Mediterranean Mavericks: Greeks. Кейт Хьюит

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СКАЧАТЬ with raindrops. She knew she should tell him to get lost before slamming the door shut in his face but the powerful impact of his presence made her hesitate just as the siren tug of her body betrayed her yet again. Because he was just so damned gorgeous…with his muscular physique and that classical Greek face with the tiny bump midway down his nose.

      ‘What are you doing here?’ she said coldly. ‘Did you think of a few more insults you’d forgotten to ram home?’

      His lips curved into an odd kind of smile. ‘I think you left…this.’

      She stared down at the cream shawl he was holding, her heart automatically contracting. It was an old wrap which had belonged to her mother—a soft, cashmere drift of a thing embroidered with tiny pink flowers and green leaves. These days it was faded and worn, but it reminded her of the woman her mother used to be and a lump rose in her throat as she lifted her gaze to his.

      ‘How did you find out where I live?’ she questioned gruffly.

      ‘It wasn’t difficult. You signed the visitors’ book at the gallery, remember?’

      ‘But you didn’t have to bring it yourself. Couldn’t you have asked one of your minions to do it?’

      ‘I could. But there are some things I prefer not to delegate.’ He met her eyes. ‘And besides, I don’t think we’ve quite finished our conversation, do you?’

      She supposed they hadn’t and that somehow there seemed to be a lot which had been left unsaid. And maybe it was better that way. Yet something was stopping her from closing the door on him. She told herself he had gone out of his way to bring her mum’s shawl back to her and he was very wet. Did he sense her hesitation? Was that why he took a step forward?

      ‘So aren’t you going to ask me inside?’ he persisted softly.

      ‘Suit yourself,’ she said carelessly, but her heart was thumping like a crazy thing as she walked back into the little bedsit and heard him shut the door to follow her. And when she turned round and saw him standing there—so powerful and masculine—her breasts grew hot and heavy with desire. Why him? she thought despairingly. Why should Ariston Kavakos be the only man who should make her feel so insanely alive? Her smile was tight. ‘Though if you’re going to try to justify your ridiculously controlling behaviour, I wouldn’t bother.’

      ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ he questioned silkily.

      ‘It means that you turn up and suddenly send your brother away to sea—just to get him away from me. Isn’t that a little desperate?’

      His lips hardened. ‘Like I told you. He already has a girlfriend. A young woman of Greek origin who has just qualified as a doctor and is light years away from someone like you. And if you must know, the business in the Gulf is both urgent and legitimate—you flatter yourself if you think I’d manufacture some kind of catastrophe just to remove him from your company. But I’m not going to lie. I can’t deny I’m happy he’s gone.’

      She felt the sting of his words yet she could almost understand his concern—even though it was misplaced—because the contrast between her and Pavlos’s girlfriend couldn’t have been greater. She could imagine how Ariston must see it, in that simplistic and chauvinistic way of his. The qualified professional doctor versus someone with barely an exam to her name. If he’d gone about it differently—if he’d asked her nicely—then Keeley might have done what he wanted her to do. She might have given him her word that she’d never see Pavlos again—which was probably true in any case. But he wasn’t asking, was he? He was telling. And it wasn’t so much the contempt in his eyes which was making her angry—it was the total lack of respect. As if she meant nothing. As if her feelings counted for nothing. As if she was to spend the rest of her life paying for one youthful mistake. She tilted her chin upwards. ‘If you think you can tell me what to do, then you’re wrong,’ she said. ‘Very, very wrong.’

      Ariston stiffened because her defiance was turning him on and that was the last thing he wanted. He’d come here ostensibly to return the shawl she’d left behind and yet part of him had wanted to see her again, even though he’d convinced himself he was only looking out for his brother’s welfare. In the car he had briefly buried his nose in the soft cashmere and smelt Keeley’s faint and flowery perfume. He’d wondered whether she had deliberately left it behind to get his brother to come running after her when he arrived back in England. Had that been her not so subtle plan? Did she sense a softness in his younger sibling and a susceptibility to her blonde sexiness which could override what seemed to be a perfect relationship with his long-term girlfriend?

      He remembered how close she and Pavlos had been on that holiday, how they used to run around together all the time. People said the past had powerful and sentimental tentacles and she’d known his brother when he was young and impressionable. Long before he’d reached the age of twenty-five and come into the massive trust fund which had changed people’s attitude towards him, because wealth always did. Mightn’t Pavlos read more into his date with the sexy blonde than there really was and forget the safe and settled future which was carefully laid out for him? What if Keeley Turner realised that a fortune was there for the taking if she just went about it the right way?

      He glanced around her home, more surprised by her environment than he could remember being surprised by anything in a long time. Because this wasn’t just a low standard of living—this was breadline living. He’d imagined peacock feathers and glittery necklaces draped over mirrors. Walls dripping with old photos depicting her mother’s rather tawdry fame, but there was nothing other than neatness and an almost bland utilitarianism. The most overriding feature was one of cleanliness. His mouth hardened. Was that simply a clever ploy to illustrate what a good little homemaker she could be, if only some big and powerful man would take her away from all this and give her the opportunity?

      He’d been doing his best not to stare at her because staring only increased his desire and a man could think more clearly when his blood wasn’t heated by lust. But now he looked at her dispassionately and for the first time he registered that she was wearing some kind of uniform. He frowned. Surely she wasn’t a nurse? He took in a shapeless navy dress edged by a paler blue piping and then noticed a small badge depicting a bright, cartoon sun and what looked like a chicken drumstick underneath the words ‘Super Save’. No. His mouth twisted. Definitely not a nurse.

      ‘You work in a shop?’ he demanded.

      He could see the indecision which fretworked her brow, before she gave him another defiant tilt of her chin which made her lips look utterly kissable.

      ‘Yes, I work in a shop,’ she said.

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Why not?’ she questioned angrily. ‘Somebody has to. How else do you think all the shelves get stacked with new produce? Or, let me guess—you never actually do your own shopping?’

      ‘You’re a shelf-stacker?’ he asked incredulously.

      Keeley drew in a deep breath. If it had been anyone else she might have blurted out the truth about her mother and all the other dark stuff which had led her to having to leave so many jobs that, in the end, Super Save supermarket had been her unlikely saviour. She might have explained that she was doing her best to make up for all those lost, gypsy-like years by studying hard whenever she had a spare moment and was doing an online course in bookkeeping and business studies. She might even have plunged the very depths of her own despair and conveyed the sense of hopelessness she felt when she visited her mother every week. When she saw how the once vibrant features had become an unmoving mask while those china-blue eyes stared unseeingly into the distance. СКАЧАТЬ