Playing by the Greek's Rules (6 page)

‘It depends on the woman.'

‘How about that woman you were with earlier—Christina? She definitely wouldn't have eaten any of this. She had carb-phobia written all over her.'

Those powerful shoulders relaxed slightly. ‘She would have ordered green salad, grilled fish and eaten half of it.'

‘So why didn't you order green salad and grilled fish for me?'

‘Because you look like someone who enjoys food.'

Lily gave him a look. ‘I'm starting to understand why women cry around you. You basically called me fat. For your information, most women would storm out if you said that to them.'

‘So why didn't you storm out?'

‘Because eating here is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and I don't want to miss it. And I don't think you meant it that way and I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. Tell me what happens next on a date. You bring a woman to a place like this and then you take her back to your villa for sex in that massive bed?'

‘I never talk about my relationships.'

‘You don't talk about your family and you don't talk about your relationships.' Lily helped herself to rich, plump slices of tomato salad. ‘What do you want to talk about?'

‘You. Tell me about your work.'

‘I work in your company. You know more about what goes on than I do, but one thing I will say is that with all these technology skills at your disposal you need to invent an app that syncs all the details of the women who call you. You have a busy sex life and it's easy to get it mixed up, especially as they're all pretty much the same type.' She put her fork down. ‘Is that the secret to staying emotionally detached? You date women who are clones, no individual characteristics to tell them apart.'

‘I do not date clones, and I don't want to talk about my work, I want to talk about your work. Your archaeological work.' His eyes gleamed. ‘And try to include the word “Minoan” at least eight times in each sentence.'

She ignored that. ‘I'm a ceramics expert. I did a masters in archaeology and since then I've been working on an internationally funded project replicating Minoan cooking fabrics. Among other things we've been looking at the technological shift Minoan potters made when they replaced hand-building methods with the wheel. We can trace patterns of production, but also the context of ceramic consumption. The word ceramic comes from the Greek,
keramikos,
but you probably already know that.'

He reached for his wine glass. ‘I can't believe you were cleaning my shower.'

‘Cleaning your shower pays well and I have college debts.'

‘If you didn't have college debts, what would you be doing?'

She hesitated, unwilling to share her dream with a stranger, especially one who couldn't possibly understand having to make choices driven by debt. ‘I have no idea. I can't afford to think like that. I have to be practical.'

‘Why Crete?'

‘Crete had all the resources necessary to produce pottery. Clay, temper, water and fuel. Microscopic ceramic fabric analysis indicate those resources have been used for at least eight thousand years. The most practical way of understanding ancient technology is to replicate it and use it and that's what we've been doing.'

‘So you've been trying to cook like a Minoan?'

‘Yes. We're using tools and materials that would have been available during the Cretan Bronze Age.'

‘That's what you're digging for?'

‘Brittany and the team have different objectives, but while they're digging I'm able to access clay. I spend some of my time on site and some of my time at the museum with a small team, but that's all coming to an end now. Tell me what you do.'

‘You work in my company. You should know what I do.'

‘I don't know
specifically
what you do. I know you're a technology wizard. I guess that's why you have a shower that looks like something from NASA. I bet you're good with computers. Technology isn't really my thing, but you probably already know that.'

‘If technology isn't your thing, why are you working in my company?'

‘I'm not dealing with the technology side. I'm dealing with people. I did a short spell in Human Resources—you keep them busy by the way—and now I'm working with your personal assistants. I still haven't decided what I want to do with my life so I'm trying different things. It's only two days a week and I wanted to see how I enjoyed corporate life.'

‘And how are you enjoying “corporate life”?'

‘It's different.' She dodged the question and he gave her a long, speculative look.

‘Tell me why you became involved with that guy who looked old enough to be your father.'

Her stomach lurched.
Because she was an idiot.
‘I never talk about my relationships.'

‘On short acquaintance I'd say the problem is stopping you talking, not getting you talking. Tell me.' Something about that compelling dark gaze made it impossible not to confide.

