A Perfect Man: International Billionaires IV: The Greeks (21 page)

“Here, here.” The elderly woman smiled as she waved her to the one lone setting lying on the big wooden table. “Lemon chicken soup will be good for lunch, hmm?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” She slumped onto the wicker-and-wood chair being held out for her and dipped her spoon into the soup.

Nella and her husband, Petros, were wonderful. Nella cooked meal after meal with a smile. Petros had given her a tour of the grounds that included a surprisingly big stable filled with extremely short horses. Both of them had endeavored to make her feel completely at home.

His home.

His hideout.

His place where he’d dumped her like a used piece of tissue and disappeared.

Her spoon clattered into the empty soup bowl.

Sophie had been patient through the first night here. She’d smiled as the older woman had fed them lamb-stuffed quince and a tasty cheese-filled pastry Alex had told her was called
masnic
. She’d figured she’d have time to pull out whatever was bothering him during the next few days. Stupidly, she’d climbed into her solitary bed that night smug in the knowledge he couldn’t avoid her forever.

Evidently, he thought he could. Because yesterday morning she’d awakened to Nella’s broad smile, a layered phyllo dough filled with cheese and egg the housekeeper called
bougatsa
, and no Alex.

The Renault still stood in the driveway.

His fancy suits hung in the bedroom all the way down the hallway from hers.

His cell and laptop sat on the oak and marbled desk in the library.

“Where is he?” she’d asked more than once.

“
Kýrios
Alex say you stay here,” Nella explained haltingly. “He be back.”

“
Kýrios
Alex needs time,” Petros had responded. “Like every man.”

That last comment had made her grind her teeth, yet no matter how nice she was, or testy she was, the answer was always the same.

She should stay put.

He’d be back whenever he decided to come back.

Yesterday, she’d tried to use her cell phone, but there was no reception. She’d also tried to find the keys to the Renault with no luck. Today, she was prepared to put on her peacoat and hike to the highway to hitch a ride.

The problem was, he might not be
here
, but he was somewhere near. He had to be.

The car.

The suits.

The cell phone and laptop.

He wouldn’t leave his stuff behind if he had taken off for good. The memory of the ugly, dull look in his eyes made her eyes ache. She needed to find him.

I need you here
.

She couldn’t leave him here all alone. Yes, Nella and Petros were wonderful people yet they didn’t know the real Alex.

Not like she knew the real Alex.

“I go now.” The older woman wrapped a bright-green scarf around her neck and beamed her usual smile. “I take Petros his lunch and…”

Her gaze narrowed as the older woman’s words stumbled to a halt.

“Petros needs his lunch.” Grabbing the pail she’d lovingly stocked as Sophie ate, a suspiciously big pail, the older woman waved her goodbyes and went through the door.

Nella and Petros lived in a small apartment off the main house, but in reality, the old man seemed to live with his horses. So she hadn’t been very surprised when his wife hiked to the stable every day with food.

Not surprised and plainly not paying enough attention.

Taking her bowl and spoon to the sink, she stared out the circular window. Nella left a string of footprints in the snow in her wake.

Footprints.

He had to be near and now that she thought about it; he had to eat. Yes, the man could cook, she’d testify to that. He still needed ingredients, though. In the mood he’d been in, she’d bet her last pastry, he wasn’t cooking.

Nella was cooking. Quite a lot.

This realization jumped on top of the others. Petros was a big man and did physical work, but his wife stuffed that pail with a huge amount of food. Far too much for just one man to consume.

Sophie plunked herself in the library, where she’d spent most of yesterday. The mahogany shelves reached to the ceiling and held every book ever written as far as she could tell. Snagging the first book she found, she waited.

She needed to play this carefully.

Within the hour, Nella returned, the clatter of the back door opening announcing her presence. She stuck her head into the library and gave her a smile. Yet now that Sophie thought about it, that smile was more of an
ah, there you are
smile than a
how are you doing
smile.

The older woman finally went into her apartment up the hall for her usual afternoon nap. The house went quiet.

Sophie placed the book down with careful precision and crept into the main hallway. Putting on her coat and borrowing a woolen hat and the pair of galoshes Nella had produced for her, she opened the front door and slipped out.

The footprints were easy to follow even though snowflakes were falling in a soft, slow drift. She followed them to the stable, but didn’t go the entire way to the closed door. No need to bother Petros while he napped. No need to alert him to her plans, either.

She found the second set of footprints coming from the other end of the stable.

They circled down, down the mountain. Sophie kept walking, determined not to chicken out. The trail eventually led straight into a clump of evergreens. And there, in the middle of the trees, stood a stone house. A hut, in all honesty.

Bingo.

“Okay, Stravoudas.” She marched to the door and pounded. “I’ve found you. Open this door.”

When she got no answer, she didn’t waste any time.

She turned the knob and pushed. No lock.

Sophie stepped into his true hideout.

The stone walls reached upward in a curve, drawing her eyes to the dark-wood loft. The edge of a bed could be seen along with a pair of discarded jeans lying on top of the spread. Familiar-looking jeans.

