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The sting of pride in her words made him feel an unexpected wash of gentleness towards her. ‘Marnie,’ he said patiently. ‘It’s getting late and you’re in one of the most remote parts of the island. How are you proposing to get back on your own? It’s not like we’re in Act On. There isn’t a reliable bus service.’
‘You’ve obviously never been to Acton, or you’d know that reliable is the last word you could ever use to describe our bus service!’
He could see her struggling to do up her bikini top and instinctively reached out to help her but she batted him away. ‘I can do it myself. Though I expect you’re far more practised at it than I am!’
Half in amusement, he watched while she fumbled with the clip until her magnificent breasts were constrained once more, and then pulled on the rather ugly T-shirt dress, which successfully concealed all her curvy magnificence. Lastly, she shook her hair and ran her fingers through it, but still it looked wild and indescribably sexy as she turned to face him. She was struggling to control her rapid breathing and appeared to be choosing her words with care. ‘Look, what just happened was obviously a huge mistake.’
‘It’s done now,’ he returned, slightly irritated by the less than flattering sentiment. Was she trying to imply that she hadn’t enjoyed it? Or that she regretted it? ‘You’re sure you’re okay?’
‘Well, it doesn’t hurt, if that’s what you mean,’ she responded bluntly. ‘Or is this the moment when I’m supposed to pour on copious amounts of praise about your skill as a lover?’
Easing the zip over his hardness with difficulty, he winced. ‘That is what usually happens.’
‘Oh!’
For a moment he thought she was going to launch herself at him and start drumming her fists against his chest and wasn’t there a part of him which wanted her to do that, because the fury on her face was turning him on more than it should have done and if she attacked him then surely he would be justified in kissing her? Yet even as he rejected such a scenario as folly, Leon couldn’t shake off the sensation of being...cheated. Feeling as if she had lured him into a honey trap with the skills of an ancient siren. Lured him into something he’d been having second thoughts about and then delivered something he hadn’t been expecting.
All through dinner he had acknowledged the powerful chemistry sizzling between them, but during their walk on the beach he had forced good sense to prevail. As the soft sand had ridged between his bare toes, he had silently listed the reasons why making love to Marnie Porter was a bad idea—and there were plenty. They were strangers. They were from different worlds. It was why he hadn’t kissed her. Why he had walked chastely by her side even though he had been aching with desire and frustration, and her body language had indicated she felt the same way.
Yet as the throbbing in his groin had become unbearable, he had wondered just who he was protecting. Just because he’d never done a casual hookup before, didn’t mean it couldn’t happen. He wanted it and she wanted it. Where was the problem? They were both adults. But he’d assumed she was similarly experienced. Why wouldn’t he? He had always steered clear of virgins—and for precisely the reasons she had sarcastically joked about. Because women didn’t just give their innocence to a passing stranger, did they—not without wanting something in return? Especially when the stranger in question possessed riches beyond most people’s wildest dreams.
His mouth flattened. Maybe he was the one who was being naïve, not her. Maybe she did know his true identity and she had been saving herself for someone from whom she could reap some very attractive benefits. Someone with money. He shook his head. Wouldn’t it be almost easier if that were the case? If he were able to place her into the well-worn compartment in his life labelled gold-digger? But deep down he didn’t really believe that. There was something too proud about her to let him believe she was motivated by greed.
Yet whatever her intentions had been, it mustn’t happe
n again. Because for all her bravado, Leon had detected an unmistakable trace of tenderness when she had opened her arms to him. And because he hadn’t been expecting that either, it had thrown him. He had briefly lost himself in her softness, disorientated by a swirl of conflicting and unrecognisable emotions, which had troubled him. He was the only man she’d ever had sex with, he reminded himself, and, despite her insolence towards him afterwards, she would inevitably read too much into it. Women always did. They were experts at seeing what they wanted to see. At obscuring and manipulating the truth if it didn’t fit in with their own needs.
