Greek Mavericks: The Greek's Unforgettable Secret. Кейт Хьюит

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      ‘And now we dance the kalamatianos!’ Iannis announced when the most delicious feast had been consumed.

      He made a signal and a chord rang out. All his guests wanted to join in the famous national dance, and there was a group exodus from the tables.

      ‘As my honoured guest, you shall have the honour of leading the dance,’ he told Lizzie, handing her the traditional white handkerchief to hold aloft.

      Her mother had taught her the steps of the dance when Lizzie was a child. They had often danced it together, with her mother humming the tune and Lizzie waving a little handkerchief over her head.

      ‘If you’d rather not…?’ Damon murmured.

      ‘Try and stop me,’ Lizzie said, standing up.

      The distinctive twang of the bouzouki was like a rallying call. The rhythm, starting slowly and building up, made each Greek heart swell with longing. Waving the white handkerchief, Lizzie was the Pied Piper, drawing her flock to the area in front of the restaurant where the beach met the land beyond.

      ‘I’d kick off your sandals,’ Damon advised.

      He was doing the same, she noticed. How ridiculous to find his feet sexy. She had to stop this now. One more dance and then she was definitely going to bed.

      It was as if a lightning bolt zapped through her when Damon seized one end of the white handkerchief, effectively joining them by a shred of cloth. Lizzie tightened her grip as Damon’s heat seemed to invade the fabric, scorching her fingers, travelling on from there to her heart—

      Really?

      She was tired. Her mind was inventing things. They were dancing and that was all. But it wasn’t just dancing, and it wasn’t just music, it was memories wrapped up in a tune: a little girl dancing with her mother, holding her hand and believing that life would stay the same for ever.

      ‘Lizzie…?’ Damon murmured with concern.

      Her eyes had filled with tears, she realised, dashing them away. ‘Why do you have to notice everything?’ she demanded impatiently.

      The music suddenly picked up pace, forcing all the dancers to watch their feet rather than chat to their companions. Arms stretched out and resting on each other’s shoulders, their cries of ‘Oopa!’ grew louder, and as the dancing grew wilder several couples collapsed on the ground, laughing. But the band didn’t stop.

      Soon it was Lizzie’s turn to grow dizzy, but as she stumbled Damon’s lightning reflexes saved her. ‘I’m going to show you the island tomorrow,’ he said as he steadied her on her feet.

      She glanced at him in surprise. ‘You can spare the time?’

      He’d never looked more dangerous, she thought, and he was waiting. Decisions had to be made. Common sense told her to stay away from him, but getting to know him all over again took precedence.

      ‘I’d have to ask Iannis.’

      ‘Would you?’ he flashed.

      They both knew Iannis was only too keen to keep his part of the bargain with his cousin, and give Lizzie as much free time as possible.

      ‘Maybe a couple of hours?’ she said.

      ‘Good. That’s settled.’

      ‘But I’d have to be back by two,’ she said, remembering Thea’s concert in the afternoon.

      ‘That’s no problem for me,’ Damon assured her.

      ‘Then, thank you. What time in the morning?’

      ‘Eight. And bring a picnic.’

      ‘Don’t you have flunkies to do that for you?’

      ‘They’re away with my butler at the moment.’

      Damon smiled, a flash of strong white teeth against his swarthy skin. She couldn’t match it. Things were moving too fast.

      She tried telling herself that if he could be as relaxed as this when he learned about Thea things would be okay, but she knew it wouldn’t be that simple.