‘I think I was attracted to his status and gravitas. I was flattered when he paid me attention. A psychologist would probably say it has something to do with not having a father around when I was growing up. Anyway, he pursued me pretty heavily and it got serious fast. And then I found out he was married.' She lowered her voice and pulled a face. ‘I hate myself for that, but most of all I hate him for lying to me.' Knowing his views on marriage, she wondered if he'd think she was ridiculously principled but his eyes were hard.

‘You cried over this guy?'

‘I think perhaps I was crying because history repeated itself. My relationships always follow the same pattern. I meet someone I'm attracted to, he's caring, attentive and a really good listener—I fall in love, have sex with him, start planning a future and then suddenly that's it. We break up.'

‘And this experience hasn't put you off love?'

Perhaps it should have done.

No one had ever stayed in her life.

From an early age she'd wondered what it was about her that made it so easy for people to walk away.

The dishes were cleared away and a sticky, indulgent dessert placed in the centre of the table.

She tried to pull herself together. ‘If you have one bad meal you don't stop eating, do you? And by the way this is the best meal I've ever had in my whole life.' She stuck her spoon in the pastry and honey oozed over the plate. She decided this was the perfect time to check a few facts before finally committing herself. ‘Tell me what happens in your relationships. We'll talk hypothetically as you don't like revealing specifics. Let's say you meet a woman and you find her attractive. What happens next?'

‘I take her on a date.'

‘What sort of date?' Lily licked the spoon. ‘Dinner? Theatre? Movie? Walk on the beach?'

‘Any of those.'

‘Let's say it's dinner. What would you talk about?'

‘Anything.'

‘Anything as long as it isn't to do with your family or relationships.'

He smiled. ‘Exactly.'

‘So you talk, you drink expensive wine, you admire the romantic view—then what? You take her home or you take her to bed?'

‘Yes.' He paused as their waiter delivered a bottle of clear liquid and two glasses and Lily shook her head.

‘Is that raki? Brittany loves it, but it gives me a headache.'

‘We call it
tsikoudia.
It is a grape liqueur—an important part of Cretan hospitality.'

‘I know. It's been around since Minoan times. Archaeologists have found the petrified remains of grapes and grape pips inside
pithoi
, the old clay storage jars, so it's assumed they knew plenty about distillation. Doesn't change the fact it gives me a headache.'

‘Then you didn't drink it with enough water.' He handed her a small glass. ‘The locals think it promotes a long and healthy life.'

Lily took a sip and felt her throat catch fire as she swallowed. ‘So now finish telling me about your typical date. You don't fall in love, because you don't believe in love. So when you take a woman to bed, there are no feelings involved at all?'

‘There are plenty of feelings involved.' The look he gave her made her heart pump faster.

‘I mean emotions. You have emotionless sex. You don't say
I love you
. You don't feel anything here—' Lily put her hand on her heart. ‘No feelings. So it's all about physical satisfaction. This is basically a naked workout, yes? It's like a bench press for two.'

‘Sex may not be emotional, but it's intimate,' he said softly. ‘It requires the ultimate degree of trust.'

‘You can do that and still not be emotionally involved?'

‘When I'm with a woman I care about her enjoyment, her pleasure, her happiness and her comfort. I don't love her.'

‘You don't love women?'

‘I do love women.' The corners of his mouth flickered. ‘I just don't want to love one specific woman.'

Lily stared at him in fascination.

There was no way,
no way
, she would ever fall in love with a man like Nik. She didn't even need to check her list to know he didn't tick a single one of the boxes.

He was perfect.

‘There's something I want to say to you and I hope you're not going to be shocked.' She put her glass down and took a deep breath. ‘I want to have rebound sex. No emotions involved. Sex without falling in love. Not something I've ever done before, so this is all new to me.'

He watched her from under lowered lids, his expression unreadable. There was a dangerous stillness about him. ‘And you're telling me this because—?'

‘Because you seem to be the expert.' Her heart started to pound. ‘I want you to take me to bed.'

