Greek Mavericks: Winning The Enigmatic Greek. Tara Pammi

and even if she could she didn’t think she’d be capable of saying it with any degree of conviction. Just like she didn’t seem capable of preventing the way he was making her feel—as if her body were no longer her own. As if it was silently responding to things she’d only ever dreamed of.

      She looked up into his face to discover that his eyes had become smoky and it was as if he’d read her thoughts because suddenly he lifted his hand to frame her face with his fingers, and he smiled. It wasn’t a particularly nice smile and it didn’t even reach his eyes but the sensation of his touch sent Keeley’s already heightened senses into overdrive. His thumb stroked its way over her bottom lip so that it began to tremble uncontrollably. That was the only thing he was doing and yet it was making her want to melt. He was making her more aroused by the second and surely that must show. Her nipples had hardened into two painful little points and somewhere low in her belly she could feel a distracting and molten ache.

      Did he realise that? Was that why his hold on her changed so that instead of cupping her face with his fingers, he was pulling her towards him? Pulling her into his arms as if it were his right to do so. His eyes were blazing as they stared into hers and she could feel the softness of her body moulding perfectly into the hardness of his, as he brought his mouth down on hers.

      And Keeley shuddered because this was like no other kiss. It was like every fantasy she’d ever had—and wasn’t the truth of it that those fantasies had always involved him? He kissed her slow and then he kissed her hard. He kissed her until she was squirming, until she thought she would cry out with pleasure. She could feel the rush of heat and the clamour of frustration and all she wanted was to give into that feeling. To wrap her arms around his neck and let desire take over. Whisper in his ear to have him do whatever he wanted. What she wanted. Have him ease this terrible ache inside her as she suspected only he could.

      And then what? Let him take you to his bed even though you know how much he despises you? Even though Bailey Saunders is arriving in a couple of days? Because that was how these people operated. She’d seen for herself the world in which he lived. Easy come, easy go.

      It didn’t mean anything. She didn’t mean anything—hadn’t he already made that abundantly clear? And for someone with an already shaky sense of self-worth, such an action would be completely insane.

      ‘No!’ Keeley jerked away from him, taking a couple of steps back and trying to ignore the silent protest of her body. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, Ariston?’ she demanded. ‘Jumping on me like that!’

      His short laugh was tinged with frustration. ‘Oh, please,’ he drawled. ‘Please don’t insult my intelligence, koukla mou—or your own for that matter. You were—are—hot and horny. You wanted me to kiss you and I was more than happy to oblige.’

      ‘I did not,’ she snapped back.

      ‘Oh, Keeley—why deny the truth? Not the best start, in the circumstances—not when I consider honesty an invaluable asset for all my employees.’

      ‘And surely crossing physical boundaries with your staff is unacceptable behaviour for any employer—have you stopped to consider that?’

      ‘Maybe if you stopped looking at me with such blatant invitation,’ he said silkily, ‘then I might be able to stop responding to you as a man, rather than as a boss.’

      ‘I was not!’ she said indignantly.

      ‘Weren’t you? Ask yourself that question again, only this time don’t lie to yourself.’

      Keeley bit her lip. Had she been looking at him in invitation? Her heart pounded. Of course she had. And if she was being brutally honest, hadn’t she wanted him to kiss her since she’d seen him standing at the windows of his glass mansion, his powerful physique dominating everything around him? Maybe even before that—when he’d come striding across the London gallery towards her and Pavlos with a face like thunder and a body which was tensed and powerful. And she mustn’t let herself feel that way. She was here to earn money to help care for her stricken mother—not tangle with a self-confessed chauvinist like Ariston and get her heart broken in the process.

      Drawing in a deep breath, she willed herself to at least look as if she were in control of her own emotions. ‘I can’t deny that there’s an attraction between us,’ she said. ‘But that doesn’t mean we’re going to act on it. Not just because you’re my boss and it’s inappropriate, but because we don’t even like each other.’

      ‘What does liking have to do with it?’

      ‘Are you serious?’

      ‘Totally serious.’ He shrugged. ‘In my experience, a little hostility always adds a touch of spice. Surely your mama taught you that, Keeley?’

      The implied slur piled on yet another layer of hurt and Keeley wanted to hurl herself at him. To slam her fists angrily against that powerful chest and tell him to keep his opinions to himself because he didn’t know what he was talking about. But she didn’t trust herself to go near him because to touch him was to want him and she couldn’t afford to put herself in that position again. He had asked for honesty, hadn’t he? So why not just give it to him, even if it meant swallowing her pride in the process? Why pretend there was no elephant in the room when a whole herd of them were threatening to trample over her?

      ‘I have no intention of getting close to you, Ariston, mainly because you’re not the kind of man I like,’ she said slowly. ‘I came here to earn good money and that’s what I intend to do. Actually, it’s all I intend to do. I am going to work hard and to stay away from you as much as possible. I don’t intend putting myself in a position of vulnerability again.’ She forced a smile, injecting the requisite note of subservience into her voice, reminding herself to behave like the humble employee she was supposed to be. ‘So if you’ll excuse me—I’d better go and find out if there’s anything Demetra wants me to do in the kitchen.’

       CHAPTER FOUR

      SHE WAS DRIVING him crazy.

      Crazy.

      Sucking in a lungful of air, Ariston dived beneath the inky waters of a sea just starting to be gilded by the sun coming up over the horizon. It was early. Too early for anyone else to be around. Not even the staff were awake yet and the shutters remained tightly closed in the bedroom windows of Keeley’s cottage. And that was a pretty accurate metaphor for the current state of affairs between them, he thought grimly. For a man so utterly confident about his sexual power over women—and with good reason—things with Keeley Turner hadn’t quite gone according to plan.

      For a while he swam strongly beneath the shadowed surface of the water, trying to rid his body of some of the restless energy which had been building up inside him, but that was easier said than done. He had been sleeping badly, with images of Keeley in various imagined stages of undress haunting his erotic and frustrating dreams. Because she’d meant what she’d said, he was discovering with growing incredulity—and despite the sexual chemistry which sizzled so powerfully between them, she had stubbornly kept him at arm’s length. He’d thought at first that her behaviour had been part of some contrived act intended to keep him on his toes. But there had been no relaxing of her attitude towards him. No sudden softening which might have indicated she was weakening. All interaction between them had followed a formal yet highly unsatisfactory path.

      She politely enquired whether he would like coffee or bread, or water. She kept her eyes demurely lowered whenever their paths crossed. And no matter how many times he told her it was perfectly acceptable for her to use his Christian name in public, it fell on deaf ears. She was a conundrum, he thought. Was she really immune to the admiring glances she had attracted from his Athens-based lawyers when they had arrived on Lasia for lunch—or was she simply a very clever actress who knew the power of her own beauty? She acted as if she were made of marble, when he knew for a fact that beneath that cool and curvy exterior beat the heart of a passionate woman.

      Had he thought that she would have succumbed