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She didn’t know whether to feel confused or insulted. Why was he assuming this was her fault? And Master Kyr? Who the heck was—-
Pollyanna froze.
Wasn’t the name of Teleios’ reclusive owner...Kyrillos Gazis?
“Polly? Are you there?”
Paling, she whispered through dry lips, “A-Abram, am I using Kyrillos Gazis’ phone?”
“Yes.” Abram’s tone was miserable. “What did you do, Polly?”
She was beginning to feel faint. “I think I...” She couldn’t think straight, too busy trying to recall the things she had said. Had she unintentionally insulted him in any way? What if he got back at Abram because of it? Or even Ezio and Dinah?
She suddenly remembered what she told him about Chris loaning Abram’s gear to her, and she whispered, “I think I got you into trouble.”
There was an audible gulp, but Abram answered her bravely, “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not your fault.”
“It is,” she countered guiltily. “I thought he was Chris, you see, and I told him what you told me, so now he knows, and...” She winced at the way Abram let out a girlish squeak of terror.
“The thing is, Polly, I lied, too,” Abram admitted in a low, shamed voice. “I really don’t have any gear there, but Chris is my bud, and...” His voice trailed off.
Feeling bad for Abram, Pollyanna forgot about her own worries and squared her shoulders, saying, “I’ll make things right, I promise.”
“But Polly, Master Kyrillos isn’t the type—-”
She hurriedly cut him off, saying, “I, umm, got to go. I’ll call you later, okay?” The truth was, she didn’t want to hear anything discouraging about the island’s owner. She was already nervous as it was. She didn’t need to know more terrifying things about Kyrillos Gazis.
And then she belatedly remembered the warning issued to her.
Two minutes...and she had what left?
Thirty or twenty seconds?
“You almost didn’t make it.” His tone was lazily amused, and pure wickedness gleamed in his compelling hazel eyes as he watched Pollyanna climb up into his yacht, collapse on the deck, and fight to catch her breath afterwards.
She wanted to kill him, but she was too tired to lift a muscle. Getting to his yacht in half a minute was no joke, especially when he had it moored a short distance away from the shore.
Still flat on her back on his deck, she opened her eyes and told him hopefully, “You can’t be as evil as you seem to be, right?”
Kyrillos Gazis only smiled. Bending down to take his phone from her hands, he asked with sham concern, “Has Abram allayed all your fears then?”
She made a face at him. “You. Know. He. Would.” But her retort sounded a thousand times lamer than it should have been, with the way she was still trying to catch her breath. I’m going to exercise more after this, Pollyanna vowed to herself.
With her expressive face revealing her every thought, Kyr struggled to rein in his amusement. When he was certain he could speak evenly, he said, “Follow me, please. And I’ll give you just thirty seconds to stand up this time.”
Pollyanna groaned, but knowing she was in no position to argue, she forced herself to move. “Tyrant,” she muttered under her breath.
“I heard that,” he said over his shoulder.
“You were meant to,” she retorted.
He laughed.
As Pollyanna followed behind him, she tried to rack her brains of whatever she knew about Kyrillos Gazis. A billionaire, she thought after a moment. She had definitely read somewhere that he was a billionaire. But unlike other billionaires, he was no playboy, she also recalled reading.
“Are you really not a playboy?” she blurted out loud.
Kyr almost lost his footing at the unexpected question. Halting in his tracks, he spun to face her. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry,” she said awkwardly. “I was just curious.”
He raised a brow. “Do you want me to be a playboy?”
It was her turn to be shocked. “Uh...” What kind of question was that? She couldn’t even imagine any other boy she knew who would think of asking the same thing. It was just so...
Manly.
The word came out of nowhere, but she knew, as soon as she thought it, that there was no better way to describe him.
Her gaze met the billionaire’s, and what she saw in his eyes made Pollyanna feel the strangest thing.
It started as the faintest tingle, but the electrifying sensation spread swiftly all over her body until she was almost beside herself with restlessness. She suddenly felt empty and aching and she didn’t understand why. Her breasts also felt different, like they were heavy and swollen, like they had to be...what?
A shadow fell over her, and she gasped upon finding that the billionaire was standing right in front of her, so close that she smelled the scent of his aftershave, something masculine and exotic, which was exactly what he was.
This close, she became even more aware at how extraordinarily beautiful he was, like someone who was created to prove that Greek gods did exist. Those eyes were too intensely sexy, that nose too aristocratic, and his cheekbones to die for. His jawline was strong and hard, and oh Lord, let her not get started on the perfect shape of his lips—-
