Mediterranean Mavericks: Greeks

A soft breeze pushed it against her legs, outlining the lean, toned length of them.

Heat thrummed in every pore, his arousal painfully instantaneous.

He wanted to see if she was just as silky everywhere, he wanted to see that glorious hair, right now piled atop her head and falling from it, spread against his pillows, he wanted to feel that mouth against every inch of him…

Leah affected him like no other woman ever did, or could. Whether it was because she was his wife or because she was inherently Leah—beautiful, demanding, lively—he wouldn’t know.

All he knew was that she was destroying every assumption he had made of her, inching toward her goal, once again, changing his life irrevocably.

But he couldn’t let her go, not until he knew the truth about Calista. Not until he knew everything there was to know about Leah.

Not until he had tasted that luscious mouth one more time.

Just this once, he would reach for what he wanted, he would take what he craved and damn his sense of duty.

The strangest expression glittered in Stavros’s eyes. Her gaze followed the corded length of his thighs as he chose the chair wedged against hers. The memory of how hard and welcoming he had been beneath her suffused her face with warmth. Hoping they would think it was the sun, she smiled pleasantly for Giannis’s benefit.

Giannis slowly got up from his chair, and both Stavros and she rose from theirs. Grabbing his walking stick, he waved them off. “It is time for me to rest. You both sit,” he said with such a teasing twinkle in his eyes that Leah sighed like a deflated balloon.

How would Giannis face it when Stavros finally set her free? Would Stavros tell him?

The moment Giannis was out of sight, she stood up too, the very joy she had found this morning evaporating under her own conflicting emotions.

His fingers clamping her wrist, Stavros looked up. “Stay, Leah…please.”

The edgy request warned her not to argue.

Increasingly aware of the high-pitched chirp of a bird in the olive groves, the rustle of leaves, and the painful thud of her own heart, she studied him under the guise of bravely facing him.

As always, he was dressed in formal clothes but the shirt was unbuttoned, and his hair looked like he had messed it up quite a bit.

From the arch of his eyebrows to the straight line of his nose, from the way his mouth tilted up on one side when he smiled to the blunt nails of his long fingers, he was painfully familiar to her now…a desperate longing awoke in her, to trace that austere face, to taste him in tenderness, to just once meet him as his equal without lies and fears.

“How is your collection coming along?”

Blinking, she searched for an answer. “Very well. I finalized the design on the last dress. I’m terrified that it might not be as breathtaking as I think it is.”

“The wedding gown?”

The smile came naturally then. “Yes. I have to do the cutting on it. I’ve been taking the fabric, laying it all out and then just staring at it for hours… I can’t afford to…”

“You’re nervous?” he said with such genuine warmth that she flushed.

“It’s the prize of my collection but it means so much more to me. A wedding dress, as much as it has become a symbol of status and wealth and showing off in these days, it means a lot to a woman, right? It’s the one day she gets to be what she longs to be all her life.”

Somehow, he had moved closer to her. Her hand lay in his loosely, the pad of his thumb tracing the top of it gently. “What is that?”

“Beautiful, special, loved.” Pulling her hand away from him, she smiled to herself. “No matter what age, that day, she is the center of the whole universe for this one man…that day, it’s a new beginning, a fresh start, a promise she cherishes that her life will hold meaning to someone else. It’s the first day of a whole new way of life, of the most important, intimate relationship she’s ever going to have…and the wedding dress… it symbolizes all those hopes and dreams she’s ever cherished.”

Sensing his stillness, she turned and saw the lacerating pity in his eyes.

It was like the most vulnerable part of her, the part she even hid from herself, had been ripped open.

Shutting her eyes to stop the heat building behind, she saw what he remembered.

She had married in a ghastly cream silk dress that had been too tight on her chubby body. With a stone-faced Dmitri as witness while Giannis lay in a hospital bed. Drowning in guilt over Calista, numb that she always seemed to be saying goodbye to loved ones, terrified about what Stavros intended, and hating herself…

That bleary day had been about punishment and penance, about duty and fear. Just as the moment after when he had pressed his mouth to hers, had been.