His jaw tightened. Hadn’t he learnt that to his own detriment—and hadn’t the fallout turned him into a man who had been accused too often of having a lump of ice for a heart? He was certainly not the kind of person this little innocent should be associating with.
So he would make her realise she would be better off without him. And the sooner she was out of his life, the sooner he would forget her.
Digging into the back pocket of his jeans for his keys, he turned to her—steeling himself against the soft quivering bow of her lips, made silver by the starlight. ‘Grab your helmet, Marnie,’ he instructed coldly. ‘I’ll take you back to the hotel.’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘MARNIE, YOU’RE GOING to have to do an emergency manicure!’
Marnie glanced up, emerging from the uncomfortable swirl of her thoughts to focus on her boss, a wiry and very dynamic Scotswoman called Jodie, who had worked on Paramenios for almost a decade. It was Jodie who’d been responsible for getting her this prestigious summer job on a Greek island and Jodie who had persuaded her salon in London to allow her to have unpaid leave for the summer so she could double or even triple her salary in this luxury resort. Thus it was important not to annoy someone who’d done her a number of favours. But, really, how on earth could a manicure ever be described as an emergency?
‘Can’t someone else do it?’ Marnie questioned. ‘I’m not feeling that great, to be honest.’
‘Yeah, I can tell. You look terrible,’ said Jodie bluntly. ‘What happened?’
Marnie bit her lip, because how could she possibly confide the reason for her washed-out appearance or inability to concentrate for most of the morning? She could just imagine Jodie’s reaction if she explained that yesterday she’d met a gorgeous stranger, had let him take her to dinner—then ended up losing her virginity to him on a beach. Or that he’d dropped her off near her staff accommodation without even a farewell kiss to remember him by. And hadn’t that bit hurt the most of all, even though she’d tried to convince herself it didn’t matter? He’d been deep inside her body in the most intimate of ways and that didn’t even warrant a goodnight kiss.
She’d spent the rest of the night tossing and turning in her narrow bed, unable to get rid of the memory of Leon as he had ridden her to fulfilment. She kept remembering the way she had cried out in rapture. She’d lain there in the claustrophobic staff accommodation, beating herself up about her behaviour—until the morning light had helped her put things in perspective.
She had been foolish and impulsive in a way which was totally out of character, that was all. She’d been living on her nerves since Pansy’s arrest and maybe it was inevitable that sooner or later something was bound to give. But she hadn’t hurt anyone—except perhaps herself—and she was going to draw a very firm line under the whole episode. The sex had been amazing—she wasn’t going to deny that—but it wasn’t going to lead anywhere. She was never going to see Leon again—he’d made it perfectly clear he didn’t want to, and she had pretended she felt the same. And even though she had just been saving face, it was probably a good thing they weren’t on schedule for a repeat performance. Because Leon Kanonidou had made her feel...vulnerable, and vulnerability had no place in her life. Didn’t she have enough on her plate, without pining after some boho biker who probably slept with a different woman every night of the week?
She could feel her cheeks growing hot as she met Jodie’s curious stare. ‘I just didn’t sleep very well last night,’ she said truthfully. ‘I think a mosquito must have got into the room because every time I closed my eyes I could hear that awful high-pitched whining sound buzzing around the room.’
Jodie shuddered. ‘Tell me about it. I hate mosquitos. Get some of the spray they sell in the hotel shop—the one with the red label. I know it’s expensive but it works wonders.’
‘I will. Though I’m not sure it’s great for the lungs. Anyway—’ Marnie forced a smile ‘—who’s this manicure for?’
Her nails glinting coral in the bright Greek sunshine, Jodie glanced down at her clipboard. ‘One of the women in that party who’ve taken over the western side of the hotel. You know—the billionaire who’s having the birthday celebrations. Her name is Ariane Paparizou and she’s requested a mini manicure. Poolside.’
‘And when does she want it?’
