Her Greek Groom: The Tycoon's Mistress / Smokescreen Marriage / His Forbidden Bride

She had nodded fiercely, and closed her eyes with determination.

When she’d awoken, early sun had been spilling through the slats in the shutters across the tiled floor.

The first thing she had seen was that all the things she’d used yesterday, including the beach towel, were lying pristinely laundered and neatly folded on the chair, and the white dress, which had been carefully draped there, had gone. Maria, it seemed, had performed a dawn raid.

Which I didn’t intend, Cressy had thought, as she slid out of bed and headed for the shower.

When she had gone down the outside stairs, Maria had been sweeping the courtyard. To Cressy’s embarrassment, it had been made immediately clear that she would be allowed to pay nothing for her night’s lodging or her meal. Nor would she be permitted to have the white dress cleaned.

‘It is my pleasure to do this for you,’ Maria declared. ‘Everyone say how beautiful you look in the dress.’

Cressy flushed a little. ‘Oh?’

‘Ah, yes.’ Maria gave her a roguish look. ‘And one person in particular, ne?’ She pointed to the table Cressy had occupied the night before. ‘Sit there, kyria, and I will bring you breakfast. Rolls and coffee, and some of the honey from my sister’s bees.’ She bustled off, leaving Cressy to take a careful look around, but she had the courtyard to herself, she realised with relief.

She consulted the list of ferry times in her bag, and saw that the first one ran in just over half an hour. She should make it easily.

Her meal also included fresh orange juice and a bowl of creamy yoghurt. By the time she got up from the table she was replete.

‘I can’t thank you enough,’ she told Yannis and Maria when they came to say goodbye to her.

‘You are welcome.’ Yannis’s hand closed over hers. ‘Welcome at any time. Your room will always be waiting.’

Cressy’s smile was a little taut. ‘Maybe—one day,’ she said. She hesitated. ‘And please would you thank Draco for me? He’s been—kind.’

She picked up her bag and headed down to the harbour, determined to be the first one on the ferry. But it wasn’t moored at the landing point she’d used yesterday. In fact she couldn’t see it anywhere, she realised frantically, shading her eyes and staring out to sea.

‘So you did not intend to say goodbye.’ Draco got up from the stack of wooden crates he’d been sitting on. The shorts he was wearing were just as disreputable as the previous pair, and he’d topped them with an unbuttoned white cotton shirt.

Cressy lifted her chin. ‘I—I left a message with Maria.’

‘Now you can give it to me in person.’

Exactly what she hadn’t wanted. She said stiltedly, ‘Just—thank you, and good luck.’

‘I believe in fate more than luck.’ He looked her over, smiling faintly. ‘Last night you were Cressida,’ he said. ‘But today you are Sid again. What will you be tomorrow, agapi mou?’

She shook her head. She said, almost inaudibly. ‘I don’t think I know any more.’

‘Perhaps you are being reborn,’ he said. ‘Rising like a phoenix from the ashes of your former life.’

She threw back her head. ‘But I don’t want that. I’m quite content with things as they are.’

‘Content?’ There was scorn in his voice. ‘Is that the most you can wish for? What a small, narrow word, when there is excitement, passion and rapture to be experienced.’

‘Perhaps,’ she said, ‘I like to feel safe.’

‘There is no safety, agapi mou. Not in life. Not in love. As you will discover when you stop running away.’ He shrugged. ‘But if you wish to return to Alakos and the comfort of your hotel, I will take you.’

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘But I’ll wait for the proper ferry.’

‘Then you’ll wait a long time,’ he said drily. ‘Kostas drank too much Metaxa last night on Alakos. There will be no ferry until tonight.’

Cressy gasped indignantly. ‘Is he allowed to do that?’

Draco grinned. ‘He does not usually wait for permission. It is my boat or nothing, pethi mou.’

She gave him a fulminating glance, then sighed. ‘All right. Your boat. Just as long as I get back to Alakos.’

‘Why the hurry? Are you so sure that Myros has nothing more to offer?’ There was an undercurrent of mockery in his tone.

‘I’m paying to stay at the Hellenic Imperial,’ she reminded him tautly.

‘Ah, money,’ he said. ‘That concerns you deeply?’

