Greek Millionaire, Unruly Wife

His child.

His gut coiled, and his chest tightened. Never again would he fall for her seductive spell, her coquettish ways, and her velvet tongue. A grunt staggered upward from his belly and near exploded from his mouth.

She snapped her head up from tying the laces at her cleavage, and lifted a shapely brow.

“Need help with the tie?” He challenged her query with his raised eyebrow, and then slammed it level over his eye.

“No thank you.” She stepped back, her mouth half open like she was about to spit venom his way, then sealed her lips.

“Anything breakable in here?” He indicated her bag, his tone rougher than he intended.

“No.”

Against the backdrop of sea and sky, she stood tall and leggy in her white shorts, her skimpy top playing peek-a-boo with her midriff, the laced neckline dipping to the swell of her breasts. Red-hot memories taunted him, and he crushed them beneath his savage thoughts. Having to bargain for his child soured his tongue, scoured his belly, and blew his mind. His body though never missed a beat, primed and ready for her.

He tossed one bag over his shoulder and gripped the other in his fist, squashing the erotic kick in his gut.

Sunglasses shielded her eyes and a visor-cap shadowed her features, keeping her ponytail in place. The sea breeze tossed loose tendrils across her face, and he wanted to wrap the fickle curls around his index finger, cup her cheek and feel the silky smoothness of her skin.

His lungs inflated with air, and he clamped his teeth tight, exhaling through his nose.

Julia Armstrong Leonadis. Her name linked with his, booted up his temperature and sexual drive for this woman he’d made his wife for a brief time. This fashion model that was a combination of contrasts…mystery and innocence…fire and ice.

A scowl bit into his features.

Tonight he’d turn up the heat and melt the icecap sheathing her, and ensure an inferno blazed between them. A cruel twist marred his mouth. He’d take his due, secure what belonged to him and cast this hot deceptive babe adrift by the month’s end.

“This way.” He inclined his head toward the luxury yacht with the Leonadis Cruise Line logo and Lady One emblazoned across the bow. “The weekend will zip by soon enough.”

“Not quickly enough for me.” She marched past him across the dock, paused at the ramp and tapped her foot, her scarlet polished nails peeking from her roped sandals.

Chuckling, he stepped up behind her, so near his hips brushed her buttocks, and bending his head, he skimmed his mouth across her ear. “You might change your mind.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” she snapped, jumping aside. She pushed her hands in the back pockets of her shorts, and stretched the cotton material of her cropped top across her breasts, unknowingly belting him with an erotic jolt smack center.

“Too bad.” He walked the gangplank, tossed the bags on deck and hopped aboard the cruiser. “Come.” She stepped onto the gangway, and when she drew closer, he extended a hand to help her onboard. “Watch your step.”

“I’m fine.” She twisted away, but the momentum bumped her off balance and clutching air, she headed for a dive in the ocean. “Oh noooo!”

An expletive exploded from Michalis’ mouth, and he vaulted for her; the impact knocked him off axis, and he leaned backward boatside, landing on coils of rope and safety gear, his body cushioning her against the brunt of impact.

“Oomph!” he said, his aviators shooting off his nose.

“Oomph!” she said, her sunglasses flying into the air.

“I got you.” He tightened his arms around her, and she jostled against him, her cheek pressed to his, her lips brushing the corner of his mouth.

Instantly she pulled back, her eyes colliding with his, her mouth parted, her breath grazing his lips. Her perfume, moist sunshine and roses stimulated, and he yanked her back into his embrace; her breasts crushing against his chest, her pelvis chaffing his hips, spiking his male counterparts on full alert.

A kick of emotion…er lust speared his gut, and he saw it reflected in her gaze.

“Julia …”

“Michalis…”

An ocean liner far out at sea blew its horn, the hollow sound penetrating through the haze of passion.

Julia fluttered her eyelashes, and seeming to come to her senses, struggled in his arms. “Let go.”

A fueled moment, his libido warring with common sense, and then abruptly, he opened his arms. “Okay.”

Just for a split second, confusion glazed her face, and tottering on his chest, she rolled over onto the deck. He leaped up, reached down and grabbing her elbow, hauled her to her feet. “Anything else?”