Even then she had been eager for his kiss, had clung to him in her shame when he had put her away from him, and wiped his mouth.

“At least, that’s the statement I want this collection to make, you know.” Her blasted voice wouldn’t stop quivering. “Like you said, it’s a career saturated with so many fresh faces that you can disappear in a second… You have to be able to put a new spin on your collection, present it almost like a story so that your consumers will fall in love with it, and that’s how—”

Clasping her chin, he turned her toward him. From casual to a vehement intensity, his expression changed in mere seconds. “Don’t, agape mou.”

Still, she tried to pretend. “You probably find this intensely boring.”

“Do I not deserve the truth even in this, Leah?” Resting on his haunches in front of her seat, he took her hand in his. The tenderness in his gaze unraveled her defenses. “Do not lie about something that is so important to you, do not cheapen what truly comes from your heart. Not this…”

“I…”

“Did you once dream like this too? Was marriage that important to you?”

Her throat raw, she nodded. “I believed in the sanctity of it once, yes. My father…I never knew my mother and I always used to get this sense that a part of him was gone with her. He loved me but his heart…it was with her. When you grow up seeing love like that, you believe in its power. You start hoping for it even when you know…” She shrugged, loath to betray herself even more.

“I’m sorry for ruining your dreams, Leah,” he said with such withdrawal, that it was Leah who held onto him this time. “You were a dangerous combination of recklessness and… I had to protect you from fortune hunters and—”

“Myself, of course.” But there was no real bite to her words.

She could not lie and absolve him of any of it. Despite wanting to hate him, she even understood why he had done it, but his apology touched something inside her. “I wanted a lot of things. But life happened. I’ll be fine, Stavros.”

He nodded and rose to his feet. “What will your collection be called?”

“New beginnings.”

“I do not know about dresses…” he said with such a straight face that she laughed, “but the passion I hear in your words, I am sure it will come through in what you do, ne?”

“You think so?”

“I believe that it will.”

He said it with such confidence that a snippet of conversation she had heard between him and Giannis came back to her. Her grandfather had been asking Stavros about his contacts with major design houses and Stavros had been patiently explaining who would be open to launching a new label with a fresh designer.

Pushing her chair back, she stood up, her stomach in knots. “Your belief in me is encouraging, but I can’t forever be ensconced safely in this world that Giannis and you have created for me. I can’t let you and him launch a label for me using your contacts and the might of…

“If you meant your apology, if anything has changed in how you see me—” she could feel heat rising in her cheeks, but she continued stubbornly “—you’ll stop arranging my life in cahoots with him.”

“He wants to do it for you because he cares—”

“Becoming successful because I’m the Katrakis heiress or Stavros Sporades’s wife will forever ruin my joy in this. Will you do that to me again, Stavros?

“Please… allow me the freedom to succeed or fail on my own merit. Tell Giannis to stop with this launching my label nonsense.”

“If you haven’t realized it, your grandfather has a will of iron—”

“And you can convince him that you could walk on water, so get him to back off.”

Smiling, he nodded. “Anything else?”

She hesitated, which in itself, held Stavros’s attention instantly.

“After that imperious command, what can be so hard, Leah?”

“I have been researching various fashion events and programs around the world and there’s one in Athens tomorrow night that caught my attention.”

“Ahhh…that’s why the uncharacteristic call to my office.”

She let his comment pass. “It’s like a co-op event, to be exact, an incubator for fashion design. No big labels or famous designers. Instead your… Helene and a group of fashion icons like her provide a stage for up-and-coming designers to showcase their talents. My application is ready. But I…”

He waited patiently.

“The entry fee is pretty hefty. Even with that, anyone who gets picked has to actually come with a recommendation from one of the event coordinators.”

