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The price was the frustration of starting something he couldn’t finish, and finishing was obviously a non-starter. It would be a massive betrayal of the trust Alekis had put in him.
His expression concealed by hooded eyelids, he watched as she angrily tapped one foot clad in a spiky little ankle boot. There was an element of compulsion in the slow sweep of his eyes as they travelled up the long smooth curve of her calves covered in dark tights. Not being able to see the outline of her thighs through the kicky little woollen skirt she wore somehow made it more sexy. Imagination was a powerful aphrodisiac.
‘Plenty of problems,’ she rebutted grimly.
Zach found himself agreeing.
‘I do not appreciate being mauled by you whatever the reason.’
‘You have a novel way of showing your lack of appreciation.’ The memory of how soft and yielding she had felt, how well her curves had fitted into his angles, created a fresh crackle of heat that settled in his groin.
If she had needed a warning that he was dangerous, the slow, predatory half-smile that left his eyes cold would have provided it.
The gesture was casual, his hand did not even make contact with the skin of her cheek, but it was close enough for her to feel the warmth. She swayed away from it but, warning or not, she had no facility to prevent the image that surfaced in her head. It was a very specific image, sensory in its strength, long brown fingers moving over pale... She escaped the images in her head before she fell over, her breath leaving her parted lips in a raspy gush.
Well, that couldn’t be good, could it?
Shame rushed through her as she lifted her chin. There was no way she was going to add herself to the long list of women who had made fools of themselves over Zach Gavros. For starters, she had too much self-respect, and secondly, a much too strongly developed sense of self-preservation.
History would not be repeating itself. That was not an option, she told herself, as an image of the sad, overgrown grave flashed into her head. It was an image that represented a life wasted. She was not her mother; her hormones were not in charge. If that meant staying a tight, buttoned-up, but safe virgin, it was a price she was happy to pay.
Kat might not know a lot about heart-racing excitement, but she did know she didn’t need it and this man was the living embodiment of heart-racing.
His hand dropped; useless to deny this situation was eating into his reserves of self-control. It was going to get very tiring if he had to remind himself every five minutes that she was Alekis’s granddaughter, and as such totally off-limits—a matter not just of respect but practicality.
He needed a distraction, not to mention a release for all the sexual frustration that was clawing low and painfully in his belly, threatening the legendary cool he had long taken for granted. And he knew just the distraction. Andrea Latkis, a very talented and ambitious lawyer on Alekis’s Athens-based legal team. Not coy, she had made her desire to sleep with him clear. It was an invitation that he had always intended to accept, but they both had busy lives and their calendars had never been in sync.
It would never have occurred to Andrea to make adjustments to her calendar. He liked that about her, because neither would he, but then maybe drastic situations, or at least uncomfortable ones, required him to make some concessions.
Having come to this conclusion, he was able to experience the rush of heat he endured when Kat removed a glossy strand of hair from her plump lips with something that approached acceptance.
His problem was not Alekis’s granddaughter, it was the fact that he had not scheduled a sexual outlet into his life for too long—hence this reaction to having a beautiful woman forcibly thrown into his orbit.
He could relax, though not too much, he cautioned, remembering how he had felt as she’d smiled at the boyfriend. At least there was one interpretation of that moment he could delete—he did not do jealousy.
‘Your grandfather is looking forward to meeting you.’
Like ice cream in a heatwave, the antagonism and defiance in her face melted, leaving wide-eyed deer-in-the-headlights fear. He ignored the tightening in his chest that was perilously close to sympathy and looked around.
‘Where’s the rest of your luggage?’
‘I just brought the essentials.’
‘For an overnight trip? No matter, we can take your wardrobe in hand when we arrive, and I can arrange to have your belongings shipped over.’
She adopted a calm, no-compromise attitude as she explained, ‘No. I intend to keep my London flat on.’
‘Alekis has several properties in London. Your things can be moved into whichever you prefer.’
Clearly he had trouble recognising no compromise. ‘I prefer my own place, and what do you mean by takemy wardrobe in hand?’ She stopped. She was talking to empty space. Zach had turned and was striding off, his elegant long-legged figure drawing glances to which he seemed utterly oblivious.
She had to trot to catch up with him. ‘In hand?’ she echoed in a dangerous voice before tacking on breathlessly, ‘Will you slow down? We’re not all giraffes,’ she told him, thinking that a panther was probably a better animal kingdom analogy. His legs might be long but they were in perfect proportion to the rest of his lean, square-shouldered, narrow-hipped frame.
His mouth quirked as he angled a glance down at her lightly flushed face. ‘Sorry, I’m not used to—’
She paused as a thoughtful expression flickered across his saturnine features.
‘Used to what?’
