In the Greek's Bed. Sara Wood

was amused to hear him cleverly use her own format against her. Whatever else was wrong with him, the man did have a quick wit and clever tongue—far too clever, she brooded darkly. A conversation with him had more dips and bends than a roller coaster.

      ‘You doubt such a thing exists?’ she quipped.

      ‘What can I say without insulting a person’s cultural heritage?’

      Katie flushed at the subtle reprimand, then got even more worried when it occurred to her that he might have imagined there were xenophobic overtones in her earlier gibe. She frowned as she tried to recall whether what she had said could be construed that way.

      ‘Have you ever actually met any Greeks other than myself?’

      ‘Yes. As a matter of fact I’ve lived with one.’ She was pleased to see her enigmatic reply disconcert him; if she had been better acquainted with him she would have been even more surprised.

      ‘Does Tom know about this?’

      Katie gave him a sunny, composed smile. ‘Yes, he does.’

      ‘I suppose this failed relationship explains your antipathy to me.’

      ‘Did I say I had a failed relationship?’

      ‘I naturally assumed as you’re not in it any longer…’

      ‘Well, you assumed wrong,’ she replied, her eyes locked to his. She hadn’t intended to make her reply vague, but now that she thought about it having Nikos imagine she had a colourful past did not seem such a bad idea.

      ‘As a matter of fact it was a beautiful relationship.’ The taunting tone suddenly died from her voice and her eyes softened. ‘Very beautiful,’ she revealed in a tone of deep, ineffable sadness. ‘I doubt if I’ll ever have a relationship quite like it again.’ Unless she had a daughter of her own one day?

      ‘Then your antipathy to me…’

      ‘Is solely due to the fact that you’re an offensive, malicious, detestable man.’

      In the thunderous silence that followed her pronouncement Katie started to regret being so mean. I haven’t even asked if he’s all right, she thought, glancing guiltily towards the wound on his forehead. It was barely visible through the heavy swathe of hair that had fallen across his forehead.

      ‘I didn’t mean to offend you,’ she added when he didn’t respond. ‘Well, I did, but not— Oh, for heaven’s sake, don’t sulk!’ she blurted out in frustration. She waited for the inevitable ice to filter into his expression and wondered if there was a medical condition that could account for what her tongue was doing.

      ‘Relax, Katerina,’ he advised. ‘I’m not offended.’

      She gave a sigh of relief. ‘Good. What did the doctor say?’

      ‘My chest is clear.’

      Your chest is perfect, Katie thought. ‘That’s excellent,’ she said gravely.

      ‘And the X-ray of my skull was as it should be. They insisted on putting a stitch or two in my head,’ he admitted in a casual manner.

      ‘One or two?’ Katie echoed doubtfully. ‘It looks more to me…’ Without thinking, she reached out to lift the concealing hair from the wound. Before she touched him long brown fingers curled over her own. A bolt of neat electricity sizzled along her raw nerve endings.

      ‘Will you not take my word?’ He gave a humourless smile. He seemed a little tense…but then there was a lot of it about, she thought, swallowing a bubble of hysteria. ‘No, of course you won’t.’

      ‘I only wanted to see if you’re all right.’

      Nikos dismissed her concern with a terse shake of his head. ‘The amount of stitches is of no consequence.’

      He brought her hand down but didn’t release it immediately; instead he turned it over and ran his thumb across her open palm.

      ‘You have pretty hands.’ He looked as if he was almost as surprised to hear himself say this as she was.

      Katie’s eyes lingered on his long, tapering fingers. His were strong, expressive hands and her tummy fluttered again.

      ‘Thank you, so do you.’

      She sensed some of the tension slip away from him and, though his lips twitched, he didn’t respond to her comment.

      ‘You know, I think we can do a little better than that park bench.’

      Although the physical contact had disturbed her she felt a twinge of regret when he released her hand. She tried to gather her straying wits. ‘What do you mean…?’

      ‘I mean I have a suite at the Hall Hotel.’

      He would, of course—staying in anything less than a five-star hotel would obviously be beneath his dignity, and the Hall was the only five-star hotel in the area.

      ‘That’s you sorted, then.’

      Nikos gave a heavy sigh and looked impatient. ‘Theos, you are hard work,’ he observed tersely. ‘We’re both tired…’

      ‘Which is no excuse to snap.’

      A nerve in his lean cheek began to pump. ‘So kind of you to remind me of my manners.’

      ‘I get the feeling that doesn’t happen too often.’ More’s the pity, she thought, sending him a sour look.

      He signalled his disapproval of the interruption with the faintest twist of his lips. ‘I was about to say that I’m quite willing to take your extreme reluctance to accept my help as read? It will save a lot of time and frayed tempers in the long run. If anyone asks I’ll swear you fought me tooth and nail. You hate me, I’m arrogant, you’d prefer to sleep on a park bench…blah…blah…’ he drawled.

      She shot him a look of intense dislike. ‘I know this confirms my boring predictability, but I would prefer to sleep on a park bench!’ she declared.

      ‘Well done!’ he congratulated her. ‘The first step in correcting our faults is accepting you have a problem.’

      ‘Once you go away I won’t have a problem.’ If you overlook my penniless and homeless condition. Heavens, what was she going to do if he took her at her word…?

      ‘Don’t make a song and dance about this. You can’t stay here, you have no money. I, on the other hand, have—’

      ‘Too much money.’

      ‘Some people might think so,’ he conceded, ‘but actually I was thinking of a spare bed and a taxi which should arrive any moment.’

      ‘Spare bed?’

      ‘Sorry if you thought otherwise, but it has been a long day…’ he explained apologetically.

      Katie blushed fierily at the silky innuendo in his voice. She gathered the jacket and her dignity around herself as best she could.

      ‘You won’t know I’m there,’ she promised grimly.

      Nikos regarded the top of her dark head with a twisted smile. ‘That I very much doubt, agape mou,’ he drawled.

      She pretended not to hear the endearment.