Wariness and pity filled his eyes and Leah blanched at it. “Helene is one of those rare women who won’t take you on to do me a favor, Leah. In fact, recommending you to her will only lessen your worth in her eyes.”

She shook her head, wondering if he would always think her less than capable, less than what she was. Did she have anyone but herself to blame if he did?

And why, in God’s name, did the thought hurt so much?

“No, all I want is an introduction to her. My collection, at that point, will hopefully speak for me and garner her recommendation. Even if she doesn’t like it, I will still get some exposure to the industry folks.” Even as she confidently made her case, another tension filled her.

Just admitting the fact that Helene knew Stavros in a way Leah never would, made her want to throw up.

How could he mention the other woman so glibly? Where was his honor now, she wanted to demand. But to ask would be to show that she cared. That she spent entire afternoons wondering how he justified breaking his vows to her so boldly.

Was she so completely and irrevocably only a responsibility that he didn’t think he was cheating on her?

Standing up from his chair, he extended a hand to her. “I’m sure I can convince her to give us ten minutes before the show begins.” He stood tall and broad and incredibly handsome in front of her. His gaze was on her mouth; he was thinking about their kiss, she knew. Because it was impossible not to think about it. “But I need something from you in return, Leah.”

The soft intonation of her name stole her breath.

He had changed toward her if he was asking and not commanding. And whatever the reason, he was even more irresistible and dangerous now.

The judging, dominating Stavros, she could hate. This insightful, approachable Stavros…she didn’t stand a chance.

Spending a few days with Giannis and amassing a lifetime of memories was one thing. But tangling with Stavros, who would demand everything she had to give and more, who would bare her body and soul…she couldn’t risk the pain of knowing him and then losing him.

“What,” she finally managed.

“I will ask you some questions before the event. If I get a truthful answer, I will introduce you to Helene.”

“Anything else I can do instead?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to snatch them back.

He only stared at her with that intensity again. “If you won’t tell me the truth, then how about a kiss?”

“You’ve already proved that I…I can’t resist you. There is no reason for you to kiss me anymore.”

He pushed a stray tendril of hair back from her forehead. And she stood very still in the wake of sensations that small touch aroused. “There is a reason.”

“What?”

“That I wish to. It is only when I kiss you that I know you, Leah.”

Warmth pooled in her belly, every word out of his sensuous mouth a caress and a promise. “What happened to that phenomenal willpower of yours that had the rest of us quaking in our boots?”

Laughter—hearty, gorgeous, and spine-tingling, enveloped her. “In this case, I have decided not to employ it.

“You can see Helene, Leah, but you shall have to give me your truths or your kisses. The choice is yours.”

How very neatly he had trapped her, how very stupid she had been in challenging fate when she had said Stavros knew nothing but duty. His words now were honeyed, so damn seductive that her heart thudded. “What if I asked you questions?”

“But I have never lied to you. However, if you ask me a question and I do not tell the truth, you are free to kiss me, as much as you want to.”

“Thanks but no thanks,” Leah managed to say, past the whooshing of her heart.

Turning away from him, she ran back to the sanctuary of her workroom, wondering what had suddenly unleashed this facet of Stavros.

Her wedding gown wasn’t done, but she had three other dresses she could take with her for tomorrow. Swiftly, she removed the dresses from their plastic bags and looked them over for anything to fix.

Countless hours later, she wrapped them back in the hanging bags and zipped them up.

Her heart thudded as she pulled another dress, a dress she had made for herself almost a year ago. The design had literally begged to be borne onto paper, and she had finished it in less than a week.

It was simply cut yet daring, a dress that would say all the right things about its designer. In the end, she decided to brave it out and wear it tomorrow night.

