The Greek Tycoon's Bride - Page 32

Barbarian. And he needn’t think she was going to respond to the double meaning she knew full well he intended in that enigmatic sentence, either. ‘I’m fine,’ she said brightly. ‘Are we nearly there?’ Wherever there was.

‘Another few minutes.’

It was another ten, but then the car was nosing its way quietly through automatic gates which closed soundlessly behind them and growling gently up a slight, tree-bordered incline to come to rest in front of a long, low, sprawling villa of mellow honey-coloured stone, its red tiled roof dappled by sunlight.

‘This is your home,’ Sophy accused uncertainly. ‘Isn’t it?’

Andreas cut the engine, settling back in his seat as he draped one arm round the back of hers. ‘Do you mind?’ he drawled easily. ‘It’s been a long forty-eight hours and I need to shower and change and relax. Paul’s wife cooks better than any chef I know so you’ll have a good dinner.’

‘Paul and his wife live with you?’ It reassured her fractionally. But only fractionally. This was the wolf’s lair.

‘They have their own separate annexe at the side of the house,’ he assured her gently, having to go and spoil the moment by adding, his voice mocking, ‘so you’ll be quite safe, Cinders.’

‘I never thought otherwise.’ She glared at him, her angry irritation at his easy reading of her mind not helped by the wicked glitter in his dark eyes as he left the car.

‘Little liar.’

She ignored that, trying to scramble out of the car, only to realise she needed the assistance of the hand he’d put out to help her, his eyes moving appreciatively over the length of golden tanned skin her skirt was revealing. By the time she was standing on the pebbled drive, her cheeks were as red as the full-blown, scarlet roses draping the arched porch.

The villa was completely concealed from the road by trees, but as Sophy turned to look fully at it she caught a glimpse of vivid blue beyond, the scent of roses, grass and sea combining to make her say, her eyes wide, ‘Your house overlooks the sea?’

‘Yes. The garden runs down to the beach,’ he said lazily.

‘How wonderful.’ She had always adored the sea.

‘Come and see for yourself.’ He took her arm as the front door opened and a small, squat woman came waddling forward to meet them, the equally small figure of Paul just behind his wife, and after brief introductions Andreas led her into the house.

It was all wood floors and exquisite rugs, with an air of spaciousness and comfort that sat well with the big plump sofas and modern furnishings. There were five bedrooms complete with en-suites upstairs, Andreas informed her, and downstairs the space was divided into a large study, cloakroom, kitchen, breakfast and dining room, with a wonderful sitting room overlooking the beautiful three-tiered gardens which were enormous and, true to Andreas’s word, ran right down to a beach of white sand.

Just outside the sitting room, which had one wall of glass inset with big glass doors to take in the magnificent view, shallow stone steps led down to the first tier of the garden which was pebbled and surrounded on three sides by feathered ferns and flowered bushes in great earthenware pots, in the middle of which sat several tables and chairs and upholstered loungers. More steps led down to the next two tiers of lawns embowered with vegetation, and then there was only an endless sweep of sand and blue sea beyond.

Cypresses flanked the sides of the garden and the scent of myriad blossoms was heavy and sweet, vying with the distinctive salt of the sea. The flowers and trees and green grass, the whiteness of the sand beyond and the dazzling blue of the sea in the clear, hard light was breathtaking, the sea appearing to be a flat shimmering sheet of blue watered silk.

‘Beautiful, is it not?’ Andreas spoke softly at the side of her, his eyes on her entranced gaze.

‘Incredible,’ she agreed faintly. Paradise on earth.

‘There is only the occasional property dotted here and there along the coastline,’ Andreas said quietly, ‘and the beach is always empty. You can imagine you are the only person alive in all the world down there, and you never see another soul.’

‘Hence the skinny-dipping?’ It was out before she thought about it but she’d instantly imagined him cutting through the water.

He smiled, a slow, sexy smile. ‘Hence the skinny-dipping,’ he agreed softly. And then he bent and kissed her, a light, skimming kiss that nevertheless sent frissons of pleasure into every nerve and sinew. He smelt of the flowers and the sea and sunshine, and something else. Something very male and heady that curled her toes in her smart shoes and made her want to run her hands over his hard, broad shoulders and tangle her fingers in his hair, tugging his mouth closer and closer.

‘Come and sit down and Alethea will bring you a drink,’ Andreas said easily as he led her down the steps to a table and chairs shaded by the feathered leaves of a jacaranda. ‘As well as being my driver, Paul makes the best cocktail you will ever taste, and at this time of the evening, after the sort of day I’ve had, nothing else will do. I won’t be long.’

And so she sat in the captivating surroundings, her eyes roaming over the hypnotisingly lovely view as she soaked up the warmth and pungent, exotic perfume of the vegetation and sipped Paul’s cocktail, which was as delicious as Andreas had promised.

Andreas joined her after a few minutes, his damp hair curling slightly on to his brow. It gave the hard, handsome face a touch of boyishness that was dynamite, and it took a moment or two for Sophy to be able to say, her tone airy, ‘Enjoy your shower?’ while she pulled herself together.

‘Heaven.’ He smiled at her, his tone easy.

He’d changed into a short-sleeved charcoal shirt and black jeans after the shower and he looked devastatingly attractive. Sophy’s gaze jerked away from his to conceal the rush of sexual hunger that had taken her completely unawares, and she took a hasty sip of the cocktail, needing the Dutch courage.

Andreas stretched out long legs with a sigh of contentment, draining his glass in a couple of swallows and refilling it from the cocktail shaker he had brought out with him. After one long swallow he placed his glass on the table at the side of him and shut his eyes, his face raised to the sun. ‘I want you to let me show you a little of my country while you are here,’ he said quietly without moving. ‘Some of ancient Greece.’

She glanced at the strong lean body and chiselled face, noticing how thick his eyelashes were as they rested on the tanned skin of his face, and her voice was a little throaty as she said, ‘That’s very kind, but it’s not necessary.’

‘Don’t be so English.’ It was mild but Sophy wasn’t fooled by his relaxed manner. ‘There are some wonderful sights not too far away, and it would only mean us staying overnight once or twice in the odd place. Thessaloniki has a superb museum holding the gold of King Philip, and at Pella there is the birthplace of Alexander the Great, and the earliest mosaics in Greece. You can’t leave Greece without visiting the Acropolis and Mount Olympus, and there’s the rock formations of Meteora and much more all within driving distance.’

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