Won by the Wealthy Greek. Cathy WilliamsЧитать онлайн книгу.
for her… She sighed with impatience. There were so few days left. It was nonsense to even contemplate falling in love. She hardly knew him. It was just a feeling…and feelings wore off.
But here in his own world, the sea, Iannis was even more assured, even more powerful—and it drew her to him, making her wish all sorts of things could come true. She felt his gaze on her face, felt the power emanating from him. And powerful men need a powerful foil, Charlotte reminded herself as she tilted her chin up to stare back at him.
Iannis wasn’t quite sure how he held himself in check. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to slip his arms around her waist and drag her to him. But she was too tender, too vulnerable—why did he always sense that about her? And she could save that defiant look she was giving him. He wasn’t fooled for a moment. In fact, it was all he could do to stop himself smiling. She was such a mass of contradictions—and it was obvious she had forgotten the white swimsuit was virtually transparent when it was wet. It left nothing, absolutely nothing to his imagination.
Bracing himself, Iannis gazed skywards as he waited for the tug of desire to abate. If he had been interested in Charlotte Clare before, he was doubly so now. She was blatantly aroused, even after the shock she had just sustained in the water. Her nipples were almost painfully extended, and that only accentuated the natural uplift of her breasts. She had a true hourglass figure, with not one angular surface to distract him from her curves. He wanted to grab hold of her, turn her around to admire every inch of her and rid her of the hideous white skin that supposedly passed for a swimming costume. She was more beautiful than Aphrodite, and had no need to wear a magic girdle around her waist to snare him.
But that in itself was a danger, Iannis reminded himself, putting a brake on his erotic reverie. He would have to be on his guard all the time. He would give her the physical pleasure she so obviously craved—but he must never give her his trust.
Holding back on emotion was hard for him—almost impossible for a Greek. But he must not fall under her spell, like the mythical mariners who had allowed themselves to be lured onto the rocks by the Sirens. What else were myths other than lessons in life set down in ancient times in allegorical form in order to protect future generations? Who was he to ignore them now? He had some sympathy with those sailors of old. He was finding it increasingly impossible to keep his own thoughts under control.
He viewed Charlotte lazily, as a connoisseur might view a piece of precious porcelain. The sun had warmed her skin to a shade of softest honey gold, and it was as smooth as silk, as lush as his favourite fruit, the peach. He longed to taste her, to sample her juices, to lave, nibble and kiss every inch of her delectable body. He knew she would taste every bit as sweet as she looked. He even had cause to be thankful for the vile costume. It moulded every inch of her with intimate attention to detail, forcing him to look into her eyes for the sake of his sanity.
But he would have to find out more about her. Why had she made Iskos her base? Coincidence? He thought not. What was she working on so busily at her laptop? He remembered the folded sheets, still in the back pocket of his shorts on the shore, and felt a rush of anticipation and dread. Why did she feel the need to hide her work from him if it was innocent?
Too many questions still awaiting answers. He would be mad to soften, to get to know the warm, headstrong woman beneath the incredible body. Be satisfied with the goods on display, Iannis thought cynically—and then, remembering the Sirens, he added silently to himself, And only sample those when it is safe to do so.
Charlotte felt the sexual tension ebb away without understanding what had happened. But still warmth persisted in trickling through her veins—and not just because Iannis looked so incredible, with locks of wet hair flicked around his face and his lips set in a firm line that seemed to demand she tease them apart and entice them to soften. His eyes were like black gold, with jewels of intelligence sparking at their core, and at that moment she wanted him on any terms. But what did she have to do to get the response she longed for from him?
‘I’ll take you back,’ he said.
Iannis could think of nothing but the sheets of paper in the pocket of his shorts. He could not wait to return to shore and read them. He had to know what she had written. Indicating that Charlotte should sit down, he picked up the oars before she had a chance to complain.
He didn’t speak a word to her as he pulled for shore.
It had been a good day. He had made lunch, as he’d said he would, and Charlotte should be content. But she was not content—far from it. She couldn’t even enjoy watching his muscles flex as he worked the oars, because it was clear he was intent on returning to land as fast as possible. He didn’t trouble to hide the fact that he’d had enough of her. And what had she learned for her article? Nothing. What had she learned about Iannis the man? Nothing! Apart from the fact that she liked him a lot more than was good for her.
And now he was aloof, closed off to her…after everything they had shared—she had shared, Charlotte realised, compressing her lips together in a flat, angry line. While she had been giving Iannis an insight into her formative years he had given her precisely nothing in return. He had used her—for what? His amusement? To laugh about with his friends in the taverna?
She was damned well going to find out just exactly what was going on—who he was. Did he have a wife? The thought made her feel physically sick, but more determined than ever. She had to know the truth, and the only way to do that was to follow him when they got back to shore. Even if he lived alone, a home was like a car, or clothes, his choice of friends—it would say so much about him…there would be clues. At least she would know something of him that way. And anything she saw would be meat for her article.
That was how she must regard him from now on—a subject for her article and nothing more. Two could play at the ‘give it all, then snatch it back’ emotional game, Charlotte mused tensely.
‘Thank you for taking me out on the boat,’ she said after they had disembarked, watching Iannis pull it clear of the shallows. ‘Will you be rowing home?’
‘No,’ he told her over his shoulder. ‘I’ve already arranged for someone to come and get the boat—and the barbecue,’ he added, jerking his chin towards it.
Charlotte contained her excitement as she watched Iannis settle the boat between some rocks, where even a freak tide couldn’t hope to drag it out to sea. It would make it so much easier to follow him if he was on foot.
It was a great hiding place for the boat, she realised as he straightened up. That was why she hadn’t spotted it before. What else was he hiding from her? She had to know, to save anyone else who might be involved—and save herself, Charlotte accepted grimly. Normally she wouldn’t consider sneaking about, but she wasn’t going to be a doormat either.
Charlotte concealed her impatience as she waited for Iannis to leave. ‘I’m going to sunbathe a little before I go back,’ she said, stretching her arms languidly, as if to emphasise the fact that she wasn’t going anywhere fast.
‘Well, don’t take your costume off,’ he warned in a low growl. ‘Marianna’s son will be down here soon, to collect up everything I’ve left behind.’ Slanting her a glance, he frowned. ‘Do you frequently sunbathe at dusk?’
The day was slipping away fast, and Charlotte realised she needed to come up with a reasonable explanation. ‘I have fair skin. I prefer to sunbathe when it is cooler.’
‘In that case you will have your wish,’ Iannis agreed sardonically, dipping his head towards the sun, suspended like a giant orange balloon above the horizon. ‘I will call on you before I set my bait this evening.’ By which time I will have read your notes, he thought with satisfaction, and will have judged you guilty or not guilty.
Would she make it back in time after following him home? Charlotte wondered anxiously. Iannis would move fast, and he knew the island far better than she did. He might take some shortcut…
‘Is that not convenient?’ he demanded when she remained silent.
‘When, exactly?’ Charlotte pressed