Greek Mavericks: The Greek's Unforgettable Secret

‘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.

CHAPTER SIX

SHE HAD TRIED to get hold of Thea the next day, before she set off with Damon, but Thea had been having breakfast before an early rehearsal for the afternoon concert. And now Lizzie was out of touch, clinging to a handrail on board Damon’s powerboat as they crashed through breakers as high as houses on the open sea.

He was full of surprises. The value of his air, sea, and land craft alone would fund a small country, with change to spare. He was standing at the helm, controlling the massive craft with one hand, as casually if its immense power was just another extension of his magic.

He looked more like a marauding brigand than a respectable billionaire, with his swarthy skin and unshaven face, she thought, taking in the ripped and faded shorts, his bare feet and faded top.

‘Have you never been on a powerboat before?’ he asked as she lurched towards him.

‘The closest I’ve come to this is the cross-Channel ferry.’

‘Then it’s time to widen your horizons.’

She murmured in reply. She’d tried that once before, and now she preferred to limit her horizons to Thea.

‘So, where are we going?’ she asked. ‘No—don’t turn to look at me!’ she yelped as Damon swung round. ‘Shouldn’t you be concentrating on where you’re going?’

He laughed. ‘I know exactly where I’m going.’

Yes. That was what she was afraid of, and she only wished she felt half so confident as Damon looked.

Having rebuilt her life, Lizzie controlled it within certain boundaries, but those boundaries seemed to be disappearing fast. Telling Thea about Damon and then explaining to Damon that he had a daughter had seemed so straightforward in the planning, but time was rushing past and she seemed no further on.

‘Is this our destination?’ she asked as he slowed the powerboat. It was beautiful. She stared around with interest at the picturesque bay.

‘It’s called Cove Krýstallo,’ Damon explained. ‘Or Crystal Cove. This area has always been a favourite of mine on the island, and now I’ve built a house here.’

And not just a house but the most magnificent dwelling Lizzie had ever seen, she thought as he eased back on the throttle. The mansion was built of blush-pink stone. Low built, to blend in with its surroundings, it was elegant and vast. It could be called a beach house, she supposed, because of its seafront position, but it was a beach house fit for a billionaire.

She was so far out of the customary modest rut that she shared with Thea, it was becoming ridiculous.

‘We’ll be back for two. I haven’t forgotten,’ Damon said as she frowned and shook her head with incredulity.

‘Thanks.’ She supposed she should be grateful that he couldn’t read her mind.

As he turned away to lower the anchor she took stock. Apart from her anxiety at being introduced to yet another example of Damon’s incredible wealth, the consequences of being alone with him in this secluded bay were finally coming home to her. It didn’t help when a rogue wave crashed against the hull and she lost her balance, cannoning into him. As he steadied her his touch woke memories better forgotten.

She pulled away self-consciously and was glad when he made a joke of it.

‘Lost your sea legs?’ he suggested, staring at her with amusement.

‘I don’t think I ever had any.’

She could still feel his touch, where his hand had lingered on her shoulder, and feel the heat created when he had stared into her eyes.

There was no point in aching for something she could never have back, Lizzie told herself firmly. And why would she want it back? The last time she’d had sex with Damon he’d enjoyed it, and then had cut loose and disappeared. Only Thea had made that night more than worthwhile.

Thea had made Lizzie’s life incalculably richer, while Damon had played no part in her life aside from that one night. And she wasn’t eighteen now, twisting her mother’s dying wish for Lizzie to have a better and more adventurous life into an excuse to have sex with Damon here in his private cove.

‘Race you to shore?’ he suggested, straightening up after checking the anchor was safely attached to the seabed.

‘Do you need a head start?’ she suggested, straight-faced. It wasn’t too far to shore, and she was confident of her abilities in the water.

He laughed, and the ache of longing inside her increased.

‘I’ll give you a ten-minute head start,’ he offered, with the same deadpan expression.

‘You’ll be sorry,’ she warned with a laugh.

She was wearing a bikini beneath her shorts and top, and quickly stripped off.

Damon’s look scorched over her. Ignoring how that made her feel, she climbed onto the rail, telling herself that if ever there had been a need for the refreshing shock of chilly water, this was it.

She caught a glimpse of Damon’s half-smile as he watched her dive in. She also saw the power in his thighs and in his shoulders and back, and the taut outline of his buttocks beneath his faded denim shorts.

