Playing by the Greek's Rules. Sarah Morgan
you’re hoping for a personality transplant?’
‘His name is Professor Ashurst. He has a wife,’ she muttered in an undertone. ‘Can you believe that? I actually cried over that loser. Do I have time to get my notebook out of my bag? I can’t remember what I wrote down.’
‘I’ll tell you what to say.’ He leaned closer and whispered something in her ear that made her gasp.
‘I can’t say that.’
‘No? Then how’s this for an alternative?’ Sliding his arm round her waist, he pressed his hand to the base of her spine and flattened her against him. She looked up at him, hypnotised by those spectacular dark eyes and the raw sexuality in his gaze. Before she could ask what he was doing he lowered his head and kissed her.
Pleasure screamed through her, sensation scorching her skin and stoking a pool of heat low in her belly. She’d been kissed before, but never like this. Nik used his mouth with slow, sensual expertise and she felt a rush of exquisite excitement burn through her body. Her nerve endings tingled, her tummy flipped like a gymnast in a competition, and Lily was possessed by a deep, dark craving that was entirely new to her. Oblivious to their audience, she pushed against his hard, powerful frame and felt his arms tighten around her in a gesture that was unmistakably possessive. It was a taste rather than a feast, but it left her starving for more so that when he slowly lifted his head she swayed towards him dizzily, trying to balance herself.
‘Wh-why did you do that?’
He dragged his thumb slowly across her lower lip and released her. ‘Because you didn’t know what to say and sometimes actions speak louder than words.’
‘You’re an amazing kisser.’ Lily blinked as a flashbulb went off in her face. ‘Now there’s no chance your girlfriend will believe I’m the cleaner.’
‘No chance.’ His gaze lingered on her mouth. ‘And she isn’t my girlfriend.’
Her head spun and her legs felt shaky. She was aware of the women staring at her enviously and David gaping at her, shell-shocked.
As she floated up the last few steps to the top she smiled at him, feeling strong for the first time in days. ‘Hi, Professor Ass—Ashurst.’ She told herself it was the heat that was making her dizzy and disorientated, not the kiss. ‘Have a safe flight home tomorrow. I’m sure your family has missed you.’
There was no opportunity for him to respond because the curator of the museum stepped forward to welcome them, shaking Nik’s hand and virtually prostrating himself in gratitude.
‘Mr Zervakis—your generosity—this wing is the most exciting moment of my career—’ the normally articulate man was stammering. ‘I know your schedule is demanding but we’d be honoured if you’d meet the team and then take a quick tour.’
Lily kept a discreet distance but Nik took her hand and clamped her next to his side, a gesture that earned her a quizzical look from Brittany, who was looking sleek and pretty in a short blue dress that showed off her long legs. She was standing next to Spy, whose eyes were glued to Lily’s cleavage, confirming all her worst fears about the suitability of the dress.
The whole situation felt surreal.
One moment she’d been half naked and shivering on the bathroom floor, the next she’d been whisked into an elegant bedroom by a team of four people who had proceeded to style her hair, do her make-up and generally make her fit to be seen on the arm of Nik Zervakis.
Three dresses had magically appeared and Nik had strolled into the room in mid phone call, gestured to one of them and then left without even pausing in his conversation.
It had been on the tip of Lily’s tongue to select a different dress on principle. Then she’d reasoned that not only had he provided the dress, thus allowing her to turn up at the museum opening in the first place, but that he’d picked the dress she would have chosen herself.
All the same, she felt self-conscious as her friends and colleagues working on the project at Aptera stood together while she was treated like a VIP.
As the curator led them towards the first display Lily forgot to be self-conscious and examined the pot.
‘This is early Minoan.’
Nik stared at it with a neutral expression. ‘You know that because it’s more cracked than the others?’
‘No. Because their ceramics were characterised by linear patterns. Look—’ She took his arm and drew him closer to the glass. ‘Spirals, crosses, triangles, curved lines—’ She talked to him about each one and he listened carefully before strolling further along the glass display cabinet.
‘This one has a bird.’
‘Naturalistic designs were characteristic of the Middle Minoan period. The sequencing of ceramic styles has helped archaeologists define the three phases of Minoan culture.’
He stared down in her eyes. ‘Fascinating.’
Her heart bumped hard against her chest and as the curator moved away to answer questions from the press she stepped closer to him. ‘You’re not really fascinated, are you?’
‘I am.’ His eyes dropped to her mouth with blatant interest. ‘But I think it might be because you’re the one saying it. I love the way you get excited about things that put other people to sleep, and your mouth looks cute when you say “Minoan”. It makes you pout.’
She tried not to laugh. ‘You’re impossible. To you it’s an old pot, but it can have tremendous significance. Ceramics help archaeologists establish settlement and trading patterns. We can reconstruct human activity based on the distribution of pottery. It gives us an idea of population size and social complexity. Why are you donating so much money to the museum if it isn’t an interest of yours?’
‘Because I’m interested in preserving Greek culture. I donate the money. It’s up to them to decide how to use it. I don’t micromanage and gifts don’t come with strings.’
‘Why didn’t you insist that it was called “The Zervakis Wing” or something? Most benefactors want their name in the title.’
‘It’s about preserving history, not about advertising my name.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘And ZervaCo is a modern, forward-thinking company at the cutting edge of technology development. I don’t want the name associated with a museum.’
‘You’re joking.’
‘Yes, I’m joking.’ His smile faded as Spy and Brittany joined them.
‘They’re good friends of mine,’ Lily said quickly, ‘so you can switch off the full-wattage intimidation.’
‘If you’re sure.’ He introduced himself to both of them and chatted easily with Spy while Brittany pulled Lily to one side.
‘I don’t even know where to start with my questions.’
‘Probably just as well because I wouldn’t know where to start with my answers.’
‘I’m guessing he’s the owner of Villa You-Have-to-be-Kidding-Me.’
‘He is.’
‘I’m not going to ask,’ Brittany muttered and then grinned. ‘Oh hell, yes I am. I’m asking. What happened? He found you in the cellar fighting off the ugly sisters and decided to bring you to the ball?’
‘Close. He found me on the floor of his bathroom where I’d been attacked and left for dead by his power shower. After I broke up his relationship, he needed a replacement and I was the only person around.’
Brittany started to laugh. ‘You were left for dead by his power shower?’
‘You said you wouldn’t ask.’
‘These things only ever happen to you, Lily.’
‘I am aware of that. I am really not