A Perfect Love: International Billionaires VI: The Greeks (14 page)

Sliding back in his chair, he sighed.

He hadn’t wanted the comatose Tamsin to return, but by the end of this last week, he was even more worried about this dynamo. She was going to wear herself out. This was clearly some kind of personal quest to make everything happen at once.

Then there was the whole issue with his laptop.

Thinking they’d only be in Sparti for a few days, she’d left her own laptop at his mother’s. When it had become clear that wasn’t his plan, she’d stated it was only fair he let her use his.
At first, he’d said no. The mistrust of any Drakos had bubbled inside. He had his work projects on the computer. His professional and private email. Still, she’d been strikingly determined.

They’d finally come to an agreement. She could use it under his supervision.

She’d been annoyed, but she’d agreed.

He’d been stunned at what she focused on when she went online. No shopping or peeking at gossip or checking her email and Facebook.

No, she’d started paging through online university classes.

“Why are you doing this?” he’d muttered. She had her brothers. She had everything she needed around here.

“It’s time I think about my future.” A frown of concentration creased her brows. “It’s time I make some plans.”

Making plans that didn’t involve him or the twins, it appeared. Somehow, this didn’t sit well. In fact, it irritated. “You’ve got the boys.”

“The boys are thirteen.” Her mouth firmed as if she were talking to herself as well as him. “They won’t be around forever.”

He’d slanted closer to stare at the course she was reviewing. “Business?”

“Yes.” She shot a glare his way. “I ran our hotel, don’t you remember?”

He slid back, hitting the soft padding of the armchair he’d pulled over when she’d plunked herself on
his
chair, behind
his
desk. “I remember.”

“Then remember it takes some business skill to make that work.” Typing impatiently on the computer keys, she pulled up another website. “I think getting a business degree would be a good idea.”

Ever since she’d emerged from her semi-coma of sleeping and taken over as much command as she could, his home had been completely different. She’d come to some kind of an accord with Aspasia because the woman now reported to Tam, instead of himself. There were no longer streaks of soap on the foyer’s tiled floor. No dishes were to be left sitting in the sink. Bedtimes for the twins were strictly enforced. Everything in his house ran like clockwork. Tamsin’s clock.

The clock ran very well.

For the first time in his memory, there were always fresh flowers in the foyer. Never before had he feasted on better, healthier food. He’d never realized the house had been cleaned haphazardly. Yet now, with renewed vigor and explicit instructions from Tam, his housekeeper had every inch of the place gleaming.

Tamsin was right. She would do well in business. She had an organizer’s mind, the ability to set clear goals for employees, and an iron will.The entire train of thought had kept him awake throughout the following night.

Titus groaned as he rolled over in his bed, his sturdy legs kicking out as if he were running after a hare.

Forcing himself, Rafe focused on his emails. He was falling behind, much to his staff’s disgust. He just couldn’t seem to gin up any enthusiasm for the work. Somewhere, he’d lost his drive and he needed to get it back.

The company needed him. His family needed the company.

There wasn’t any other choice.

For the next hour, he plowed through the remaining email and read several reports from his staff on the neuro-electronic nanodevice his team had been testing. The results were good. Really good. Obviously, the company should place a bid on the patent.

He couldn’t care less.

Rafe leaned his head against the top of the chair. Where was the excitement he used to feel when studying new medical research? When he’d first started the company, he’d dismissed his old dreams and boldly embraced his new future.

He’d built at a frantic speed.

He’d planned with ferocious intent.

He’d worked with fierce eagerness.

Now with the most amazing patent ever put in front of him, he couldn’t seem to summon an ounce of excitement. This couldn’t continue. Jerking himself straight, he focused once more on the laptop, forcing himself to do the calculations on what kind of bid they’d need to produce.

“Rafe?” Aarōn’s voice startled him into glancing at the doorway. The teenager was dressed in his pjs and for a moment, he could imagine what the kid looked like when he’d been little.

A tender smile edged his mouth. “What’s going on?”

“Um.” The boy shuffled in, one hand scratching at his arm. “We need to talk.”

Titus rolled out of his bed, plodding over to rub his big head on the boy’s leg.

“Then you better take a seat.”

