The Greek's Ultimate Revenge. Julia James
He knew the signs. Knew them well.
Beneath his regard Janine felt colour stealing out along her cheekbones. Heat flushing into her blood.
She could feel herself reacting to this man. She couldn’t stop herself. There was something about him that was more than his devastating looks, more than that potent aura of wealth, or even the potent frisson of the power that a man like this must surely wield in the world he moved in. There was a raw sexuality beneath that tailored suit, hidden in those veiled eyes. She felt it licking at her.
Making her want him.
The realisation shocked her.
How could she be responding so strongly to a man she’d just set eyes on—whose eyes she couldn’t even see yet? But she was, and she couldn’t stop it. She felt her breasts tighten, her pupils flare, the colour flood to her cheeks.
Nikos watched her responding to him. That was good, very good. He wanted her responsive, wanted her physically aware of him—wanted her vulnerable to him.
There would be no problem seducing her, he knew.
Women came easily to him. They always had. Despite Demetria’s bewailing, in his twenties he had indulged himself to the hilt. Now, in his thirties, he was more selective, preferring to choose women who could move in his world, who were sophisticated and discreet. Who understood what he wanted—and then moved on when he gave them the indication, as he always did.
Such women would neither know nor care that he was about to make a temporary diversion, in a call of duty, to seduce away this female who threatened his sister’s marriage, who was making a fool of a man who, up till now, he had always held in the greatest respect.
Now he let the female he was about to seduce, deliberately and calculatedly, respond to him, heighten her awareness of him, begin to make herself vulnerable to him.
He smiled.
Janine felt a kick go through her, powerful and shocking. The sculpted mouth parted, lines indenting around it, showing strong white teeth. It was an easy smile, yet it sent a frisson through her.
‘We have a mutual—acquaintance,’ he said, pausing minutely over the word. ‘Stephanos Ephandrou.’ He could see her stiffen fractionally as he dropped the name into the space between them.
‘Oh?’ responded Janine. Out of the blue he had mentioned Stephanos—what should she say? She knew Stephanos wanted her to be discreet about their relationship—yet here was a complete stranger who seemed to know there was a connection.
Her concern showed in her eyes. Nikos saw it and felt a stab of anger. Any lingering doubts he might have had that Demetria had somehow imagined her husband was having an affair vanished. The girl was carrying on with Stephanos. No doubt about it. His name had registered with her as loudly as if he’d rung a bell in her ear!
He forced his natural anger down. To display it now would ruin his strategy. Janine Fareham must have no idea of his hostility to her—indeed, she must think quite the opposite.
He bestowed another smile on her, and knew without vanity that it had distracted her attention from wondering why he seemed to know that she was connected to Stephanos Ephandrou.
He had been in two minds as to which approach to take with her. He could, indeed, have simply engineered her acquaintance and set out to seduce her as a complete stranger. That approach had its advantages—it would have been simple and straightforward. But a female who made her living from the protection of rich, besotted older men might well be worldly enough to be wary of quick seductions that would jeopardise her lucrative relationship with her current protector. Instead, Nikos planned to use his acknowledged ‘acquaintance’ with Stephanos as a lever with which to gain the girl’s confidence as swiftly as possible.
‘Perhaps you will take a coffee with me and I can explain?’ he went on, in that same smooth tone. He glanced towards the little poolside bar set back under the shade of some olive trees.
Still wary, but feeling she was being effortlessly manipulated by an expert, Janine let herself be ushered towards the seating area of the bar. It was a breath cooler under the trees, but she still felt her skin was flushed. The heat that was filling it, however, did not come from the sun.
She sat down on one of the canvas-backed chairs and the man did likewise, pausing only to beckon to the barman, who was already hurrying forward. Whatever it was that this man had, thought Janine, he had a lot of it! He wasn’t the type to get ignored by a barman—or anyone else.
And certainly not women. Janine watched as a couple of female guests with small children in tow, seated at a table further off drinking fizzy drinks, immediately turned their heads in their direction. Their eyes were not for Janine. One of them said something to the other in Greek, and they laughed before turning their attention back to their children.
Janine didn’t blame them for looking. The man sitting opposite her in his hand-tailored suit, would turn female heads wherever he went! Sexual magnetism radiated from him like a forcefield, pulling at everything in sight with a double X chromosome!
The barman was hovering, ready to take their orders.
‘A frappe, please, no sugar,’ requested Janine abstractedly. She had already discovered that iced frappes were the ideal way to take coffee in the heat of the day, and were delicious and cooling. Her companion ordered coffee—Greek, she assumed.
The barman nodded acquiescently and hurried off.
Nikos turned his attention back to the girl. She was still wary, he could see—but still radiating sexual awareness. Not that she was flaunting her reaction to him. If anything, judging by the way she was sitting—pulled back in her chair, legs slanted neatly out of the way, her hand resting on the knot of her sarong, shielding her breasts—she was trying to conceal it.
Her lack of immediate sexual forwardness—despite his blatant appreciation of her charms—confirmed that he had been right to acknowledge Stephanos’s presence in her life. The girl had landed herself a very soft number indeed—and she clearly realised it would be folly for her to risk her position as Stephanos’s mistress, with all the guaranteed cashflow that it promised, for the sake of a brief interlude with a passing stranger. However much sexual pleasure she might gain from the encounter.
Hence her wariness.
Time to dispel it.
He slid his dark glasses off and slipped them into his jacket pocket. He relaxed back in his chair.
‘Perhaps I should explain that I am here at Stephanos’s suggestion,’ he told her smilingly. ‘Stephanos is a close friend and business associate, and when he heard I was coming to Skarios he suggested I stay at his hotel and asked me to seek you out,’ he went on, the lie coming smoothly and fluently. He felt no guilt about lying to her. He only had to remember Demetria’s tears and pleadings to absolve himself of all such guilt.
Janine made no answer. She was simply staring.
She felt her stomach clench. Dark, gold-flecked eyes flickered over her, long lashes sweeping down over his cheeks. Her lips parted in a silent exhalation.
If she had thought his mouth hard to tear her gaze from, those eyes made such an act totally impossible. They were eyes she could drown in…making her feel weak…
For one long, endless moment she let herself gaze into those gold-flecked orbs, and felt her stomach churning like a cement mixer.
What was happening to her?
She’d never reacted this strongly to a man! Never! But this man—this complete stranger, whose name she didn’t even know—was making the blood race in her veins, her face flush with heat…
Just by looking at her…
Their drinks arrived and she was grateful for the distraction. As the barman walked away she resisted the temptation to go back to gazing at the man opposite her, and instead forced herself to focus on what he had just said, not what he looked like.
‘Stephanos