Neighbors and More (High Rise Series) (24 page)

Two hours later, the roaring of an engine interrupted the festivities.
“My friends, keep enjoying the party. My wife and I are leaving for our
honeymoon. My love, here’s our transportation,” Dante declared, pointing to the
ocean.

Alexa spun, her skirt fluttering around her legs. “Oh my
God, a
Jet Ski
?”

Dante took her hand and tugged her toward the beach. “Once,
you told me you wanted to ride a
Jet Ski
, right?”

“Right.” Her eyes shining, she laughed and threw her shoes
aside. Her hair rippled in the breeze as she ran to the shore.

A young man waited for them beside the
Jet Ski
, “It’s
ready to go, sir.”

Alexa whirled to face him. “Dante, where are we heading?”
Color suffused her face.

“Surprise.” He waggled his eyebrows, but didn’t have the
heart to keep her in suspense when she frowned. “To the small yacht I chartered
to take us on our honeymoon. It’s waiting at the marina with our luggage. I
hope you remembered to wear a bikini under your dress as I asked you?”

“I thought we were having a swim after the reception. Oh my
God, you’re amazing.” She giggled as she slipped down her straps and slid her
dress to reveal a white and silver bikini that sent an arrow of lust to his
groin and had every man around ogle her perfect figure.

The crowd cheered and clapped hands. “Happy honeymoon.”

“Tonight the yacht will anchor in a cove where we’ll spend
our wedding night, and tomorrow we’ll head to Puerto-Rico and visit a cabana
near a rainforest,” Dante added with a wink, as he yanked off his shirt,
lowered his pants, and uncovered black swim trunks.

“A rainforest?”

“Just like in your fantasy.” He winked at her, delighted by
the happiness shimmering in her beautiful green eyes. He scooped her into his
arms and settled her on the
Jet Ski
, then climbed to sit behind her. Wrapping
his arms around her, he grabbed the handles, and nuzzled her nape. “Ready to
start our married life,
amore mio
?”

As the musicians played their favorite tune, Alexa turned
her head to receive a passionate kiss before Dante revved the engine and they sped
on the calm water toward a happy life together.

The
END

I hope you enjoyed NEIGHBORS AND MORE, and will recommend it
to your friends.

A review would be greatly appreciated on the Author’s Amazon
Page. Thank you.

http://tinyurl.com/7y4waxg

 Page forward for more on Mona Risk and an excerpt from SAILING
WITH YOU, a romantic comedy set in Greece.

A word about the author
...

In a past life, Mona Risk was a chemist who mixed solutions,
dipped her gloved fingers in dirty waste samples, and ran complicated equipment
in order to declare drinking water safe for
consumption.

When her Ph.D. and work in chemistry landed her
international contracts to refurbish laboratories, she traveled to more than sixty
countries on business or vacation. To relax from her hectic schedule, she
avidly read romance novels and mentally plotted her own books.

Eventually she left a scientific career to share with her
readers the many stories brewing in her head. M. Risk likes to set her novels
in the fascinating places she visited, from exotic Belarus, and historical
France, to the beaches of Greece, the monuments of Egypt and the mysterious
Islands of Seychelles.

Her books have received: Top Picks; Outstanding Read;
Sweetheart of the Week; Best Book of the Week at various reviewers; and have
won several awards, from Best Contemporary Romance of the Year at READERS
FAVORITE, to Best Romance Novel of the Year at Preditors & Editors Readers
Poll.

Mona Risk can be found at:
www.monarisk.com

On Twitter: @MonaRiskS

Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/MonaRisk?ref=tn_tnmn

Nothing would please her more than
to hear from her readers. You can write to her at
[email protected]

Kindle Edition, Copyright
March 2012 - Mona Ris
k

SAILING WITH YOU
http://tinyurl.com/7xwp8eo

CHAPTER ONE

Revenge would taste sweet. Yet Stefano Kostapoulos sought no
revenge. A sad page of his family's history needed to be turned once and for
all.
We will forget the past
, he vowed as he scanned the one-story brick
house hunkered down on a dune facing the Aegean Sea. God, how he hated the old
villa that spoiled the beauty of Mykonos Island.