There was a slight frown on Aarōn’s face as he slumped into the brown leather chair facing the desk. He absently scratched the puppy behind his ears.

“So…” Rafe waved a hand in the air after a few seconds of silence.

The boy glanced away, his brows furrowing. “It’s about Tam.”

“
Nai
?” He kept his gaze steady, yet the inner muscles of his abdomen tightened. He knew instinctively; he wasn’t going to like this conversation.

“Tamsin isn’t happy.”

The muscles along his back knotted. “She’s fine.”

“No.” The boy’s frown deepened. “I know her better than you and she’s not happy.”

“Okay. But it can’t be anything too problematic.” Shrugging in a nonchalant way, he tried to quiet the teenager’s fears and at the same time dislodge the feeling of guilt seeping inside. “And I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

“I want you to fix it.” Aarōn suddenly stared at him, his dark eyes determined. “You can fix it.”

The total trust in the statement wrapped around Rafe’s heart and squeezed. Along with the warmth, came a shot of terror. Because making Tamsin happy was an impossible task for him.

“You can, you know.” The boy nodded his head decisively.

He noticed with faint despair that sweat was rolling down his back. “Since I didn’t even know she was unhappy, I’m not sure how I can fix what’s wrong.”

“You can marry her.”

The stark statement rang in the room and the teenager flushed when Rafe gaped at him.

Still, he didn’t stop. “The idiot and I have talked it over. Many times.”

The image of the two boys huddling together plotting this impossible proposition should have made him laugh. Yet this was no laughing matter. This was absurd. “I don’t think—”

“The whole thing’s perfect.” Aarōn’s mouth firmed. “She can stay with us, you can stay with us. We’d be a family.”

“I’m not—”

“She doesn’t feel like she belongs. That’s why she’s talking about going to school and getting a job.”

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he let the boy keep going. He would have to stop eventually. Wouldn’t he?

“Isaák and I don’t want her to go to school or get a job.” Aarōn mimicked his uncle, his bony arms showing white in contrast to his dark pjs. “We want her to always be around.”

“You’re growing up.” The irony of this conversation was profound. He’d imagined saying this exact statement but with a totally different intent. Before he would have been protecting the boys’ interest. Now he was protecting Tam’s. “She has a right to have her own life.”

The teenager scowled. “She would have her own life if you married her.”

“Marrying Tamsin.” The words scratched on the scar in his heart. “Wouldn’t keep her from searching for a job or going to school.”

“You would keep her busy.”

Rafe’s fervent imagination roared to immediate life at the thought of what he could do to keep her busy. “Not enough—”

“And if she got bored.” Aarōn cocked his head. Evidently, there were more outrageous ideas floating through his mind. “She could help you with your business.”

Before any more crazy ideas were dreamt and expressed, he needed to put a stop to this once and for all. The thought of Tamsin strolling the halls of his company’s building, making him even more unfocused was insane. “I’m not marrying your sister.”

“Why not?” The boy’s face flashed with indignation. “She’s pretty—”

“That’s not the point—”

“You watch her. I know you do. You think she’s pretty, Isaák and I can tell.”

If he didn’t stop this conversation soon, he’d find himself blushing over this kid’s accusations. “Your sister is not going to be interested in marrying me. I can assure you of that fact.”

Worry crossed the boy’s face. “That’s what Isaák said when I told him about my plan.”

“You might call your brother an idiot, but he clearly isn’t.”

“It doesn’t matter, though.” Aarōn rushed into further speech. “Because I know if you put your mind to it, you can make her fall in love with you.”

“Your sister doesn’t like me.”

“She would if you would be nice to her.”

He couldn’t be nice to Tamsin Drakos. Nice inferred a level of passive liking or mild attraction. His relationship with her was never going to be anything except black and white. Black-filled hate and the white intensity of lust. He didn’t think the teenager in front of him would like any of those feelings being expressed about his sister. “This conversation is going nowhere. It’s time for you to be in bed.”

“Promise me you’ll think about it.” A mulish glare was the boy’s response.

The expression on Aarōn’s face was enough to tell him he might as well take the easy way out. Although he had no intention of following through. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good.” The boy jerked from his chair, gave Titus a pat and shuffled out of the room.