Brave because tomorrow night was going to be dangerous in so many ways that she wanted to turn the time back to a couple of months ago when it had been just her and the apartment and her blistering hatred of him…

Whatever truth he was hunting, it wouldn’t be anything she’d want to tell. Which left her to face his kisses…

Running a comb through her messy hair, Leah stilled. A glimmering energy in her gaze, her pulse beating with a frenzied clamor, she looked like a stranger.

She looked almost happy.

CHAPTER TEN

HE WAS GOING to lose in his own game, Stavros decided ruefully as Leah walked down the steps of the house the next evening.

A game the likes of which he had never before thought of.

He was still amazed at how easily Leah made him laugh, tease, even think of absurd scenarios just for a chance to touch her.

Thin, almost flimsy straps at her shoulders held up the black dress. The hem of the dress, startlingly white, ended high above her knees in the front but fell to her ankles at the back.

Animal-print pumps showed toned calves when she walked down the steps.

All in all, the dress was simply elegant. Or so he thought until she moved, waiting against his Maserati.

A flash of creamy thigh greeted his greedy gaze. The clinging material outlined her braless breasts when she took another step. A sudden breeze highlighted the tips of her nipples as she neared him.

Pure, liquid lust hit him hard, and every muscle in his body tightened, readying for pleasure.

Begging, at this point, if he was honest.

Smoky shadow and dark red lipstick turned her face from pretty to siren… Thick glorious waves framed her fragile features… Her cheeks were pinkened by the time she stood in front of him…

Was that his perusal that had done this to her? Would she tell the truth when he asked or would she prefer to be kissed?

Cristos, he would never even want truth this way. All he would want was to kiss her again and again.

Because he didn’t know what was the right step anymore. He didn’t know where his duty ended and his need for her began…he didn’t know if he was making reparations for the mistake he had made or if he just wanted to see her smile for his own selfish reasons…

For the first time in his life, Stavros was lost, didn’t care about right or wrong. Only how startlingly alive he felt when he was with Leah.

“Hey,” she said, reaching him.

He nodded, still absorbing the effect of her smile. She looked excited, almost happy, and he felt like he had done something right for the first time in so long.

She pointed to the top of the stairs. “So I packed up some of my collection…will you help bring it to the car?”

Inordinately pleased that she was flustered at seeing him, he halted her with a hand on her arm. “You look gorgeous.”

She blinked, and then looked at him almost shyly. “Thanks, it’s one of my own designs.”

“It’s insubstantial, sophisticated and outrageously sexy. I figured out that much.”

By the time they had arrived at the venue, Leah couldn’t sit still, much less think straight. And the pleasant conversation with Stavros, the way his gaze lingered over her mouth for a fraction of a second longer every time she turned toward him, it was like she was being pumped with a bit of electricity.

The powerful Maserati crawled to a stop at a centuries-old hotel and a uniformed valet immediately ran up to them. The locks turned on with a click on the doors. Frowning, she turned toward him. “What is it?”

“Time for my first question, pethi mou.”

“What…now?” The intensity in his expression sent tingles up and down her body. “Stavros, I’m going to show my collection to a group of intimidating professionals who make or break designers on a whim. This is not the time for some silly game that I lose whichever way—”

“Why? Do you have so much to hide?”

That shut her up promptly. “Fine,” she said, bracing herself for a lacerating question.

“My estate, what did you truly think of it?”

“Austere and isolated, like you.” The lie was so automatic, so swift that only after hearing it in the lush interior of the powerful vehicle did she realize that she had said it.

His gaze instantly fell to her mouth. “Liar.”

In a movement that was like slow motion, he wrapped his hand around her nape and slanted his lips over hers. The gear shift dug into her side, her torso was twisted to the side, but the hot taste of Stavros’s mouth…it numbed her to everything else but him.

There was no soft seduction in this kiss, no gentle erosion of her senses. No intent to dominate or control…only to take pleasure…

He pressed and licked, sucked and stroked, made love to her mouth with such raw passion that Leah couldn’t breathe.

