In the Greek's Bed. Sara Wood

back to the food on her plate; it was hard to simulate interest in the beautifully prepared meal.

      ‘He’s going to ring you…so you’ve not moved in together…’ Nikos regarded her down-bent head speculatively from over the rim of his glass.

      ‘No, we haven’t.’

      ‘Shrewd and beautiful?’ he drawled admiringly. ‘No doubt your tactics have a lot to do with a confirmed bachelor like Tom popping the question. Living together inevitably makes a man less eager to commit to marriage.’

      With unwarranted viciousness Katie speared an innocent butter-coated new potato with her fork; it made a poor substitute for what she longed to stab.

      ‘Seeing their beloved first thing in the morning rarely matches up to a man’s romantic fantasy,’ he observed in a superior, amused tone.

      ‘Like you’d know such a lot about romantic fantasy!’

      Nikos didn’t seem offended by her gibe. ‘Oh, I wasn’t referring to myself; you’re right, I’m no romantic. I don’t expect or particularly want perfection in a woman and I was seventeen the last time I put one on a pedestal. Tom on the other hand…’ His arched brows rose.

      Katie lifted her head from her prolonged contemplation of her food. ‘Tom does not put me on a pedestal!’ she retorted uneasily. ‘That’s a disgusting thing to say!’ Her nose wrinkled with distaste at the idea.

      ‘Disgusting…?’ His broad shoulders lifted. ‘An interesting choice of adjective.’ His upper lip curled in a cynical sneer. ‘I’d have thought that being worshipped was most women’s dream.’

      ‘Being loved is most women’s dream.’ Oh, God, I sound like a starry-eyed teenager… Her resolve stiffened as she stuck her chin out fully expecting his scorn—why should she be embarrassed by something that she believed? She wasn’t going to let some dyed-in-the-wool cynic make her feel self-conscious. After all, you couldn’t expect someone like Nikos Lakis to appreciate the difference between being loved for what you were and being loved for what someone wanted you to be.

      Their eyes touched; hers were defiant, his were… Katie swallowed; then again maybe Nikos understood more than she thought. Uneasily she observed the subtle shift in his expression as he registered her loaded riposte.

      Without saying anything he made her feel she’d just made some remarkably revealing comment.

      ‘Tom loves me,’ she gritted. ‘And he doesn’t care how I look in the morning. I suppose you look marvellous after a late night,’ she snarled.

      The instant the words were off her tongue Katie knew they’d been a bad idea. It was like opening the floodgates of her imagination. Unwelcome images of tousled dark hair, slumberous, sexy eyes and hard, olive-toned flesh minus any form of clothing—Nikos Lakis definitely slept naked—flashed through her undisciplined mind. She sucked in air through her flared nostrils and then exhaled hard through her parted lips.

      Thoughtfully Nikos watched the soft colour mount the smooth contours of her cheeks. ‘Actually I’ve not had any complaints as yet,’ he revealed softly.

      The colour in her cheeks deepened. ‘Amazing what some women will put up with if they think they stand the chance of snagging a rich man,’ she grunted contemptuously.

      ‘I bow to your superior experience in such matters.’

      It was the closest he’d come yet to an outright accusation of gold-digging. Katie’s fork fell from her grasp; she barely registered the noisy clatter of the metal on porcelain.

      ‘I wouldn’t kiss a man before he’s cleaned his teeth in the morning for any amount of money!’ she declared loudly enough to draw the amused attention of several diners close by who heard her forthright words.

      For the first time she had the impression her response had perplexed Nikos. His glance slid to the undulations of her heaving bosom before returning to her angry face.

      ‘If you really mean that, I think you’ve been spending your nights with the wrong sort of man.’

      Katie, her attention hopelessly held in thrall by the low, husky throb of his voice, watched as the heavy lids of his exotically slanted eyes dropped lower over his dark glittering gaze.

      Elbows planted on the table, he leaned towards her, it seemed to Katie’s feverish mind that his closeness had cut them off from the rest of the room. Her senses were teased by the elusive male fragrance he used and the even more elusive but naturally occurring faintly musky male scent rising off his warm skin.

      ‘There is a special sort of pleasure in kissing someone and tasting the scent of your body on their lips…’ With each successive syllable his voice dropped lower until it was just a husky purr. The mesmeric drawl sent tiny shivers trickling through her body. ‘The intimacy awakens memories of the pleasures of the night before,’ he rasped.

      The images that filled her brain sent a scalding hot flash of heat washing over Katie’s body, sending her core temperature off the scale. Katie tore her eyes from the dark ones of her tormentor. It would have been a lot less humiliating to pretend that it hadn’t happened…that Nikos Lakis hadn’t turned her into a mindless bundle of lustful longing with a bit of coarse sexual innuendo, but he had.

      Forewarned is forearmed, she told herself without any particular conviction—there were some things even she, the eternal optimist, found hard to put a positive slant on.

      ‘Give me fluoride any day,’ she gritted stubbornly.

      For a moment Nikos looked nonplussed by her response. Then a slow grin spread across his lean face. Katie found her eyes drawn to the brown flesh of his throat as, head back, he laughed. Presumably his skin would be that firm and golden elsewhere?

      ‘And you, Katerina…’

      ‘Me…?’ she squeaked, lifting a hand to cover the mortified colour in her cheeks. To be caught drooling was bad enough, but to be caught drooling over Nikos Lakis made her certifiably stupid!

      ‘Am I wrong to think that you feel some sympathy for these little flowers that Tom is going to cover with concrete?’ He leaned back in his seat and replaced his almost full wineglass on the table.

      She was unable to match his mental agility; the abrupt change of subject escalated Katie’s growing mental confusion.

      ‘What?’ she asked, playing for time. It was unthinkably disloyal to voice her doubts on the subject to anyone, let alone this man. ‘I’m totally behind Tom.’

      ‘Even when you think he’s wrong. How loyal.’

      ‘Tom would never do anything illegal.’

      ‘Legally, I’m sure he wouldn’t do anything wrong.’

      All thoughts of confronting Nikos and reminding him he had to honour his side of their bargain had long since vanished from her head. Katie just knew she’d explode or do something equally socially unacceptable if she spent another moment in this detestable man’s company!

      ‘How dare you? I’m not going to sit here and debate my fiancé’s morals with someone like you,’ she spat in a shaking voice as she rose to her feet. The abrupt but graceful motion sent the soft fabric of her dress hissing softly around her shapely ankles.

      ‘Not a pudding girl, then?’ The lazily mocking observation was addressed to her rigid slender back. Nikos spent the next few moments until she disappeared from view admiring the elegant line of her stiff spine and the gentle sway of her softly curved behind. The image, though quite delectable, brought a brooding frown to his face.

      It wasn’t easy when every cell in her body was agonisingly aware of him, but Katie stubbornly refused to acknowledge the tall figure at her side as she stood in the foyer—nobody else felt similarly inhibited. She had never felt so conspicuous as she did standing next to someone that everyone seemed inclined to