CHAPTER FOUR

N
IK
SCANNED
HER
in silence. The irony was that his original plan had been to do exactly that. Take her to bed. She was fun, sexy and original but the longer he spent in her company the more he realised how different her life goals were from his own. By her own admittance, Lily wasn't the sort to emotionally disengage in a relationship. In the interests of self-protection, logic took precedence over his libido.

‘It's time I took you home.'

Far from squashing her, the news appeared to cheer her. ‘That's what I was hoping you'd say. I promise you won't regret it. What I lack in experience I make up for in enthusiasm.'

She was as bright as she was pretty and he knew her ‘misunderstanding' was deliberate.

‘
Theé mou
, you should
not
be saying things like that to a man. It could be taken the wrong way.'

She sliced into a tomato. ‘You're taking it the way I intended you to take it.'

Nik glanced at the bottle of champagne and tried to work out how much she'd had. ‘I'm not taking you to my home, I'm taking you to
your
home.'

‘You don't want to do that. My bed is smaller than a cat basket and you're big. I have a feeling we're going to get very hot and sweaty, and I don't have air conditioning.'

Nik's libido was fighting against the restraining bonds of logic. ‘I will give you a lift home and then I'm leaving.'

‘Leaving?' Disappointment mingled with uncertainty. ‘You don't find me attractive?'

‘You're sexy as hell,' he drawled, ‘but you're not my type.'

‘That doesn't make any sense. You don't like sexy?'

‘I like sexy. I don't like women who want to fall in love, settle down and have lots of babies.'

‘I thought we'd already established I didn't want to do any of that with you. You don't score a single point on my checklist, which is
exactly
why I want to do this. I know I'd be safe. And so would you!'

He decided he didn't even want to know about her checklist. ‘How much champagne have you had?'

‘I'm not drunk, if that's what you're suggesting. Ask me anything. Make me walk in a straight line. I'll touch my nose with my eyes closed, or I'll touch
your
nose with my eyes closed if you prefer. Or other parts of you—' She gave a wicked grin and leaned forward. ‘One night. That's all it would be. You will not regret it.'

Nik deployed the full force of his will power and kept his eyes away from the softness of her breasts. ‘You're right. I won't, because it's not going to happen.'

‘I do yoga. I'm very bendy.'

Nik gave a soft curse. ‘Stop talking.'

‘I can put my legs behind my head.'

‘
Cristo
, you should
definitely
stop talking.' His libido was urging logic to surrender.

‘What's the problem? One night of fun. Tomorrow we both go our own ways and if I see you in the office I'll pretend I don't know you. Call your lawyer. I'll sign a contract promising not to fall in love with you. A pre-non-nuptial agreement. All I want is for you to take me home, strip me naked, throw me onto that enormous bed of yours and have sex with me in every conceivable position. After that I will walk out of your door and you'll never see me again. Deal?'

He tried to respond but it seemed her confusing mix of innocence and sexuality had short-circuited his brain. ‘Lily—' he spoke through his teeth ‘—trust me, you do
not
want me to take you home, strip you naked and throw you onto my bed.'

‘Why not? It's just sex.'

‘You've spent several hours telling me you don't do “just sex”.'

‘But I'm going to this time. I want to be able to separate sex from love. The next time a man comes my way who might be the one, I won't let sex confuse things. I'll be like Kevlar. Nothing is getting through me. Nothing.'

‘You are marshmallow, not Kevlar.'

‘That was the old me. The new me is Kevlar. I don't understand why you won't do this, unless—' She studied him for a long moment and then leaned forward, a curious look in her eyes. ‘Are you
scared
?'

‘I'm sober,' he said softly, ‘and when I play, I like it to be with an opponent who is similarly matched.'

‘I'm tougher than I look.' A dimple appeared in the corner of her mouth. ‘Drink another glass of champagne and then call Vassilis.'

‘How do you know my driver's name?'

‘I listen. And he has a kind face. There really is no need to be nervous. If rumour is correct, you're a cold, emotionless vacuum and that means you're in no danger from someone like little me.'