Rafe stared after him. What a bizarre conversation. He’d had no idea the boys were hatching such a crazy scheme.

Tamsin isn’t happy.

Lurching from his chair, he paced to the window. The moonlight poured over the shadows of the garden and laced the mountain top with silver. He yanked the window open fully and took in a deep breath of cool air.

A sound, a rustling sound, caught his attention. He peered into the gloom at the side of the house. After a second or so, a shadow separated itself from the others and walked into a shimmer of moonlight by the end of the pool.

A person. A woman.

Tamsin.

Had she glanced his way? Seen something of his turmoil? Yet his fears disappeared like soft swirls of air as she turned from him and started walking past the pool, through the garden and onto the path leading to the ridge of mountain behind his house.

Tamsin isn’t happy.

R
afe found
her standing on the ridge directly above the house. Moonlight silhouetted her figure against the backdrop of the dark crevasses of the mountain behind her. The small grassy patch of land where she stood lay just beyond the rough rocks and dirt of the pathway.

The place she’d chosen to stand held more than memories. This patch of land had once held his heart and his dreams.

Something alerted her although he hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken.

She turned.

He couldn’t see her eyes, yet the moonlight was strong enough to show how she tensed, the line of her shoulders tightening, the hands at her side clenching.

Rafe shifted the blanket lying on his shoulder. The rough weave of the basket rasped in his hand.

She kept staring at him, but said nothing. The light wind sifted through her long blonde hair, making it dance in a bright halo around her head. The moonlight concealed her face, only highlighting the edge of her cheekbone and the tilt of her chin.

The night surrounded them, the hush of silent thoughts mixed in with dark dreams.

He broke it. He had to. “A midnight walk?”

“Sure. Why not?” She shrugged her stiff shoulders.

“To here?”

Her hands unclasped into a jerky wave making it clear to him she’d recognized the place, the patch she stood on. “To wherever.”

An owl hooted in the distance accenting the still, silent something running between them.

Stepping off the path, he yanked the blanket off his shoulder. “I thought we could sit here and talk.”

“Here?” Her voice went wispy and she took a step back.

“Here.” He had to be firm. Had to figure out what to do. What to do to make Tamsin happy. The impulse was too strong to deny; it overwhelmed the pain of the past and the puzzle of the present.

“I don’t want to talk right now.” She took a deep breath in and as always, he noticed the lift of her breasts under the simple white T-shirt she wore. “I need to be alone.”

She turned and took a step. Away.

Another step. Away.

“Wait.” Frustration beat in his head. He needed to figure her out, make this odd relationship between them work, make everything right. The instinctive need rose inside, filling him with determination. Aarōn’s suggestion of marriage wasn’t even imaginable. Tamsin despised him and although he’d admit to softening towards her, he couldn’t trust her. Still, this didn’t mean he wanted her upset. Not anymore, not any longer.

The realization stunned him. And yet, he knew it to be true.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. The light slanted along her mouth, her lush mouth. “What?”

Another frustration beat in his blood. A lust-filled frustration he’d been denying and delaying for too long.She must have seen something in his face, something she didn’t like or want. Her lips pursed in displeasure and she took another step. Away.

He lifted the basket. “I brought food.” His voice sounded too strained and abrupt. Another layer of frustration ladled onto the others. “I noticed you didn’t eat much tonight at supper.”

“I wasn’t hungry.” She stopped walking, though, and turned back to gaze at him.

He stood on the grass.

She stood on the rocky path.

The moonlight lit full on her face now. The shadow of long lashes shielding her eyes, the stark beauty of her cheekbones, the point of her piquant chin.

For a moment, he remembered. The softness of her cheeks, still with a lingering plush of baby fat. The blaze of love in the leaf-green gaze looking at him with everything clear and true. The smile of acceptance making his young heart beat hard.

This was not that girl. This was a goddess.

Horrible beauty tempting him. Feminine power threatening his soul. Sexual secrets she would never reveal. Not unless he gave everything.

Cold sweat broke on his neck.

“What did you bring?” she said, as if questioning whether the offering was good enough.

He should be angry. He should walk away.

He should stop thinking she was powerful and he was not.