The wrought-iron gate leading to the dilapidated yard
opened. A woman came out, a beach bag in her hand, and closed the gate behind
her.

Unable to believe his eyes, Stefano slapped his open palms
on the railing at the bow of his yacht, and leaned forward. No one had stepped
into the Pink Villa since his grandmother Elena became so sick four months ago.
What was going on here?

 “I’ll...be...damned.”

She was a vision. Aphrodite in a green sarong. Her reddish
blond hair cascaded down her back in a glorious mane. Stefano extended his arm
in a wishful gesture as if to catch the curly strands flying in the gentle
breeze.

Raising his binoculars, he followed the alluring sway of her
hips as she crossed the street, ambled along the boardwalk, and stepped onto
the sand. She sauntered toward a striped umbrella and dropped her bag on a
vacant lounge chair under the shade.

Without wasting another minute, Stefano unhooked his phone
from his belt and punched in his lawyer’s number.

“
Kalimera
, Ted, good morning. I’m on the
Athena
.
I saw a woman coming out of the old house. Should we anticipate trouble?”

“I haven’t heard anything from my American counterpart.” A
shuffling noise indicated Ted was searching through his notes. After a few
seconds of silence, he cleared his throat. “This woman may be a cleaning maid.”

Stefano brought the binoculars back to his eyes for a
thorough check. Poise and natural elegance emanated from the young woman.

“Too classy, with a figure to damn a saint, and hair about
to set the beach on fire. Definitely no maid here.”

On the other end of the phone line, a burst of laughter
interrupted his enthusiastic description. “Sounds like you’re already on fire.
Take a cold drink while I make a few phone calls. I’ll get back to you.”

“See that you do. Tomorrow we have to win our case in court
and get a permit to demolish the dump. I don’t want any surprises. Call me as
soon as you have an explanation.” Breathing deeply to calm his growing
nervousness, he inhaled the salty air of the Mediterranean Sea and hooked the
cell phone to his belt.

Determined to keep a vigil on the potential threat created by
the presence of a stranger in his grandmother’s house—and what a
stranger—Stefano raised the binoculars again watching the scenario unfolding on
the shore.

The young woman untied her beach wrap and threw it on the
back of the lounge chair.

“Lovely.” The word escaped him with a groan as she revealed
perfect curves molded by the bikini like a second skin. Stefano blinked,
assessing and admiring.

Aphrodite’s hands slid behind her back and remained hidden
for a good moment. What was she up to? She turned around. This time he could
see her profile and her fingers clasped on the hook of her bikini top.

With impatient twists, he fiddled with his binoculars. Damn
it. It was already in perfect focus. Eyes narrowed, Stefano stiffened and
zeroed in his attention on the beach.

Her head swiveled right then left. Was she scanning the
stretch of sand carpeted with topless sunbathers? Guessing the woman’s
intention, he swallowed hard.

Take it off or not take it off? What a dilemma

She must be a foreigner. Probably a bashful American on her
first visit to Greece. No doubt about it. A European beauty wouldn’t have
hesitated to remove her bra on a beach where topless was the norm and full
bathing suits the exception.

His senses on alert, Stefano stilled, focusing and waiting.
Would she shy away from revealing herself or follow the locals’ example?

Her breasts swelled and rose while she seemed to struggle
with her thoughts. Her fingers clenched behind her back on the thin strip of
material. With a swift gesture, she unhooked the clasp, snatched the bikini top
off, and crumpled it in her palm.

Stefano sucked in his breath.
Simply gorgeous
. His
hands fisted, and flexed, and he almost dropped his binoculars.

As if she sensed she was being watched, the woman crossed
her arms in front of her, and plopped onto the lounge chair, hiding her
magnificent breasts from his hungry gaze.

Good Lord. What was he doing, ogling a foreigner? He raked
his hair, embarrassment dousing his excitement. Thousands of beauties lay
topless on the Greek shores. He’d never bothered to grant them more than a
passing glance. Yeah, but none had hair as fiery as this siren, a skin as white
as his favorite sweet whipped cream, and a figure to revive a dead man. His own
body quivered with life, tenting his navy blue shorts. He threw a glance over
his shoulder. Luckily, his steward was busy mopping the aft deck.

“Mikhali, let’s go closer to shore.”

