She had forgotten in those moments of pure blinding pleasure what usually happened once a man got what he wanted out of a woman, once he had taken his fill and tired of his latest plaything.

On the yacht, she had realized how far out of his league she was, and how Andreas’s power and wealth would make it easy for him to pick up and discard the most beautiful women in the world if he wished. She had to put a stop to this flirtation before things got out of hand, even if it meant facing the inevitable consequences of her apparent change of heart, even if he was now going to think she was the kind of woman who enjoyed teasing men.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, and attempted to get up from the sofa. “It was wrong of me to have allowed things to get out of control—”

“You couldn’t help yourself,” he insisted smoothly, and grabbed her wrist to prevent her from getting any farther away. “And neither could I. Nature was manipulating us both, doing what she does best.”

“This has to stop now. I know I shouldn’t have led you on, led you to think that—”

“That we were going to end up in my bed?” His eyes glittered like hot, black glass. “That you were going to be making love to me all night? Crying out for me under the cover of darkness?”

“Stop saying things like that!” She wrenched her wrist away from him.

“I can’t help it, pethi mou. I’m a normal, red-blooded male and I’m still extremely aroused. I want you, Kizzy. And I know you feel the same way, so why don’t you just give in and stop wasting our time?”

“I do not feel the same way.” She was lying. “And this is all highly inappropriate—”

“In what way inappropriate?”

“You’re my boss. Sleeping with you would be against the established rules of any working relationship. It’s simply not ethical behavior.”

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“Not if you’re my mistress,” he pointed out coolly. “In fact, sleeping with me would be one of the most basic of your aims and objectives.”

“I will not be your mistress!” Kizzy snatched up her trousers and began to wrestle them back on. “The idea is preposterous.”

“I fail to see why,” Andreas threw her top to her. “We’re clearly attracted to each other and I have no doubt that your recent enthusiasm, shall we say, would be even greater in the comfort of my bed.”

“I’d be grateful if we could forget this ever happened,” she said clumsily. “I’ll be out of your house tomorrow and then—”

“But I can’t forget. And neither, I am sure, can you.” He stood over her once more and touched a fingertip to the edge of her cheekbone. “You needed that money, didn’t you?”

“I’m not a prostitute! I realize you have a low opinion of me, but I would never sell my body, however high the fee, however close to rock bottom I might be. The shame would kill me.” She brushed her tangled hair away from her face to hide the fact that she was shaking with anger. “I’ll pay back every penny I owe you, Andreas, even if it kills me. But I won’t earn it in your bed.”

Andreas emitted a hollow laugh. He looked slowly and deliberately down at his watch. “We shall see, Kizzy Dean. I don’t think you’re going to be able to hold out on me for too long, not judging by the way you went up in flames earlier. I will have you, Kizzy. I always get what I want.”

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“Nothing so crass,” he said, with a dark smile, and let his hand fall. “You will come to me eventually. I guarantee it.”

Kizzy forced her eyes open in spite of the bright light burning down on her.

“Where…?”

She shielded her eyes with her hands and tried to swallow, her throat uncomfortably dry. She forced herself to sit up, and felt a slight tenderness in her body. Then it all came flooding back. The previous evening flashed rapidly through her mind in humiliating detail.

She was in the guest bedroom that Andreas had shown her to after her embarrassing display in his arms.

He had been disarmingly polite and had acted like a perfect host as he had shown her around a suite of rooms that could have been an apartment in its own right. The pretty metal lamps that had illuminated the bedroom the night before had given way to bright shafts of early morning sunshine, filtering through cracks in the shutters and painting clean golden lines across the richly embroidered bedspread.

Pushing through the canopy of white material that hung from the white domed ceiling above her, Kizzy stepped down from the wooden platform of her bed and went to the window.

She pulled apart the heavy wooden shutters using both hands and gasped as an explosion of blue, gold, and green flooded her senses.

As the warm breeze caressed her cheeks, Kizzy felt as if she were flying. She stared out across the bay, awestruck. A heat-hazy, pale blue sky topped a ragged, golden horizon of ocher rock underlined by a slash of deepest azure sea. The wash sparkled and glinted as it eased around the bay and washed up toward a fringe of enormous fig trees, accompanied only by the rustle of a huge frangipani tree against the outside wall.

Taking a step backward into the bedroom, Kizzy noticed for the first time that there was a set of floor-to-ceiling carved wooden doors that must lead out onto the balcony.

With a rush of excitement, she grasped the heavy metal handles and tugged them open.

The generous white balcony was sheltered from the sun’s rays by a mustard-colored awning with castellated edges. Underfoot, an elaborately inlaid pebble floor tickled the soles of her feet.

At the outer edge of the balcony rose a tower that looked like an elaborate dovecote with green-shuttered windows shaped like archways. An intricate double rope pattern was carved around the edge of each one, and Kizzy guessed they must have the most amazing panoramic views of the sea when open. The balcony wall had been decorated with a row of lemons, whose skin shone seductively and begged to be touched. Kizzy lifted one to inhale its refreshing aroma.

She knelt on a low sofa covered with Moorish-looking throws and leaned her elbows on the wall to stare out across the bay.

The view was more impressive from here. She could even make out the little fishing boats that were sailing in and out. The blast of a ship’s horn broke the idyll and drew her attention toward the jetty and tavernas she had passed with Andreas the night before.

An old ferry was belching into the bay, seeming to list slightly with its burden of sightseers, and it had shimmied a little too close to the imposing bows of Elektron.




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