Gasping for breath, moaning in the back of her throat, she wrapped her fingers around his nape. A blistering heat spread through her, pooling at her sex as his large hand caressed her knee, climbing up her thigh…

His mouth trailed wet heat over her jaw. Sucked at the pulse at her neck. An arrow of sensation went straight to her sex and she squirmed in frustration. “God, please…”

Those devilish lips opened against her skin and she felt his smile. “I would like nothing but to continue, gaelika mou…”

Her forehead flopped against his shoulders, her lungs burning for breath. “Fine, I lied. I…love that estate. It’s the most beautiful, most peaceful place I have ever seen in the world. Even Giannis’s estate cannot compare against such simple, stark beauty.”

His silence reverberated in the interior, the remnants of lust making the tawny irises wide. “Now I wish I had shown you my bedroom.”

Their gazes collided and Leah shifted in her seat, unbearable to be in her own skin. The rub of her thighs when she crossed her legs, the rasp of her dress against her nipples, every inch of her sparked with awareness. It was like the powerful car they were sitting in. She was all revved up by that kiss and yet, there was no relief.

All evening, this was what he was going to do to her. No wonder he had looked so damn interested in taking her.

How, despite all her efforts to the contrary, was it that Stavros always ended up with all the power? “You’re enjoying torturing me like this, aren’t you?” she whispered.

The locks on the door opened with a click. “It’s very little compared to the torture you put me through all these years, pethi mou.”

Having nothing suitable to contest that with, Leah stepped out of the car on legs that could barely hold her up.

Her dress bags draped over his shoulder casually, Stavros caught her. “Smile, Leah. The world’s not going to know what’s hit them when they see your creations.”

With her hand over his arm, she stopped him. There was nothing but sincerity in his expression. “I would not jest over something that is so important to you, Leah.”

No, he wouldn’t, she realized. Whatever he decided her fate to be in the end, she would always have his support in this too.

God, how had she always been the one with such tunnel vision? How easily she had chosen to hate him, had chosen to see only the surface of him?

“How can you be so sure that I will succeed?”

“All these years, you have hidden so many things from me, and even from yourself, maybe? But when I enter your workroom, I feel all your energy, your passion. I see all of you, Leah. Such pure passion—” his gaze flicked to her mouth “—people can’t help but fall in love with it.”

Throwing her arms around him, Leah kissed his cheek on an impulse. The fact that a man of such willpower and discipline as Stavros believed in her dream just made her day perfect. That a man like him belonged to her, at least for tonight, it made her blood pound.

Stavros handed over Leah to Helene and accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter. The expression on Leah’s face when they had entered the huge, buzzing auditorium, her exclamations as she noticed and pointed out one fashion icon after another, it had been a delight to see.

The soft touch of her lips on his cheek, he could still feel it. Her mouth had been such heaven under his and knowing that all he had to do was push his hands under that hem, that he could bare her and feast his eyes on her…it had taken him everything to bite down the urge to make love to her right there in the car.

The banquet hall where they were serving pre-show drinks and hors d’oeuvres was overflowing with designers and actresses and fashion icons, one more gorgeous than the next. And yet it was Leah his gaze followed hungrily as she flitted through the long hall, her dress sinuously draping her lithe curves.

After a while, he walked through the crowd, found her and introduced her to some more people he knew. A bittersweet feeling filled him as she introduced herself as Leah Huntington with a wary glance at him.

But, whatever his own seesawing feelings when it came to her, he found he couldn’t begrudge her the need to be herself, tonight of all times.

She returned to his side in the auditorium a quarter of an hour before the runway show was about to begin.

Her brown eyes glittered with a joy he had rarely, if ever, seen. “Now that it’s too late, I’m so beginning to see the benefits of being your wife.” Her words were rushed, falling over each other. “Damn, you have some pull, man.”

He was as committed to his vows as he had ever been, if not more. He arrested the words, remembering how hurt she had been when he had mocked their marriage once.