‘I like to get my money’s worth. But I’m sure you’re far above such considerations.’

He lifted a negligent shoulder. ‘It’s easier not to think about it, I promise you.’

Cressy bit her lip, aware that she’d been ungracious about his undoubted poverty.

She said, ‘You must let me pay you for the trip.’

He sent her a quizzical look. ‘Did Yannis and Maria ask you to pay for the meal last night—or your room?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘They didn’t. But…’

‘And I am no different. There is no charge.’ And there was a note in his voice which told her not to argue.

She sat tensely in the bow as the caique pushed its way through the sparkling sunlit water. The faint early haze was clearing and it was going to be another scorching day, she thought, lifting her hair away from the nape of her neck.

Draco said from the tiller, ‘You are too warm? There is an awning…’

‘No, I’m fine,’ she assured him quickly. ‘It’s just so—beautiful.’

‘I think you are falling in love, agapi mou, with my country. You will never want to go home.’

She stared at the horizon. ‘I think my boss would have something to say about that.’

‘You are indispensable?’

‘Hardly. I don’t think anyone really is. We just fool ourselves, then we go, and our space is filled, and no one even remembers we were once there.’

‘That is a sad thought for such a lovely day,’ Draco said after a pause. ‘But you will be remembered always.’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Ah, but you will,’ he said. ‘By your lover, for one—and your father, for another. And I—I will remember too.’

‘You will?’ She sent him a look of disbelief. ‘That’s nonsense.’

‘Of course I’ll remember. It is not every day I meet a girl with hair like the sun, and moonlight in her eyes, who is called Sid.’

Her heart twisted slowly and painfully. To cover the sudden emotion, she pulled a face. ‘I knew I’d regret mentioning that.’

‘There is nothing to regret. It is good that your father had this special name for you.’ He smiled at her. ‘Sometimes when I look at you I can see the little girl you were.’

Cressy turned away and stared at the sea. She said flatly, ‘She’s been gone a long time.’

‘You will find her again when you hold your own daughter in your arms.’

How simple he made it sound, Cressy thought, her throat aching. And how unlikely it really was.

She straightened her shoulders. ‘Alakos doesn’t seem to be coming any closer.’

He said, ‘I thought you would wish to pay a last visit to our beach.’

‘And I thought I’d made it clear I wanted to go straight back.’ There was sudden ice in her voice as she turned on him, but Draco did not appear chilled.

His eyes met hers steadily. ‘You offered to pay for your trip. This is the price—that you swim with me just once.’

She said acidly, ‘Dancing last night. Swimming today. Do you set up a full fitness programme for all your women?’

He spoke very quietly. ‘That is a suggestion that de-means us both. But if it is really what you think, then there is no more to be said.’

She watched him move the tiller, heading the caique out into the open sea.

Then she looked back at the horizon and found it suddenly blurred with unshed tears.

It was a miserably silent journey. To Cressy’s surprise, Draco avoided the main harbour and sailed round to the hotel’s private bay, bringing his craft skilfully alongside the small jetty.

In a subdued voice, she said, ‘I don’t think you’re meant to be here.’

He shrugged. ‘Does it matter? I shall soon be gone.’

His touch completely impersonal, he helped her ashore, and put her bag on the planking beside her.

She said in a sudden rush, ‘Draco—I’m sorry—I didn’t mean what I said. I—I don’t want us to part bad friends, but I’m just so confused. I can’t seem to get my head together…’

He nodded, but the bronze face showed no sign of softening.

‘Then start listening to your heart instead, Cressida. And when you do, you know where to find me.’ He pointed towards Myros. ‘I shall be there—waiting for you.’

She stood on the jetty and watched until the boat was a mere speck, but he never looked back.

Cressy jumped as the door to the visitors’ room opened and the consultant came in.

‘Miss Fielding.’ His handshake was limp for such an eminent man. ‘You’ll be pleased to hear that your father is making good progress. If it continues, we should be able to send him home next week.’

‘Oh.’ Cressy sat down on one of the uncomfortable chairs. ‘Oh, that’s such a relief. And the operation?’

‘As soon as we consider he’s fit enough.’ The consultant looked vaguely round. ‘Is your mother not here? I should speak to her about his future care.’