The next thing she knew she was shrieking with excitement as she surfaced. The all-embracing chill of the ocean after the balmy warmth on deck was just the reboot she needed. Kicking off strongly, she headed for the shore, with no thought in her head other than to get there before him.

She trod water to look back, only to see him closing in fast. She set off again, with the excitement of the chase driving her now. She was a strong swimmer, and competitive, but even with the waterproof pack containing their picnic to hamper him Damon was slicing through the water like an arrow. He soon passed her, and only slowed when he’d reached the shallows, where he stood and turned to watch her power in.

‘Not bad,’ he commented. ‘But I’ll carry you the rest of the way.’

‘You will not,’ she protested and, finding her feet, stood up.

She shrieked in complaint as Damon ignored her and swung her into his arms.

‘Put me down,’ she said, pummelling him as she struggled to break free. It was like beating her fists against rock.

‘If I put you down you’ll cut your feet on the shells,’ he said.

‘And you’ve got hooves?’ she shot back.

He laughed.

She’d forgotten how strong he was. Fighting him only brought her into more intimate contact with him. But still she couldn’t give up. ‘I’m not a baby, Damon. Put me down—’

‘And I’m not a nursemaid to waste my time bandaging your feet.’

Thwarted, she went as stiff as a board and tried her best not to relax against him. It wasn’t so easy to forget the last time Damon had carried her like this—which had been out of his shower and back to bed on the morning of her father’s trial. They’d made love again, and then he’d told her he had an appointment to keep.

She’d thought nothing of it at the time…until she’d seen him in the courtroom. If she’d learned one thing from that experience, it was that Damon could be ruthless.

He put her down on the cool, damp, close-knit moss above the shoreline. Dropping the waterproof pack on the ground, he helped her to set out their picnic.

When that was done, she sat back and leaned on her elbows with her face turned to the sky.

‘Penny for them?’ he asked as she sighed.

‘I was just thinking that it’s very beautiful here,’ she said, inhaling deeply as a cover for the fact that her thoughts, having travelled back to that night and that morning, and all the mixed emotions that had filled her eleven years ago, were refusing to settle down again.

‘It is very beautiful,’ he agreed, coming to sit at her side. ‘Lucky for you Iannis could put you up,’ he commented. ‘What made you think of coming to this island in the first place?’

Lizzie’s eyes flashed open. She was instantly on high alert. ‘Stavros suggested it,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m very lucky to have such good friends.’

‘You are,’ he agreed. ‘And it appears that fate is determined to throw us together.’

She huffed out a short laugh as Damon glanced at her. She couldn’t read his expression, but she knew enough to be wary. ‘Bad luck for both of us, I guess.’

‘If you say so,’ he murmured. Knocking the top off a bottle of beer, he brought it to his lips. ‘Whatever made you come here, you should take the chance to relax while you can. What have you got to lose?’

Everything, Lizzie thought as Damon drank deep.

Putting the beer down, he rested his chin on his knee and studied her face. ‘I’m glad you got rid of the lip ring.’

She touched her lip, feeling faintly affronted. ‘That was a long time ago.’

‘You’ve changed a lot,’ he agreed.

‘Eleven years.’ She shrugged. ‘What did you expect?’

Damon’s lips pressed down, but he didn’t answer.

‘Why didn’t you like my lip ring?’ she asked, frowning.

‘Because it got in the way when I kissed you.’

‘That isn’t…’ Heat ripped through her when Damon leaned in.

‘Isn’t what?’ he said. ‘Fair?’

‘Sensible,’ she said as he curved her a smile.

‘Sensible?’ he mocked, sitting back. ‘Is that what you are now?’

‘No one stays eighteen for ever, Damon.’

‘No,’ he agreed. ‘But whatever age you are you can still live and feel and dare.’

‘Oh, I dare,’ Lizzie assured him, angling her chin to stare him in the eyes. ‘I just don’t want to be hurt again.’

‘Hurt?’ He frowned. ‘Do you expect me to hurt you?’

‘I just know I won’t give you the chance.’

‘It was you who stormed off,’ he pointed out.

She couldn’t deny it. She had, Lizzie remembered.

‘Are you going storm off now?’ he asked.

‘As I said, I’m not eighteen.’

‘No. You’re much improved.’

The smile behind his eyes had just become dangerous. Being this close to him was dangerous enough, without that hard mouth teasing her with a faint smile. Her sensible mind said, Leave now, move away, make him take you back to the restaurant. But it was hard to be sensible when she wanted him so much.

She’d only have to move by the smallest degree for their lips to touch, and for Damon’s arms to close around her.