“No…yes…plenty.” She shoved him back, the strap of her top sliding off her shoulder and revealing a vision of cleavage.

“Go for it,” he muttered, the subtle innuendo flaring between them. Tensing his abs, his gaze bumped from her breasts to her posterior then glided down the length of her tanned legs, to her roped feet. A toe-ring gleamed on one of her toes, and he shook his head, amazed.

“I intend to.” She adjusted her strap and swept past him, glancing around for her shades.

“Missed your chance,” he said, a gust of wind whipping his hair. “It’ll have to wait ’til we get to the hotel.” What else would he find when he undressed her? A pierced belly button? A tattoo? Sweet sensation whacked his gut at the thought of suckling that part of her anatomy before nibbling his way lower to—

“Where might that be?”

He swept up her sunglasses, sauntered closer and hooked them on the neckline of her top, his fingers brushing the swell of her breast. She sucked in a whoosh of air. Pleased, he grinned and propped his shades on his nose.

“The Mermaid’s—”

She paled, batting her lashes.

Was that a sheen of moisture or a glint of sunlight in her eye? He shrugged and chose the latter, easing the nick to his conscience.

“You wouldn’t…”

“I did.”

She hooked a stray curl behind her ear and set her sunglasses on her nose. “You have a bizarre sense of humor.” Was her voice just a little strained?

“If you say so,” he ground out, his words barely audible. Swiping his finger around the collar of his tennis shirt, he noted the perspiration glazing her upper lip. “Would you…if you’d like a drink, there’s some in the fridge down below.”

“I know where they are.” Julia skirted a wide girth around him, back-stepping all the way. “I remember.”

“Then you must also remember—”

“I’d rather not,” she bit back, crunching down the lure into the past. Every image, touch, kiss … every nuance of their honeymoon night had been seared into her heart.

The prelude had begun on the yacht beneath the stars, spotlighted by the moon and serenaded by the ocean. It had been heaven. Later, at the enchanted Mermaid’s Grotto, a seduction of the senses combusted to the tempo of their heartbeats, and even the sea-foam washing over them hadn’t dampened a degree of their fervor.

She’d clung to him; her husband, her lover, her guy, until she thought she’d die from the exquisite torture in his arms.

“No.” It had been a million years ago… She’d been a carefree, laughing girl with the world at her feet and Prince Charming at her side. Her lips twisted in contempt. He’d morphed into the big bad ogre.

“Not thirsty?” Michalis heaved equipment aside and checked the safety gear. “You mind bringing me up a beer?”

She snapped her teeth together, her response garbled, but he continued working, his back to her. His shoulder blades contracted, a sweat stain already dampening the t-shirt now drawn taut across his back, his biceps bulging with each heave-ho of the rigging.

A tremor rocked her senses, and she slammed her fist to her mouth, smothering the bleat of sound. Not long ago, she’d thought she couldn’t breathe…function without him; never imagined leaving…leaving him.

Until that traitorous day… Bitterness stung her tongue, and she curled her hands, her fingernails biting into her palms.

But she had left with her pride in tatters, and harboring a secret.

Somehow, she had continued to breathe—one breath at a time…for her baby.

Images of all she’d, no, they’d had and lost branded her brain cells and tears blurred her vision. A repeat performance she couldn’t allow; wouldn’t stand. She batted her eyelashes behind her sunglasses, staying a sob with a swift suction of oxygen and almost keeled over. She lunged for the life preserver tacked to the wall, keeping herself upright, but still shaken.

The sob managed to work its way into her throat but she muffled the sound with the back of her hand. His cold and calculating agenda rattled her insides. What interest could he have in Amy, except as the carrier of the Leonadis bloodline? Julia narrowed her eyes, determined to navigate the month without any emotional bruises and no losses. Then, “Yasoo, Michalis,” the words a hush of sound between her fingers.

“Is that a yes to the beer?” He tossed a coil of rope in the lazerette, the stern storage area and barely glanced her way.

“More orders, Cap’n?” She spun around, and the tensing of his shoulders cued he hadn’t missed her sarcastic tone. Going on the offensive, she slapped him with a flippant remark. “Where’s the crew?”

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