Cressy said evenly, ‘My stepmother is—away.’

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Building up her strength to nurse the invalid at home, no doubt. Admirable.’

Cressida bent her head. ‘Now may I go back to my father, please?

‘You’re going to be all right, Dad,’ she whispered to the still figure in the bed. ‘Isn’t that wonderful news? I just wish you’d give some sign that you can hear me. Although I do understand that you’ve got to rest.

‘And I can work for you, Daddy. I can deal with the bank, and the mortgage company, and everyone. I can’t get your money back, but maybe I can stop you losing everything else. I’ll talk to them—I’ll make them listen. Because I need to work—to stop me from thinking. Remembering…’

In spite of the heat, she shivered.

She had gone straight up to the hotel, she recalled, and lain down on the bed in her air-conditioned room and stared up at the ceiling…

There was a vast, aching emptiness inside her. A trembling, frightened nothingness.

She thought, What am I doing? What have I done?

Draco’s face seemed to float above her, and she closed her eyes to shut him out. But she couldn’t dismiss her other senses so easily. Her skin burned as she remembered the sensuous pressure of his body against hers. She seemed to breathe the scent of him. To feel the brush of his lips on her flesh.

A little moan escaped her. She was consumed by bewildered longing, her body torn apart by physical needs that she’d never known before.

She twisted restlessly on the bed, trying to find peace and calm, but failing.

She got up and went out on to the balcony, but the indigo shimmer of Myros on the horizon drove her inside again.

She stayed in her room until midday, when she made herself go down and join the queue at the lavish buffet on the hotel’s terrace.

She’d never realised before how many couples seemed to be staying at the hotel, wandering around hand in hand, or with their arms round each other.

Making her blindingly—piercingly aware of her own isolation—her own loneliness.

Making her realise that she couldn’t bear it any longer. And that she didn’t have to—that she too could choose to be happy for a little while.

A few days—even a few hours, she thought. I’d settle for that. Whatever the ultimate cost.

She could tell herself a thousand times that she was crazy even to contemplate such a thing, but it made no difference. Her will power—her control didn’t seem to matter any more. The ache of yearning was too strong, too compelling, and it was drawing her back.

When she told them at Reception that she was going back to Myros to stay for a while she half expected they would try to dissuade her, but her decision was accepted almost casually.

Down at the harbour, she didn’t wait for the ferry, but paid one of the local boatmen to take her across to the other island.

She was trembling as she walked up from the quay towards the taverna. This was madness, and she knew it, and it would serve her right if she walked in and found Draco with someone else, she thought, pain twisting inside her. But one swift glance told her that he wasn’t there.

Yannis was playing tavli, and his jaw dropped when he saw her. Then he recovered himself, and got to his feet smiling broadly.

The thespinis was welcome. It was good that she had come back. Especially as he had mended the wheel on his sister’s bicycle.

Up in her room, Cressy changed into a black bikini, topping it with a scooped neck T-shirt in the same colour and a wrapround skirt in a black and white swirling print.

All the way to the beach she was straining her ears to hear music, but there was only silence and solitude. She left the bicycle on the clifftop and scrambled down to the sand. The heat was intense, but she felt cold with disappointment.

She had been so ridiculously sure that he’d be there—waiting for her.

Was it really only twenty-four hours? she wondered, spreading her towel in the same spot. It seemed more like a year.

She slipped off her skirt and top, kicked off her sandals, and ran down to the sea, welcoming its cool caress against her overheated skin.

She needed to work off some of this emotion somehow, and a long, strenuous swim would do the trick. If only it could restore her common sense at the same time.

She drove herself on, pounding up and down as if she was covering lengths in a pool, until her arms and legs were heavy with tiredness and she knew it was time to go back.

She put a foot down, finding sand and shingle, and began to wade towards the beach, wringing the excess water out of her hair.

Out of the dazzle of the sun she saw him, standing motionless on the edge of the sea, small waves curling round his bare feet.

She began to run, cursing the pressure of the water which held her back.

He was holding her towel, she realised, and as she reached him he wrapped it round her, pulling her into his arms. She lifted her face mutely, and for the first time experienced the hungry demand of his mouth on hers.