And then she did, and they did, and she was lost.

She was back.

The rush of triumph inside him was like nothing he’d ever known—not for eleven years, at least. She was everything he remembered and more, and she came to him as if their years apart had disappeared. She pressed against him, responding fiercely as he kissed her. She was strong and sure, and every bit his match.

Their tongues tangled as she clung to him, and when he eased her legs apart with his thigh she arced her body against his in the hunt for more contact. Cupping her buttocks with one hand, he unlaced the strings of her bikini with the other as they traded kisses hungrily.

Glancing down nearly wrecked his control. He was painfully and hugely erect, while Lizzie was as sensitive as he remembered. He only had to stroke her lightly to hear her purr. He parted her lips and found the tiny bud. He teased and then pulled away, then teased some more as she clung to him, gasping out her pleasure.

‘Beneath me now,’ he instructed softly.

There was no need to ask. Lizzie was way ahead of him.

‘Slowly,’ he advised as she bucked towards him.

‘Why?’ Her eyes challenged him.

‘Because it’s been a long time.’

She raised an amused brow. ‘Like I don’t remember?’

Neither of them could forget, it seemed. The memory of taking her, of sinking deep into Lizzie’s tight, moist heat, was seared on his brain for all time. Maximum control was essential as he prepared to rediscover the woman he had enjoyed like no other.

He stroked and kissed and took his time. Lizzie was all hunger and need, and he had to slow her down. Teasing her, he cupped her between the legs, denying her the contact she wanted.

He smiled as he watched her eyes darken. ‘I’ve got you now,’ he whispered.

‘You think?’ she whispered back.

‘Shall we put it to the test?’ he suggested, still teasing her with kisses.

‘This is your island, and this is your beach, so I guess you can do anything you like,’ she said, seeming pleased at this idea.

‘Do you want me to?’

‘What do you think I want you to do?’

He smiled as she moved restlessly beneath him.

Hearing foil rip, she lifted her hips, and she was so aroused that at his first intimate touch she was reaching greedily for release.

This was the Lizzie he remembered from eleven years ago. This was the woman with whom he’d made love on every surface in his apartment—including pressed up against the floor-to-ceiling windows, where anyone who’d wanted to could have seen.

‘You’re right,’ he agreed. ‘We—you,’ he amended as he pinned her wrists above her head ‘—can do anything you want to do while you’re here.’

‘Including to you?’ she said. ‘Can I use you for my pleasure?’

‘I don’t see why not.’ He grinned. ‘But that would be for my pleasure too.’ Pressing her knees back, he moved between them. ‘Hold them for me.’

‘Like this? So I’m exposed…?’

She sounded so excited.

He told her yes.

She did as he asked, and now her brown eyes were almost black, with just a rim of sepia around her pupils. She was right on the edge.

‘Don’t tease me,’ she warned.

‘Pleasure delayed is pleasure intensified,’ he taunted softly.

‘None of that rubbish now,’ she warned him.

Taking hold of his arms, she arranged herself to her liking and shuddered out a soft cry when he gave her just the tip.

‘What?’ he murmured, sinking deeper.

‘You…this…’

He rocked his hips forward and gave her a little more. He pulled out completely before sinking even deeper into her tight, warm grip. The pleasure was intense. It took everything he’d got to hold back so she could get used to the invasion. She was throbbing around him, insistently drawing him on. He only had to move the smallest fraction for her to wail and let go.

Helpless in the grip of violent release, she bucked frantically back and forth, while he held her in place, making sure that she benefited from every last pulse of pleasure.

‘Worth the wait?’ he murmured when she quietened.

She was still groaning rhythmically against his mouth as the pleasure pulses, having faded, continued. He started to move again and she immediately responded, moving with him, needing more.

Making love to Lizzie was instantly familiar all over again. He knew exactly what she needed, and it gave him the greatest pleasure to give it to her. The only change he noted was that her appetite had grown.

It was a long time later when he hauled her to her feet and they ran to cool down in the sea. He swung her into his arms both times, to avoid the shells, and when he carried her back to shore and they dressed she reminded him that they had to get back.

‘An appointment?’ he confirmed. ‘I remember. Sadly no time for the house today.’

‘Another time?’ she said.

‘Why not?’ he agreed.

As they linked fingers to walk along the sand, to a soundtrack of rolling surf and seabirds calling, he wondered if he’d ever felt closer to anyone. Trust was a great thing, and he was glad he’d got Lizzie’s back.

