Irresistible Greeks: Passion and Promises. Maisey Yates

in all directions. She was acutely aware of Xenon at her side, his motorcycle helmet tucked beneath his arm. With his dark hair ruffled and windswept, he looked dressed-down and casual. But no matter what he wore or how he presented himself, he always drew the eye.

      She could see a couple of beautiful Swedish women turning to stare at him and she saw the expressions on their faces. And it was always like that. Women always looked at him and wanted him. Yet there was nothing to suggest that the man studying the frescoes with such rapt curiosity was a powerful billionaire with global influence. He just looked so very Greek.

      Afterwards, he drove them back to Laerma, only this time they stopped for a drink in the little village. Under the dappled shadows of the trees, they sat outside a small restaurant whose owner came out to greet Xenon, shaking his hand enthusiastically, as if he was an old friend.

      It appeared he was, because Xenon introduced him to Lexi as Petros. He served them with thick coffee, water and a plate of salty olives and went inside, only to reappear a few minutes later holding a small plastic bag, which he handed to Xenon.

      ‘Efharisto,’ said Xenon, inclining his head slightly as he glanced inside.

      ‘Parakalo.’ Petros gave him a questioning look. ‘Ine simantiko?’

      ‘Ne.’

      Lexi waited until they’d finished their drinks and were walking back towards the bike before she brought the subject up.

      ‘What was Petros saying to you?’

      ‘He was asking me whether something was important.’

      She scurried to keep up with his long stride. ‘And you said it was?’

      He smiled. ‘Very good, Lex. You now know the word for “yes”. Your Greek is improving.’

      ‘Very funny. Does it have something to do with that plastic bag?’

      ‘It does.’

      ‘What’s in it?’

      He patted the back pocket of his jeans. ‘A film.’

      ‘Is that all you’re going to tell me?’

      He flicked her a glance, tempted to remind her that she was no longer his wife and therefore she should not expect a wife’s privileges. But her silvery-green eyes looked so earnest that he found himself capitulating. ‘I’m surprised you hadn’t worked it out for yourself. Remember those photos taken of us outside the jeweller’s?’ He gave a hard smile of triumph. ‘Well, this is the rogue film.’

      Lexi blinked. ‘You mean you got it back?’

      ‘Of course. I told you that I’d sorted it. You were obviously upset at the thought of the images getting out, so I spoke to Petros and he arranged for one of his sons to...retrieve it.’

      She remembered the brief telephone conversation he’d had in the car. The sense of power which had shimmered from his dark and brooding frame as he had barked out his instructions. ‘And the photographer handed them over—just like that?’

      ‘Something like that.’ Xenon gave the ghost of a smile. ‘What is it they say? That I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.’

      Lexi’s teeth bit into her bottom lip. She tried telling herself that his behaviour was high-handed and that he was a complete control freak. Yet she couldn’t deny her gratitude to him, because those photos could have come back to haunt her. When she went back to Devon, the last thing she wanted was to have to face renewed speculation about her relationship with Xenon. And if she was being brutally honest with herself, didn’t his power and authority sometimes thrill her?

      Didn’t she sometimes fight him for the sake of fighting him? Because maybe another of her default mechanisms was that she simply wasn’t used to a man who wanted to protect her.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said carefully.

      ‘Parakalo,’ he answered with equal care, his eyes mocking her. ‘At least now you needn’t fear any new photographic evidence linking us.’

      ‘You must have read my mind!’

      ‘I must have done.’

      But Xenon recognised that the light-hearted interlude was masking a growing tension between them. He could feel his body growing uncomfortably hard the longer he was alone with her. He could feel her arms snaking around him as she climbed onto the bike. In his driving mirror he could see the flash of her bare thighs. Briefly, he closed his eyes because her breasts were pushed against him as they moved away and he thought that this was pretty close to torture.

      If it had been anyone other than Lexi, he would have stopped on the way back at one of the many secluded settings through which they passed. He would have parked the bike where it could not be seen from the road and then taken her in his arms and tumbled her down onto the ground. There would be no time to remove her dress and, besides, that pale, sensitive flesh of hers might be damaged by pine needles digging into her back. He swallowed. There would be no time for anything other than to slide her panties off and to lose himself inside her tight, liquid heat again.

      The fantasy became so intense that the bike swerved a little as he imagined that first, sweet moment of entry.

      ‘For God’s sake, Xenon!’

      The angry rush of her words in his ear brought him to his senses and he slowed right down. ‘What’s the matter?’

      ‘You’re driving like a maniac!’

      ‘I’m not used to anyone riding pillion.’

      ‘That’s no excuse. Just concentrate, will you?’

      ‘I’ll try.’ How could he concentrate when she was glued to him like that? He toyed with the idea of suggesting that she didn’t need to clamp her thighs around him quite so tightly, but realised that he was enjoying it too much to want her to stop.

      The remainder of the journey was accomplished without incident and when they returned to the house it was to see Phyllida and several other women in the gardens, weaving fairy-lights into the trees. Long tables had been erected and were being decorated with thick garlands of flowers.

      Xenon held out his hand to help Lexi off the bike. ‘My sister is taking this christening very seriously,’ he observed wryly. ‘Oh and, by the way, she’s bringing the baby over to meet you later. I should have mentioned it before.’

      Lexi froze. It was stupid. Unpredictable. She should have been expecting something like this and yet the word was like the shock of cold water colliding with warm skin. She tried to smile but maybe her attempt was unconvincing, because he caught hold of her as she turned away.

      ‘Lex? What is it?’

      ‘It doesn’t matter.’ She shook off his hand and began to walk towards their villa but she could hear his footsteps following her and she couldn’t do a damned thing to stop him. She went inside and heard the door slam shut behind him.

      ‘For God’s sake, Lex—just talk to me!’

      ‘It’s nothing.’

      ‘It’s something,’ he said fiercely. ‘How am I supposed to help when you won’t tell me what’s wrong?’

      She stared at him for a moment, gathering her breath and wishing that her heart wasn’t beating so fiercely. ‘You can’t “help” me,’ she said fiercely. ‘Nobody can.’

      ‘Is it because I mentioned the baby?’

      ‘What do you think?’ she questioned as all the feelings she’d bottled up for so long came spilling out in a dark and unstoppable tide. ‘Don’t you ever think what he might be like now? Our little boy? He’d be two years old, Xenon. Imagine that. Running around with dark hair and blue eyes just like his daddy. Stumbling over a little plastic ball in the courtyard—’

      ‘Stop it!’ he said, in a strangled kind of voice.

      ‘But