He had a feeling ‘little me' was the most dangerous thing he'd encountered in a long while. ‘If I'm a “cold, emotionless vacuum”, why would you want to climb into my bed?'

‘Because you are
insanely
sexy and all the things that make you so wrong for me would make you perfect for rebound sex.'

He looked into those blue eyes and tried to ignore the surge of sexual hunger that had gripped him from the moment he'd laid eyes on that pale silky hair tumbling damp round her gleaming wet body.

Never before had doing the right thing felt so wrong.

Nik cursed under his breath and rose to his feet. ‘We're leaving.'

‘Good decision.' She slid her hand into his, rose on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. ‘I'll be gentle with you.'

With her wide smile and laughing eyes, it was like being on a date with a beam of sunshine. He felt heat spread through his body, his arousal so brutal he was tempted to haul her behind the nearest lockable door, rip off that dress and acquaint himself with every part of her luscious, naked body.

Vassilis was waiting outside with the car and Nik bundled her inside and sat as far from her as possible.

All his life, he'd avoided women like her. Women who believed in romance and ‘the one'. For him, the myth of love had been smashed in childhood along with Santa and the Tooth Fairy. He had no use for it in his life.

‘Where do you live?' He growled the words but she simply smiled.

‘You don't need to know, because we're going back to your place. Your bed is almost big enough to be seen from outer space.'

Nik ran his hand over his jaw. ‘Lily—'

Her phone signalled a text and she dug around in her bag. ‘I need to answer this. It will be Brittany, checking I'm all right. She and Spy are probably worried because they saw me go off with you.'

‘Maybe you should pay attention to your friends.'

‘Hold that thought—'

Having rebound sex.
She mouthed the words as she typed.
Speak to you tomorrow.

Nik was tempted to seize the phone and text her friends to come and pick her up. ‘Brittany was the girl in the blue dress?'

‘She's the female version of you, but without the money. She doesn't engage emotionally. I found out today that she was married for ten days when she was eighteen. Can you believe that? Ten days. I don't know the details, but apparently it cured her of ever wanting a repeat performance.' She pressed send and slid the phone back into her bag. ‘I grew up in foster homes so I don't have any family. I think that's probably why my friends are so important to me. I never really had a sense of belonging anywhere. That's a very lonely feeling as a child.'

He felt something stir inside him, as if she'd poked a stick into a muddy, stagnant pool that had lain dormant and undiscovered for decades. Deeply uncomfortable, he shifted in his seat. ‘Why are you telling me this?'

‘I thought as we're going to have sex, you might want to know something about me.'

‘I don't.'

‘That's not very polite.'

‘I'm not striving for “polite”. This is who I am. It's not too late for my driver to drop you home. Give him the address.'

She leaned forward and pressed the button so that the screen closed between him and the driver. ‘Sorry, Vassilis, but I don't want to corrupt you.' She slid across the seat, closed her eyes and lifted her face to his. ‘Kiss me. Whatever it is you do, do it now.'

Nik had always considered himself to be a disciplined man but he was rapidly rethinking that assessment. With her, there was no discipline. He looked down at those long, thick eyelashes and the pink curve of her mouth and tried to remember when he'd last been tempted to have sex in the back of his car.

‘No.' He managed to inject the word with forceful conviction but instead of retreating, she advanced.

‘In that case I'll kiss you. I don't mind taking the initiative.' Her slim fingers slid to the inside of his thigh. He was so aroused he couldn't even remember why he was fighting this, and instead of pushing her away he gripped her hand hard and turned his head towards her.

His gaze swept her flushed cheeks and the lush curve of her mouth. With a rough curse he lowered his head, driving her lips apart with his tongue and taking that mouth in a kiss that was as rough as it was sexually explicit. His intention was to scare her off, so there was no holding back, no diluting of his passion. He kissed her hard, expecting to feel her pull back but instead she pressed closer. She tasted of sugar and sweet temptation, her mouth soft and eager against his as she all but wriggled onto his lap.

