The Greek's Virgin Temptation. Susan StephensЧитать онлайн книгу.
doing now?’
Staring into her eyes, he held her just far enough away for Kimmie to imagine he was going to kiss her. She was romantic enough to believe it and that could be useful if he decided to progress this. Thinking about his uncle’s diktat that Kris should find a bride fast, it was hard not to laugh out loud. He couldn’t imagine his uncle had someone like Kimmie in mind. Bright, independent and very much with a mind of her own, he doubted she’d see much merit in marrying him.
Marrying him?
What the hell was he thinking now? He didn’t know her well enough. Yes, he could get to know her, and he had no doubt that would make his uncle happy. Succession planning, Theo Kaimos had said before Kris left Athens for Kaimos. It’s time you stopped tomcatting around and found yourself a decent woman. Kris didn’t want to disappoint the man who’d brought him up like a son, but he had pointed out that the type of woman his uncle had in mind didn’t just drop out of the sky.
Maybe they washed up on a beach?
Dismissing that thought, he turned his attention back to Kimmie.
* * *
Kris hadn’t kissed her, and now she felt such a fool because she’d been so sure he was going to. Worse, she’d been going to let him. Her emotions were all over the place. Was she destined to be a victim of circumstance forever, or would she grab hold of life again at some point and drive forward?
‘Where are you going?’ Kris asked as she stood up.
‘Back to my friends.’
‘But we haven’t started talking yet.’
‘Maybe I’ve changed my mind.’
‘And maybe you shouldn’t do that.’
He sprang up too, and his hands were gentle on her shoulders. Just for a moment she wanted to sink into that feeling. It felt so good to have someone strong who might actually listen to what she had to say, someone who might take hold of her if or when she was falling. But that was another fantasy, though this was what she’d been longing for all day, a quiet place and a chance to think things through. Getting away from people who knew her too well was actually a relief. However hard her friends tried to hide it, she knew they felt sorry for her and the last thing she needed was pity. What she needed was to work things out, get back on her feet, and get back out there fighting. Her plan to dance wildly and party like a demon until the sight of Mike and Janey going at it like rabbits had been ejected from her head was pathetic, and wouldn’t have helped. It would just have made her feel worse.
And this wasn’t a mistake? Kimmie thought as Kris’s customary rock-hard expression softened a little in a way that suggested he might kiss her when he judged the moment right. Naturally her body thought this was a great idea, and only common sense was left behind.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, seeing her frown.
There were so many answers to that question it was safer not to speak at all. When she stared into his eyes all her problems seemed to disappear. Kris was compelling in a way she’d never encountered before, which made it totally useless telling herself that, having spent all her adult life shying away from forming more intimate relationships, she was going to forget all her fears now.
‘Are you frightened of sex? Is that why your fiancé was unfaithful to you?’
‘Wow!’ She drew her head back with surprise. ‘You don’t hold back, do you?’
Kris shrugged. ‘It’s a simple question.’
‘And one you have no right to know the answer to.’
He conceded this with a dip of his head, but the steady beam of his eyes didn’t let up.
‘I think it’s probably time I went back now,’ she stated.
‘If you want, or you can tell me more. It’s entirely up to you. I’m in no hurry,’ Kris assured her.
‘What do you want to hear about?’
‘You could start with your early childhood.’
‘What are you? A shrink?’
‘No, but I know which buttons to press. So tell me or don’t. It’s up to you. Shall we sit down again?’ he suggested when she remained silently brooding.
‘Can I trust you?’ she said at last.
Kris shrugged. ‘Time will tell. Meanwhile, what do you have to lose?’
‘Not much,’ she agreed with a humourless laugh.
‘Then we’ll begin.’
‘I have a few questions for you first.’
‘Shoot.’ Leaning back on his elbows, he waited for her to begin.
‘I just want to know—are you a local fisherman perhaps working as crew when fish are scarce?’
He burst out laughing.
‘Are you or not?’ she pressed.
Kris’s eyes were still dancing with laughter. ‘I’m your sultan and you’re Scheherazade buying time for your friends, remember.’
‘Like you said, I’m bored with that story.’
‘Me too.’ Resting back, he waited.
‘I can’t be long or my friends will send out a search party,’ she warned.
‘I doubt that somehow. They know where you are and who you’re with.’ Kimmie was changing her mind about telling him anything more, he guessed, and that was a shame. She had to want to tell him and if he didn’t learn about her he couldn’t pursue the admittedly wild idea that Kimmie might prove to be the answer to his uncle’s request. ‘Do you want to spoil their fun?’
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t.’ She followed this by glancing in the direction of the music blowing on the wind in short, irregular bursts.
It must have occurred to Kimmie that she was with a man she hardly knew. It was his duty to reassure her. ‘Chapter One. Kimmie’s Life Story...’ he murmured.
‘Okay,’ she murmured back.
‘Talking things out is therapeutic,’ he reassured.
It took a while for Kimmie to get into her stride, but eventually the fact that she was opening up to a relative stranger became less important than opening up. It was like lancing a wound. Once the pus came oozing out, it started to flow faster and faster, and with each new fact the telling became easier. And it wasn’t all doom and gloom. She had lots of anecdotes about her childhood that made her laugh as she looked back.
He didn’t laugh. He remained quite still, listening intently.
‘SO YOUR FIRST memory is...?’
‘Staring at a brass poker while having my nappy changed,’ she joked, ‘but I’m not sure you want to hear that.’
He laughed. ‘Moving on. Let’s try for something else.’
‘Okay, then... I’m in a dark room, crawling on the floor...’
‘Crawling in your bedroom?’ he prompted.
‘No, I don’t think so.’ She screwed up her face as she thought back. ‘It doesn’t smell nice and there are empty bottles on the floor. It’s sticky. I remember picking up a cigarette butt, though I didn’t know what it was at the time. There was a lipstick stain on the end of it that made me think of my mother. I put it down again because it smelled nasty. And now I remember I was hungry... I wanted something to eat, and I’m cold—’
‘Okay.’