Irresistible Greeks: Dark and Determined: The Kanellis Scandal / The Greek's Acquisition / Along Came Twins…. Rebecca Winters

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       CHAPTER SEVEN

      THE two of them sprang apart like guilty lovers caught out enjoying a clandestine tryst. Burning flames licked across Zoe’s fair skin as she turned her head and stared dizzily at Anthea, who was standing on the terrace, her rounded shape lit from by the soft light spilling out from the open windows behind her.

      Anton sizzled out a curse beneath his breath, released Zoe’s chin then stepped around her with the cool swiftness of a man intent on honing the housekeeper’s attention onto him. ‘Good evening, Anthea,’ he greeted smoothly as he strode forward. ‘Am I too late for dinner?’

      ‘Of course not,’ said the housekeeper. ‘Kostas rang to tell me you were walking home along the beach.’ The older woman received an affectionate brush of his lips against her cheek. ‘How long do you need to shave that prickly beard off your face? Thespinis Kanellis must be starving, for she has not eaten since she arrived.’

      ‘Give me ten minutes to make myself presentable for the dinner table,’ she heard Anton say as the two of them walked into the house, leaving Zoe standing alone in the darkness struggling to cool the heat from her face.

      I almost ate him, she thought in horror. What did she think she was playing at? What was he playing at?

      Dragging a large gulp of warm, sultry air into her lungs, she let it all out again. Being around Anton Pallis was like balancing on a knife edge; she never knew which way she was going to fall off it or whether she was going to cut herself on his sharp edge.

      There was nothing sharp about the pulsing throb currently in control of her body; Zoe mocked herself. Right now her lips felt soft and hot, pumped up and trembling with frustrated anticipation. She lifted a hand up to press her fingers against the throb. It just had to stop, she told herself. She had to climb off this crazy emotional swing she was riding on which thrust her from dislike to desire with the lowest point churning into a potent mixture of both.

      Dinner turned into a strained affair, with Anton trying his best to make polite conversation and Zoe trying her best to find light responses while Anthea fussed around them like a mother hen.

      He offered Zoe wine but she refused, preferring to stick to spring water because she was already feeling intoxicated enough—by him. And her stomach, which had been crying out for sustenance half an hour ago, was now in a state of flux, not wanting to accept the small amount of the delicious creations she did manage to swallow.

      Complaining that Zoe did not eat enough to keep a bird alive, the housekeeper removed barely touched dishes and doggedly replaced them with new ones. As soon as the whole ordeal was over, Zoe escaped to bed as soon as she could.

      She tried to sleep but she couldn’t. She was a churned up, overwrought mess. And it was too quiet. She was used to the sounds of the city serenading her to sleep. The bed was too big and too soft; she was used to being weighted down by a heavy duvet not a couple of starched-white sheets.

      And she’d had to leave her bedroom door open, as with Toby’s door, because she was afraid she might not hear him when he awoke. What had become an ordinary routine in her own little house felt wrong in this house, as if leaving the door open was like offering an invitation.

      Wishful thinking, Zoe? a horrible little voice inside her head taunted her.

      ‘Oh, just shut up,’ she told it crossly, tossing over in the bed.

      She was actually glad when the first whimpering sounds of her brother wakening filtered over to her bed. Finger-combing her tangled hair as she walked, she padded across the landing and into her brother’s room just as his whimpers upped the volume into loud cries for attention.

      ‘OK, OK,’ she murmured soothingly, leaning over the cot to lift him out. ‘Hungry, hmm?’ She smiled down at him as she walked across to the fridge.

      Resting Toby in the cradle of one arm, she rocked him while she prepared his bottle, talking softly to him as she did, the routine second nature to her now.

      A sound coming from the bedroom doorway made her glance around. ‘Oh,’ she said.

      Anton was standing there wearing a pair of white boxers and a short grey robe he had not bothered to close around the hair-shadowed power in his muscled torso. The fact that she had not bothered to pull on a robe before leaving her bedroom plucked at her senses, making her acutely aware of how she must look.

      ‘He woke me up,’ he said, seemingly oblivious to his own state of undress, covering a yawn with the back of his hand. ‘Where is Martha? I arranged for her to be here to do the inconvenient stuff.’

      ‘I sent her to bed.’ Turning away, Zoe went back to what she had been doing. ‘She’s swatting for exams and needs her sleep. And taking care of my brother is not inconvenient,’ she added, keeping her voice even because Toby had stopped crying and was listening to her with his dark eyes fixed intently on her face. ‘I love caring for you.’ She smiled down at the baby.

      One of those silences he was so good at developing filled the space between them. Zoe wished he would go away but he didn’t. He just remained where he was, leaning now against the doorframe watching her as she continued with what she was doing with one-handed efficiency.

      He’d tied the belt on his robe by the time she turned to walk over to the settee. Studiously ignoring him, she curled up in a corner and settled the baby in her arms with his bottle. At last Anton broke the silence by heaving in a breath and shifting his stance.

      ‘I’m going to make a warm drink, do you want one?’

      About to refuse, she realised that her throat felt parched. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured politely. ‘That would be nice.’

      He went away and reappeared ten minutes later with a tray СКАЧАТЬ