What The Greek Wants Most. Майя Блейк

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      ‘Are you following me?’ she accused hotly as she approached him, her senses jumping with the possibilities and consequences of her discovery.

      ‘Not today. My trench coat and fedora are at the laundry.’

      ‘Keep them there. In this heat, you’d boil to death.’

      A smile broke across his face. ‘Do I detect a little unladylike relish in your voice, anjo?’

      ‘What you detect is high scepticism that you’re here by accident and not following me,’ she snapped.

      ‘You give me too much credit, agape mou. I asked for the best coffee shop in the city and I was directed here. That you’re here too merely confirms that assertion. Unless you go out of your way to sample bad coffee?’

      Before she could respond, he straightened and reached for the hand wrapped around her coffee. Curling his hand over hers, he brought his lips to the small opening on her coffee lid and tilted the cup towards him.

      He savoured the drink in his mouth for a few seconds before he swallowed.

      Inez fought to breathe as she watched his strong throat move. The slow swirl of his tongue over his lower lip caused darts of sharp need to arrow straight between her legs.

      ‘Delicious. And surprising. I would’ve pegged you for a latte girl.’

      ‘Which goes to show you know next to nothing about me,’ she retorted.

      He slowly raised his sunglasses and speared her with his mesmerising eyes. Although a smile hovered over his sensual lips, some unnameable tension hovered in the air between them. A charged friction that warned her all was not as it seemed.

      Hell, she knew that. Theo Pantelides spelled danger. Whether smiling or serious, dallying with him was akin to playing with electricity. Depending on his mood, you could either receive a mild static frizzle or a full-blown electrocution. And she had no intention of testing him for either.

      ‘Sim, I don’t know enough about you. But I intend to remedy that situation in the near future.’

      She shrugged. ‘It is your time to waste.’

      He merely smiled and turned towards his car.

      ‘I thought you came to get coffee?’ she probed, then bit her lip for prolonging a meeting she wanted over and done with. Last night she’d told herself to be thankful that she would never see this man again. And yet, here she was, feeling mildly bereft at the notion that he was leaving.

      He paused and his gaze slid over her. Immediately, she became supremely conscious of the white shorts and blue tank top she’d hurriedly thrown on this morning. Her hair was caught up in a ponytail because it helped keep it out of the way during her class. Her face was devoid of make-up except for the light sunscreen and the gloss she’d passed over her lips. All in all, she projected a much different image this morning than the sophisticated hostess she’d been last night.

      Catching herself wondering whether he found her wanting now, she mentally slammed the thought down. She didn’t care what Theo thought of her.

      ‘I have the kick I need to keep me going. See you tonight.’

      ‘Tonight? Why would you be seeing me tonight?’ she demanded.

      His smile slowly disappeared as his gaze slid over her again. This time, his hot gaze held an element of possessiveness that made her fight to keep from fidgeting under his keen scrutiny.

      Stepping back, he activated a button on his car key and the door slid smoothly upward. She watched, completely captivated, as he lowered his tall masculine frame inside the small space. A touch of a slim finger on a button and the engine roared to life.

      ‘Because I want to see you. And I always get what I want, Inez,’ he said cryptically, his tone suddenly hard and biting. ‘Remember that.’

      * * *

       I always get what I want.

      Another shiver of apprehension coursed down her spine.

      All through the two art and graphic design classes she taught from ten till midday, the infernal words throbbed through her head as if someone had set them on repeat.

      She managed to keep her focus, barely, as she demonstrated the differences between charcoal and pencil strokes to a group of ten-year-olds. Once or twice she had to repeat herself because she lost her train of thought, much to the amusement of her pupils, but the satisfying feeling of imparting knowledge to children who would otherwise have been left wandering the streets momentarily swamped the roiling emotions that Theo had stirred with his unexpected appearance this morning.

      The suspicion that he had been following her didn’t go away all through her hurriedly taken lunch and the meeting she’d scheduled with the volunteer coordinator at the centre.

      Her decision to forge her own path by seeking a permanent position at the centre had solidified as she’d tossed and turned through the night.

      Seeking her independence meant finding a paying job. To do that she needed more experience, which she hoped her longer hours spent volunteering would give her.

      Thanks to her father’s interference, all she had was one semester at university. It wasn’t great but, until such time as she could further her education, it was better than nothing. That plus her volunteering was a starting point.

      A starting point that was greatly enhanced when the coordinator agreed to increase her hours to three full days.

      She was smiling as she activated her phone on the way to her car after leaving the centre.

      The first text was from Pietro, reminding her that they were dining out that evening. With Theo Pantelides.

      The unladylike curse she uttered won her a severe look of disapproval from an elderly lady walking past. The urge to text back a refusal was immediate and visceral.

      After last night and this morning, exposing herself to the raw emotions Theo provoked was the last thing she needed.

      And even more than her suspicions this morning, she had a feeling he’d engineered this dinner. Hell, he’d as much as taunted her with it with his last words to her this morning.

      As much as she tried to think positive and hope that the dinner would be quick and painless, a premonition gripped her insides as she slid behind the wheel and headed home.

      * * *

      ‘Filho da puta.’ Her brother’s habitual crude cursing wasn’t a surprise to her. That it had seemingly come out of nowhere was.

      ‘What’s wrong?’ She eyed him as they stepped out of the car at the marina of the exclusive Rio Yacht Club just before seven p.m.

      She pulled down her box-pleated hem and wished she’d worn something a little longer than the form-fitting mid-thigh-length royal-blue sleeveless dress. The traffic had been horrendous and she’d arrived home much later than planned. The dress had been the nearest thing to hand. Now she stared down at the four-inch black platform heels she’d СКАЧАТЬ