Rafe knew he wasn’t making an offering to a goddess. All he was doing was trying to get this frustrating woman figured out so he could make her happy and he could get on with his life. And yet, it felt nothing like that. Rather, it felt as if he’d stepped into another world. A world where goddesses ruled and men…offered.

“Um.” He suddenly felt foolish. “Fruit.”

Tamsin tilted her head as if sensing his weakness. A smile slid onto her lips. “Fruit?”

“You like fruit.”

The night’s silence hummed now, as if it was alive, another personality in the drama unfolding.

Drama.

He was becoming deranged.

“
Eláte
.” Dropping the basket, he shifted the blanket off his shoulder and spread it out on the patch of grass. “Sit.”

The edge of his voice took the wry smile from her face. But she didn’t turn away.

Not yet.

Rafe tried to ignore the anxiety pulsing through him. Yanking the basket cover open, he delved inside. “Grapes. Cherries.”

She didn’t move from her stance on the rocky path.

“Oranges.”

She took a step closer. She’d always liked oranges. Kneeling, he dipped his hand into the basket and produced one of his own, grown in his orchard. The one she’d predicted he’d have.

She reached out and plucked it from his fingers. Peeling the fruit open, her nostrils flared at the juicy smell and she made a sound deep in her throat.

He sat down to cover his sudden erection.

Dropping a section of orange into her mouth, she made the sound again.

Rafe tried to focus on anything else. The cool mountain air. The half-moon above. The uneven ground beneath him. Yet all he could see was Tamsin in front of him, her mouth sucking on the fruit, her eyes closed in pleasure, her skin alabaster in the moonlight.

“Why don’t you sit down.” Maybe if she were at his level, her power wouldn’t be as strong.

Her eyes opened and she swallowed the last of the orange.

“
Eláte
.”

The word wasn’t a command this time. It was his entreaty to the goddess.

He held his breath as she stepped off the path and onto the blanket. She sat down, a millimeter away from him. Her fresh scent washed over him, carried by the soft wind. With it came the inevitable memories, the dreams.

Ripping off another section, she popped it into her mouth, seeming to ignore him. The movement of her mouth, the way her lips parted then closed, the way her cheeks sucked in, then out; it tore something inside him open.

Lust poured through his veins.

Neither of them spoke as she ate the rest of the fruit and he watched. It was like being frozen in time, a time when he’d given her fruit before and watched her eat. Right here. In this place.

But then she’d been his love. Now she was his enemy.

Wasn’t she?

She glanced at him. Her hands lay quiet on her crossed legs now, the last of the orange consumed. Her eyes were dark pools of mystery. She gave nothing away. She gave him nothing to work with, go with.

“You have more?” Her lips formed into a provocative moue, driving him into desperation. “All of a sudden, I’m hungry.”

Her last words crashed through his thoughts and emotions, crushing any conscience.

Lunging at her, he grasped the back of her head and used her gasp to plunge his tongue deep inside her. The tang of orange still filled her mouth, but it didn’t obscure the essence of her.

Clean and sweet and pure.

To his utter surprise and blinding delight, she didn’t reject him. She didn’t throw down a goddess lightning bolt or curse his human need. Instead, one tender hand smoothed across his cheek and into his hair.

“Tamsin,” his whispered on her lips.

Her eyes opened, but unlike before, years ago, when her baby fat still clung and her gaze was wide with wonder, now there were only shadows. Nothing he could discern. Nothing he could figure out and fix.

So he kissed her again and again. She took him in, took his tongue deep into her throat. Took his hand on her breast. Took his body next to hers on the blanket.

He kept giving. His body and his need and his want. He was a man and didn’t know the words. Words to make this right. Words to make her happy. He knew in his heart, there was no right for them, no way to happiness.

So he kept kissing.

Until she pushed him away.

S
he was a fool
.

Tam knew it, yet she was going to do this anyway. She was going to offer her body as a gift to this man who’d hurt her over and over. Who’d never forgiven her for the damage that had been done. Who would never believe her or love her or honor her.

Still, she was going to do this anyway.

“Hey,” Rafe protested. He loomed above her, his hands splayed on the blanket near her shoulders, his arms tense and taut, keeping him from laying on top of her.