He was proud of her—not for that reason, but for the way she’d fought back after the trial. She’d barely spoken of it, but he knew she must have had a rough time. The spirit he remembered so well from eleven years back must have carried her through, and it was no wonder that Iannis and Stavros liked her so much, and Stavros had wanted her to come to the island.

Rediscovering her Greek heritage would be good for Lizzie. There was nothing like a return to the homeland for restoring confidence and faith in the future.

‘Your new house is very beautiful,’ she said, glancing over her shoulder. You must be very proud of it?’

‘I am,’ he admitted, ‘especially as I had the pleasure of helping to build it.’

‘That must have been great,’ she agreed.

He was pleased that she understood the pleasure he’d found in working with his hands. ‘It was,’ he confirmed.

He glanced back too. Looking at his new place through Lizzie’s eyes gave him the same thrill that he’d felt when he’d first sat back to study his design on paper. He’d planned for the house to be in complete harmony with its surroundings, and he believed he’d succeeded.

‘It’s fabulous,’ Lizzie confirmed as they both paused to admire it.

‘I did have some help,’ he admitted dryly. But he felt the pleasure that only a man who’d selected each piece of stone from the quarry could feel. ‘Without the craftsmen I employed it would never have been built. I worked as their lowly assistant.’

‘That must have been a bit different for you,’ she said, ‘but from the look on your face I guess you enjoyed it?’

‘More than you know,’ he agreed.

‘Well, it was well worth the effort. You’ve created something really beautiful.’

‘You’re beautiful,’ he said, swinging her into his arms. ‘And one day I will bring you back here.’

Would he? Lizzie wondered. Would Damon want her within a hundred miles of him when he found out the truth about Thea?

‘Beautiful’ didn’t begin to describe his new home. It was a dream home. It was the type of home Lizzie wished she could give to Thea.

And Thea’s father owned it.

Her mouth dried when she compared Damon’s glorious beachside mansion to the one room she shared with Thea in London when Thea was home from school. How could she deny Thea this incredible lifestyle? Thea could have half a dozen music studios and no one would ever complain about the noise.

‘You could paint here,’ Damon said.

She swung around to stare at him in confusion for a moment. Her head was so full of Thea, as it always was, that she couldn’t switch track to herself.

‘You used to love painting,’ Damon prompted. ‘I remember you telling me.’

‘I did,’ she agreed. Incredibly, on that night eleven years ago, they had grown close enough to discuss lots of things, including pastimes and hopes and dreams. ‘You told me that work was your hobby,’ she remembered.

‘Correct,’ Damon confirmed. ‘And it still is.’

‘I didn’t have a clue what you meant by saying that back then,’ she admitted. ‘I’d only just left school and had no idea that the world could be so tough.’

And the rest, she thought.

And now you do? Damon’s look said.

She didn’t deserve the compassion in his eyes. Damon had been forced to become even more work-obsessed after the trial, thanks to the damage done to his family’s business by her father. Damon had righted all those wrongs, but maybe life would have turned out differently for him if there’d been no fraud, no trial, and they had never met.

CHAPTER SEVEN

DAMON SEEMED DETERMINED to reassure her. ‘It’s good to have you back,’ he commented as they walked on.

And good to have you back, Lizzie thought, though she knew better than to expect it to be for ever.

She lowered her gaze so Damon wouldn’t be able to see how she felt about him.

‘I was worried I’d lost you again,’ he admitted. ‘I’d keep seeing flashes of the old Lizzie, but then she’d slip away.’

There was a good reason for that, Lizzie thought, hanging back. ‘You can’t recapture time, or make it stand still, Damon.’

‘But I can care that you were hurt,’ he argued firmly. ‘And I can care that I was partly responsible for causing that hurt. I can care that your father abandoned you, and your stepmother kicked you in the teeth when you had no one left to defend you—’

‘I didn’t need anyone to defend me. I was fine on my own—better, probably. I think we look at success differently, and I’m actually pleased with the way things have turned out.’

‘How can you be?’ he said frowning.

Thea was always front and foremost in her mind, and that left her nothing to complain about. ‘When I once had such big dreams, do you mean? I see things differently now. I don’t owe any money. I’ve got a roof over my head and enough food to eat.’ And, more importantly, a daughter she adored, and Thea didn’t go without anything if Lizzie could help it. ‘You don’t need to feel sorry for me,’ she said with absolute certainty.

‘I don’t feel sorry for you. I admire you,’ Damon insisted.