The heavy weight of her breasts brushed against his arm and he gave a groan and slid his hand into her hair, anchoring her head for the hard demands of his kiss. She licked into his mouth, snuggling closer like a kitten, those full soft curves pressing against him. It was a kiss without boundaries, an explosion of raw desire that built until the rear of the car shimmered with stifling heat and sexual awareness.

He slid his hand under her dress, over the smooth skin of her thigh to the soft shadows between her legs. It was her thickened moan of pleasure that woke him up.

Cristo,
they were in the car, in moving traffic.

Releasing her as if she were a hot coal, he pushed her away. ‘I thought you were supposed to be smart.'

Her breathing was shallow and rapid. ‘I'm very, very smart. And you're an amazing kisser. Are you as good at everything else?'

His pulse was throbbing and he was so painfully aroused he didn't dare move. ‘If you really want to come home with me then you're not as smart as you look.'

‘What makes you think that?'

‘Because a woman like you should steer clear of men like me. I don't have a love life, I have a sex life. I'll use you. If you're in my bed it will be all about pleasure and nothing else. I don't care about your feelings. I'm not kind. I'm not gentle. I need you to know that.'

There was a long, loaded silence and then her gaze slid to his mouth. ‘Okay, I get it. No fluffy kittens in this relationship. Message received and understood. Can this car go any faster because I don't think I've ever been this turned on in my life before.'

She wasn't the only one. His self-control was stretched to breaking point. Why was he fighting it? She was an adult. She wasn't drunk and she knew what she was doing. Logic didn't just surrender to libido, it was obliterated. All the same, something made him open one more exit door. ‘Be very sure, Lily.'

‘I'm sure. I've never been so sure of anything in my life. Unless you want to be arrested for performing an indecent act in a public place you'd better tell Vassilis to break a few speed limits.'

* * *

Lily walked into the villa she'd cleaned earlier, feeling ridiculously nervous. In the romantic setting of the restaurant this had seemed like a good idea. Now she wasn't quite so sure. ‘So why did you hire a contract cleaning company?'

‘I didn't.' He threw his jacket over the back of a chair with careless disregard for its future appearance. ‘I have staff who look after this place. Presumably they arranged it. I didn't give them much notice of my return. I don't care how they do their job as long as it gets done.'

She paced across the living room and stared across the floodlit shimmer of the infinity pool. ‘It's pretty at night.' It was romantic, but she knew this had nothing to do with romance. Her other relationships had been with men she knew and cared about. This scenario was new to her. ‘Do you have something to drink?'

‘You're thirsty?'

Nervous.
‘A little.'

He gave her a long look, strolled out of the room and returned moments later carrying a glass of water.

‘I want you sober,' he said softly. ‘In fact I insist on it.'

Realising they were actually going to do this, she suddenly found she was shaking so much the water sloshed out of the glass and onto the floor. ‘Oops. I'm messing up the floor I cleaned earlier.'

He was standing close to her and her gaze drifted to the bronzed skin at the base of his throat and the blue-shadowed jaw. Everything about him was unapologetically masculine. He wasn't just dangerously attractive, he was lethal and suddenly she wondered what on earth she was doing. Maybe she should have taken up Spy's offer of rebound sex, except that Spy didn't induce one tenth of this crazy response in her. A thrilling sense of anticipation mingled with wicked excitement and she knew she'd regret it for ever if she walked away. She knew she took relationships too seriously. If she was going to try a different approach then there was surely no better man to do it with than Nik.

‘Scared?' His voice was deep, dark velvet and she gave a smile.

‘A little. But only because I don't normally do this and you're not my usual type. It's like passing your driving test and then getting behind the wheel of a Ferrari. I'm worried I'll crash you into a lamppost.' She put the glass down carefully on the glass table and ran her damp hands over her thighs. ‘Okay, let's do this. Ignore the fact I'm shaking, go right ahead and do your bad, bad thing, whatever that is.'