She gave him another push, her hands hard on his chest. She might be a fool, but she wanted to be strong when she did this. She wanted to be all woman. She wanted this to be everything she’d dreamed of.

His mouth tightened as he obeyed her unspoken command and rolled to the side.

She rolled with him.

His eyes widened as she spread her legs and landed on top of his outstretched body. “Tamsin?”

She answered him by leaning down, sliding her body across his until her lips met his.

This time she kissed. She took. She won.

Rafe was the only man she’d ever kissed in her entire life. This might mean she was inexperienced, but it also meant she knew exactly how this man wanted to be kissed.

He’d taught her to kiss.

So she did. Taking him by surprise helped her in the quest to lead. She lingered on his open mouth, sucking on his lower lip until he gasped. She nipped his upper and then slipped her tongue in, dancing along the ridge of his teeth, tasting the lingering bitterness of coffee, the potent salt of male underneath.

Groaning, his hands grabbed her arms and pulled her closer, tighter. The heat of his body blasted through his T-shirt, making her stomach
flip, flop, flip, flop
. She straddled him, kissed him, led him, but she knew the power of this man beneath her. Knew she rode a wild male intent on having her.

As she was intent on having him.

Long fingers slid under her shirt, pushing the cotton off her back. Tam shivered as the edge of his nails skimmed along the length of her spine.

“Take this off.” His voice was blurred with lust, sending her heart racing.

She pushed herself up to look at his face. His dark gaze met hers, a challenge in the depths.

Will you do this
?
Will you be with me
?
Will you be mine
?

She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to answer questions. She didn’t want to confront the fact she was acting the fool.

All she wanted to do was feel.

Placing her hands on his flat stomach, she rolled her hips on the hard length beneath. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, blocking out the moonlight, blocking everything except feeling.

Felt the heat and virility of the male. Her male. For now.

Strong hands grasped her, guiding her movements. She heard his breath quicken and reveled in her power.

“Take your shirt off.” He paused and she wondered if he were thinking or only feeling like her. “Please.”

She opened her eyes at the word, uttered with a husky plea. The tone shot through her like a long-lost dream. His voice had been like this before, before when they’d loved and he’d been unafraid to be vulnerable.

His face gave her nothing as she stared at him.

Yet his voice, the tone, had given her what she needed.

Grasping the edge of her T-shirt before she let doubt cloud her determination, she slipped it over her head. For a stark moment, she wished she had put on her one pretty bra instead of the old cotton one she wore.

Then, a sound came from his throat. A growl, a rough, urgent call, wiping the wish from her mind in one instant. Rafe skated his hands from her hips onto the naked skin of her waist and she was dazed with sudden heat.

Tam shivered, keeping still.

His fingers slid slowly across her stomach, brushing, drifting as if he had all the time in the world to take her.

She shivered again.

“Cold?” he murmured.

“A little.” The confession wasn’t true. She burned with need. Still, there was something deep inside that continued to quiver.

“Don’t worry,
kardiá
mou
.” The sudden flash of his smile hurt her heart. “I will keep you warm.”

Two hands slipped under her bra as the words were spoken. A hot well of heat flushed her skin and she whimpered.

“You like this.” His fingers plucked at her stiff nipples. “I like it, too.”

Before she could gather herself, her bra was off and his hands were everywhere: lifting her breasts and rolling them in his hot hands, skimming over her shoulders and down her sides, sliding the tips of his fingers into the edge of her shorts.

“I have to taste you.” His head reared up and his mouth latched onto one of her nipples, sending a shot of sparks into her bloodstream.

She’d dreamed. Many dreams. Every one of them starring this man. But she’d never dreamed of the heat and the hot and the heedless need enveloping her. She dimly noted her hands grasping his head and her body bending into his mouth. She wondered if she should do something, say something, yet nothing came into her head.

She was body. She was female.

She was his.

“
Écho̱
na káno̱
ti̱n agápi̱
se sas
,” he muttered. “
Prépei na káno̱
ti̱n agápi̱
se sas
.”

I have to make love to you. I must make love to you.

The words were tortured, like he had no control over what was happening. Just as she had none herself.

They were in this together.

“Rafe,” she breathed on the skin of his brow. A trickle of his salty sweat touched her lips. “I want you.”