The kiss seemed to last an eternity, as if, with that first taste, they could not get enough of each other.

He was not gentle, nor did she require him to be. His mouth clung, burned, tore at hers as if he was trying to absorb her into his being.

Her own lips parted breathlessly, welcoming the thrust of his tongue, inciting the dark, heated exploration to go deeper still. Offering herself without reserve.

Sun, sea and bleached sand were performing a crazy, spinning dance around her, and she put up her hands to grip his bare shoulders. She was trembling under this wild onslaught on her senses, her legs shaking under her.

Just as she thought she might collapse on the sand at his feet, Draco lifted her into his arms and carried her up the beach. He’d spread a rug in the shadow of some rocks and he lowered her on to it, coming down beside her, seeking her mouth again, his hand tangling in her damp blonde hair.

She surrendered her lips eagerly to the sensuous rapture of his possession. She felt as if she was drunk—or that she’d entered some other undreamed of dimension.

Her hands caressed his back, holding him to her as his mouth travelled downwards, questing the curve of her throat and the small hollows at its base.

His tongue found the cleft between her breasts and lingered, and she gasped, her body arching involuntarily, her nipples hardening in excitement under the damp fabric.

His lips brushed each soft swell of flesh above the confines of the bikini top as one hand stroked down her body to find and cup the delicate contour of her hip with total mastery. Making no secret of his intention.

He lifted his head and stared down at her, the dark eyes slumbrous, a flush of deeper colour along the high cheekbones, as if he was waiting for some sign from her.

Watching him, Cressy raised a hand and undid the halter strap of her bikini, then released the little clip, freeing the tiny garment completely.

Draco bent his head and with great precision took it from her with his teeth.

He tossed it aside and lowered his mouth fully to her bare breasts, paying them slow and languorous homage, his lips moulding their soft fullness. As she felt the provocative flicker of his tongue across the puckered rose of her nipples a little moan of surprise and longing escaped her.

His mouth enclosed each hot, excited peak in turn, pleasuring them softly and subtly. Eyes closed, Cressy gave herself up to delight, feeling her last remaining inhibitions sliding away.

At the same time his fingers were feathering across her thighs, brushing the delicate mound they guarded, and her body responded with a rush of scalding, passionate heat.

His mouth moved down her body slowly, almost druggingly, paying minute attention to each curve and hollow. He murmured softly in his own language, resting his cheek against the concavity of her stomach.

She was dimly aware that at some point he had discarded the swimming trunks that were his sole covering, but it was only when she felt the glide of his fingers against the heated, throbbing core of her womanhood that she realised that she too was now naked.

He kissed her mouth again, his tongue teasing hers as his hands continued their gentle erotic play, taking her ever closer to some brink she’d never known existed.

As her breathing quickened she felt him move slightly, his body covering hers, his hands sliding under her to lift her for his possession.

For a fleeting moment she experienced the heated pressure of him against her, seeking her. And then there was pain, and she heard her voice, muffled against his shoulder, crying out in shock and sudden panic.

He was instantly still. Then he rolled away from her almost frantically, his breath rasping in his throat.

When she dared look, he was sitting a few feet away, one leg drawn up, his forehead resting on his knee. There was a faint sheen of perspiration gleaming on his skin, and his chest heaved as he fought for control.

She whispered his name, and when there was no response reached across and put her hand lightly on his arm.

He shook her off almost violently. His voice was a snarl. ‘Do not touch me. It is not safe.’

She said in a whisper, ‘What is it? I don’t understand…’

As the silence lengthened between them she said, more urgently, her voice shaking a little, ‘Talk to me, please. Tell me what’s wrong. What I’ve done.’

Draco turned and looked at her, his dark eyes hooded, the firm mouth compressed.

He said, ‘You have done nothing wrong. The mistake, God help us both, is mine.’

He reached for his trunks and pulled them on, his face taut.

Colour stormed into her face and she grabbed clumsily for her towel, holding it in front of her defensively, just as if there was an inch of her that he’d left undiscovered.

‘You lied to me, Cressida. Why?’ His voice was harsh.

‘Lied?’ she repeated uncomprehendingly.

‘You let me think you had a lover. But it is not true. So why did you pretend.’