Stefano didn’t waste time to weigh his decision. He wanted
to meet the beautiful redhead. Besides, he needed to discover why she was at
the Pink Villa, the old, decrepit place where his grandmother Elena had hidden
her grief and tears once a month for half a century.

Just as the yacht reached the bay where it usually anchored,
Stefano’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the number displayed. “Ted, what’s
up?”

“I called the clerk at the court. He received a fax today
saying that Mr. Zanis’ lawyer is arriving from America to contest your
application for a permit to demolish the house.”

“Damn Zanis and his lawyer. My Yaya suffered for years from
the lousy memories held in this place. Stick to the plan. No lawyer is going to
stop me, no matter what he does.”

It was too late for his Yaya now. His dear grandmother had
died five weeks ago. She hadn’t minded his suggestion to build a beautiful
resort on the lot of the old house, but she’d insisted he notify the American
co-owner, George Zanis. The snake had protested long and loud, threatened to
take all the Kostapoulos to court, and promised to send his attorney.

Next Monday, after forty days of mourning as was the Greek
custom, their family lawyer would read the will. Stefano straightened, never
doubting the outcome of the meeting and the court’s decision. Soon, the
despicable Pink Villa would be his to demolish. With the reminder of the
painful past crushed to the ground, he’d build a luxury resort on the premium
land, and replace the painful past with the laughter of joyful visitors.

The sooner, the better.

“Stefano, the lawyer is a Miss Sheppard. She’s staying at
the Poseidon Hotel and she visited the Pink Villa this morning. She will appear
in court on Monday with a local attorney to contest your petition to demolish
the villa.”

“I’ll be damned.” The image of a lovely figure with blazing
hair and gorgeous breasts popped into his mind. The opposition lawyer.
Pity
.
Tomorrow, he’d have to fight her in court, rip her apart if needed. “Ted, I
want to meet this woman. Arrange a meeting with her for later without telling
her who I am. My name is a mouthful anyway. Instead of Dimitri Stefano Alexios
Kostapoulos, use Stefano Alexios. I’ll try to prevent her from appearing in
court. We need to demolish the Pink Villa. No matter what it takes. I don’t
want my family to suffer any longer.”

Stefano pitched a savage look beyond the turquoise waves
unfurling on the golden sand of Mykonos, the island where he’d lived all his
life. With the villa gone, his parents and relatives would regain peace of mind
and stop cursing the coward George Zanis who’d dishonored and abandoned Yaya
Elena years ago.

****

Ashley Sheppard blew out a breath of exasperation. Following
the local customs hadn’t prevented her from attracting unwanted attention. What
more could she do? She had donned a skimpy bikini and taken off the darn bra to
blend with the crowd of topless sunbathers. And yet strollers stared at her as
if she wore a sign labeled, “It’s my first time here.” She couldn’t spend the
rest of the afternoon with her arms crossed over her chest.

Behind her sunglasses, she narrowed her eyes, examining the
colorful throng swarming the beach for a clue. What could be different about
her? Other women walked around or lay almost nude without eliciting any special
interest from their neighbors. Young and old, blonde-haired and brunettes,
tanned or...white. White? Could that be her problem?

With a scowl, she reached into her beach bag for a plastic
bottle and squirted out a generous portion of sunscreen to slather over her
lily-white breasts. In a sudden frenzy, she emptied the bottle all over her
body and furiously rubbed it in. Too bad the lotion couldn’t dye her skin
instantaneously. But its strong perfume overpowered the refreshing smell of the
sea and warm sand.

Keeping one arm strategically positioned to hide part of her
breasts, she smoothed her hair to tame the unruly strands flying over her face.
It suddenly occurred to her she was the only redhead around here. Easy enough
to fix. Fishing her cap from the bag, she fumbled to tuck up her hair without
uncovering her chest. Exhaling with relief, she relaxed, determined to enjoy a
quiet afternoon before starting serious work tomorrow.

“
Kyria
,
separakalo
.” Ashley raised her head
toward the young man in a waiter’s apron. “Miss, please,” he repeated in broken
English, “two gentlemen, there.” He pointed to the sidewalk café across the
street. “
They ask you, for kaffe and pastry
.” He held out a card.