breath. Already devastatingly sexy, the sudden upward curve of his sensual mouth caused her knees to sag, and she could feel her heart thundering as if she’d run a marathon.

  ‘You’d better hold on to this before the wind whips it away.’ Loukas lifted the elegant cream and black hat from Belle’s head, and stiffened when pale gold hair unfurled and fell almost to her waist in a silken stream. He had been right about her being a blonde. In the sunlight her hair was the colour of platinum. It seemed unlikely that the shade was natural, but she was so tiny compared to his six-foot-four frame that her head only came halfway up his chest, and he could see no telltale sign of darker roots on her scalp.

  The breeze blew a few fair strands across her face and, unable to stop himself, Loukas reached out and brushed the hair back from her cheek. Time was suspended. Belle’s heart stopped beating as she stared into dark grey eyes that were no longer cold and hard as tensile steel, but glinting with a blatant sexual heat that evoked a shameful longing inside her for him to pull her into his arms and plunder her mouth with the savage passion she sensed he was capable of.

  How could she be attracted to him when he was everything she hated? It was just a physical thing, she assured herself frantically—a chemical reaction that she had no control over. But somehow she would have to ignore her sexual attraction to Loukas if she was not going to spend the next week embarrassing herself by ogling him like a teenager with a severe crush.

  The throb of the boat’s engine seemed to reverberate through her, and she gripped the edge of her seat as he opened the throttle and sped out of the harbour, heading towards the small island of Aura—a green haven set amid the sparkling blue sea. Her hair whipping across her face, Belle glanced back at Kea, already far behind them. Sudden panic flooded through her and she felt an impending sense of unease that her life would never be the same again once she had set foot on Loukas Christakis’s private domain.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘MOST of this side of Aura is covered in forest,’ Loukas explained as they approached the island and Belle remarked on the distinctive dark green cypress trees that flanked the shoreline, standing like silent sentinels guarding the land.

  There was no beach; the grey rocky cliffs sloped down to the sea, forming a natural harbour where a wooded jetty had been built. The sea appeared a brilliant turquoise colour from a distance, but as Loukas steered the boat into the shallows the water was so crystal-clear that Belle could see shoals of tiny fish darting like silver arrows. Fascinated by them, she leaned over and trailed her hand in the water, watching their scales glint and gleam in the sunlight.

  ‘Aren’t they beautiful?’ she murmured, pushing her long hair over her shoulder.

  Loukas fought the urge to run his fingers through the silky blonde strands, and concentrated on tying the boat securely to a post on the jetty. ‘Speaking as the son of a fisherman, I don’t think much of them; they’d only make a couple of mouthfuls,’ he muttered.

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t want to eat them. They’re far too pretty.’ Belle laughed, her resentment of Loukas’s high- handed manner forgotten as she lifted her head and glanced about her, drinking in the view of the dense blue sky and sea and the rugged grey cliffs, which at close hand she could see were covered in a profusion of tiny pink flowers. ‘What a heavenly place,’ she said softly, the tension that had gripped her when they had left Kea seeping away.

  Loukas could not look away from her. A man could drown in the depths of those incredible blue eyes, he brooded. And as for her smile! It lit up her gamine face and turned her classical features from beautiful to breathtaking.

  He gave an impatient snort. Trouble! He’d known that was what Belle Andersen spelt. He should have followed his first instinct when he had seen her dainty figure teetering along the quay in her stiletto heels and turned the boat around. Instead he had brought her to his home—an honour he rarely conferred upon any woman, including his mistresses. Aura was his private haven, a place of peace and tranquillity where he could relax away from the pressures of work.

  Right now he felt anything but relaxed, he thought derisively as he took Belle’s hand to help her step onto the jetty, and inhaled the delicate floral fragrance of her perfume. His body had been aroused since he had lifted her into the boat at Kea and her breasts had brushed against his chest, and now, with his eyes drawn to the delightful sway of her bottom as she preceded him along the jetty, he could feel his erection straining uncomfortably beneath his jeans.

  ‘Theos,’ he growled beneath his breath. All he needed on top of running his business empire and arranging Larissa’s wedding was an inconvenient attraction to a beautiful blonde who had the face of an angel but possessed a surprisingly sharp tongue.

  A path ran from the jetty and climbed fairly steeply, disappearing around an outcrop of rock. ‘It’s only about a five-minute walk up to the house,’ Loukas explained as he picked up both the suitcases, ‘but the path is uneven in places.’ He glanced down at Belle’s new, shiny black patent stilettos that were probably her pride and joy, and grimaced. ‘Do you think you’ll manage? You might be better to change into more sensible footwear.’

  Sensible! How she hated that word, Belle thought fiercely. It took her back in time to the countless arguments she’d had with John when she had been a teenager about her shoes, clothes, make-up. ‘I won’t allow any daughter of mine to go around looking like a slut,’ had been his favourite refrain, his face turning purple with temper, and his sergeant-major bark echoing through the house. He had known, of course—although back then Belle had not—that she was not his daughter. She had been a constant reminder of her mother’s infidelity and John had taken his bitterness out on her. Heels higher than an inch had been banned, along with short skirts and tight jeans—all the modern things that her friends wore. ‘You’ll do as I say because I’m the adult and you’re a child.’

  Rebelliousness had burned in Belle’s heart every time John had bossed her around, and now the supercilious expression on Loukas’s face evoked the same mutinous feeling.

  ‘I always wear heels, and I can walk perfectly well in them,’ she told him coolly. ‘I’m sure I’ll manage the path fine.’ Head held high, she swung round, caught her heel on a tuft of grass at the edge of the path and stumbled, only saved from falling by Loukas’s lightning reactions as he dropped the
cases and grabbed her arm.

  ‘Yes, I can see you’re as sure-footed as a mountain goat,’ he said dryly. ‘Let’s try again—carefully. And you’d better wear this.’ He plonked her hat unceremoniously onto her head. ‘The sun is at its hottest in the late afternoon, and with your fair skin you’ll burn to the colour of a boiled lobster in no time.’

  Without waiting to hear her reply he picked up the cases once more and strode ahead of her up the path, not turning his head to see if she was following.

  Arrogant, pig-headed… Belle took a deep breath and marched behind him, her eyes focused on the ground to make sure she did not trip. On one hand Loukas made her feel five years old. But there had been nothing childlike about her response to him when he had lifted her into his boat, she thought ruefully, flushing as she remembered how her nipples had tingled when her breasts had brushed against his chest.

  She sighed. Her unexpected attraction to Loukas was another complication to add to the fraught situation of trying to complete Larissa’s wedding dress within a very tight deadline. She could only pray Larissa had spoken the truth when she’d said that her brother spent much of his time at his offices in Athens and often stayed at his apartment in the city, because she hoped to have as little to do with him as possible.

  The path wound up to the top of the cliff, and at the summit Belle paused to take in the view. An endless expanse of shimmering blue sea was on one side, dotted with islands, the closest of which was Kea. To the other side of her the landscape of Aura was mainly grey rock, green vegetation, tall, slender cypress trees and dense olive groves, beneath which grew a carpet of brilliant red spring poppies.

  ‘Do many people live on the island?’ she asked Loukas, who had slowed his pace so that she could catch up with him. ‘I see there is a village down in the valley.’