‘What did you expect me to do?’ Her eyes blurred with humiliated tears. ‘It was what you wanted to hear—wasn’t it? And it seemed—safer.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘It was not safe. It was a stupid lie, and a dangerous one. You thought I would not know?’

She bent her head. ‘I—I didn’t think so. I didn’t realise it would make any difference…’

She heard him whisper something sharp and violent, then he was beside her again. He drew her towards him, cupping her face gently between his hands, making her meet his searching gaze.

He said quietly, ‘It makes all the difference in the world, agapi mou. But I am also to blame. I should have realised that you were claiming a sophistication you did not possess.’

She said tautly, ‘Of course, you know so much about women.’

‘More than you know of men, certainly.’

Cressy bit her lip, unable to deny his curt response. Her voice shook slightly. ‘Draco—I’m so sorry…’

‘Sorry?’ he repeated, his voice incredulous. ‘You offer me the ultimate gift—and say you are sorry?’

She said flatly, ‘But it’s a gift you don’t seem to want.’

His mouth relaxed into the shadow of a smile. ‘You think I don’t want you, agapi mou?’ He took her hands and carried them fleetingly to his body. ‘You are wrong. But a woman’s innocence should not be thrown away to feed the hunger of the moment. You deserve better.’

His lips touched hers, swiftly and gently. ‘Now dress yourself, and we will go back to the town, where there are more people and less temptations.’

He got to his feet and walked down the beach, where he stood, his back turned, gazing at the sea, while Cressy huddled into her clothing.

When he came back to her, she said, ‘I think I’d better go back to Alakos.’

‘Why should you do that?’ His dark brows drew into a frown.

‘Because I’m very embarrassed.’ She made a business of folding her towel. ‘I’ve made a real fool of myself.’ She added carefully, ‘And I’d just be in the way if I stayed.’

‘Ah,’ Draco said softly. ‘You feel you might hinder my search for the next willing body.’ He cast a despairing look at the heavens. ‘Is that truly what you think of me?’

She said, ‘Draco—I don’t know what to think. I don’t know you.’

‘Then why did you come back?’ He spoke gently, but there was an inflexible note in his voice. ‘Just so that I could rid you of your unwanted virginity? I don’t believe that.’

She bit her lip. ‘Because I found I couldn’t stay away. And now I’ve ruined everything.’

He sighed. ‘Nothing is spoiled—unless you wish it to be.’ There was a silence, then he stroked the curve of her face with one long finger. ‘Is that what you want, pethi mou? Or shall we begin all over again? Start to learn about each other, not just with our bodies, but our minds?’

She said on a little sob, ‘Oh, Draco, please.’

‘Then so be it.’ He took her hand, held it in his, his fingers strong and warm. ‘But understand, Cressida, that this changes everything. And if you leave me now, I shall follow. However long, however far.’ He paused. ‘You accept this?’

And, from some great distance, she heard herself answer, ‘Yes.’

CHAPTER SIX

IT HAD just seemed a romantic thing to say on a beach, Cressy told herself as she drove home from the hospital. After all, they’d both known that their time together was going to be limited. That sooner or later the idyll would end, and she would fly back to real life.

What she hadn’t foreseen was that it would indeed be much sooner.

At first, as the sunlit days had passed, she’d felt she was living in a dream, or under a spell that Draco had cast around her.

Most of her waking hours had been spent in his company, and even when she’d been asleep the image of him had never been far from her mind.

The first part of the morning she’d usually spent alone. She’d assumed that Draco was out in his boat, fishing, but when she’d mentioned this to Yannis he’d shrugged and said, ‘I think he is at his house, Kyria Cressida. He is having some building done.’

Cressy understood. A lot of local houses seemed to be built in instalments, the owners occupying the ground floor until they could afford to add further storeys.

Draco had clearly made enough money to build another floor on to his, and if there was a vaguely troubling query at the back of her mind as to exactly where that money came from, she dismissed it. Nothing was allowed to impinge on her happiness.

Sometimes she wondered wistfully whether she would ever be asked to see his house, but assumed it would never happen. These close-knit village communities might not be pleased to see one of their number with an anglitha, especially if he’d been earmarked for one of their daughters, she thought with a pang.