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “You’re here. Somewhere.”

The hut had only one main room with a simple black oak table standing by the small kitchen. A half-drunk bottle of red wine stood on the counter along with the remains of a sandwich. A sandwich she had seen Nella make not more than two hours ago.

“Ha!” She made a fist pump. “Now, where are you hiding?”

One couch, upholstered with dark-red cushions, was placed in front of the large, cold fireplace. The mantel held a scramble of things: framed photos, childhood mementos, items she couldn’t even identify.

Underneath the loft was a simple, wooden architect’s desk with lots of paper scattered across the surface.

Sophie walked to the table and picked up a sketch. The drawing was of a single home nestled into the rise of a sand dune, the glass front rolling with the landscape, making it look like it belonged right where it was.

She picked up the next one.

Another single home, this one a circular mix of glass and wood placed in the center of a forest, its back tucked into the crest of a hill.

Ruffling through the rest, she realized there were no big skyscrapers or huge shopping malls. No black erections piercing the sky or grand ornaments to wealth. All of them were simple, elegant designs for families. All of them blended into their landscapes like the hand of God had placed them there from the beginning of time.

“Alex,” she whispered. “These are beautiful.”

This. This was what this man was about. Not a race to the top, designing buildings for rich men who wanted to make a statement. No, her Alex should be designing with his heart, with his soul. Designing places filled with love.

Something clicked inside, every one of the puzzle pieces of Alex Stravoudas lining into perfect sense. She knew him now. She didn’t know if he felt the love she had for him, but she knew the inside of him, right to the core.

Turning away from his masterpieces, she fisted her hands.

She needed to find him. Right now.

Not in the hut. But somewhere near.

Where?

Marching to the door, she flung it open and stepped onto the stone front steps. That’s when she spotted the other set of footprints leading down the hill, through the evergreens.

Ah ha!

Slogging through the snow, Sophie suddenly smelled rotten eggs. She scrunched her nose in disbelief. What was that smell? Where could he possibly be? Coming to a wooden bridge, she crossed over the bubbling creek and followed the snowy footprints around an outcrop of rock.

And there he was.

Sitting in a lily-pad-filled pond. A hot spring.

Naked.

“What are you doing here?” He scowled.

“Finding you.” She glanced around. The mist surrounded her, bringing the warmth of the water into the air. The limestone outcrop circled the pond and a rivulet of water cascaded into the pool. The splash made the surface of the pool ripple, the lily-pads bobbing in the wake.

The whole picture was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Go away,” he barked.

“Are you kidding me?” She pulled off her wool hat.

His blue eyes widened.

She walked to the edge of the pool and kicked off her boots.

“Sophie,” he warned. “I want you to go back to the main house.”

“Nope.” The peacoat slapped onto a waiting rock. “Not going to happen.”

Up close, the water was hazy with steam, yet she could see the steps underneath and even the floor of the pond. “Did you design this?”

“Yes.” His voice was edged with disgruntlement. “Why does it matter?”

It mattered because she had finally understood the minefield that was Alex Stravoudas.

“I saw your sketches.” She unbuttoned the top of her shirt.

“You had no right.” Surging to his feet, displaying an impressively broad chest, he threw her a violent glare.

“When a guy leaves things out, a girl has a right to look.” She slipped off her shirt and placed it on her peacoat. Turning, she stared him straight in the eye. “They are amazing. Those homes are what you should be designing.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

She ignored his surly tone and unzipped her jeans.

“What are you doing?” he snarled, a sneer covering his face, warning her off. “You don’t want to be naked in front of me, do you?”

“Someone in this relationship has to start.” She pushed down her jeans. A tingle of old pain trembled through her, but she thrust it away.

Alex was worth this. Worth exposing herself. Worth risking everything.

She straightened, wearing only her plain white bra, her old pink panties, and a pair of black socks. Her big breasts pressed along the seams of the bra, her round tummy couldn’t be hidden by the stretch of her underwear, and the black socks probably made her appear like a little old lady.

She must look a sight.

He stared at her, his blue eyes hard and cold. “Go ahead. I bet you can’t do it.”

“And I bet I can.”

G
od damn it
. She was so beautiful.

And stubborn.

A potent combination that struck right at his libido and straight into his heart.

“Sophia.” He spoke in the voice he’d used when he’d hated her because he couldn’t handle this or her right now. Not now. “I don’t want you. Go away.”

Her round, little face scowled. “Guess what, Stravoudas?”

“Soph—”

“I can see right through the water.” Her gaze slid down his torso. “You’re lying.”

The woman had no idea what would happen if she came into this pool. The turmoil inside him was too horrible, too forceful to control. It was why he’d left her alone, why he’d come down to his place. The place he came to when he had to wrestle with his father’s memory and reaffirm his purpose.

“You’re a woman.” He pushed his sneer wider. “You have the basic equipment any man wants and you’re half naked.”

Her dark gaze narrowed. But she didn’t quit. She didn’t do what he wanted her to.

Cover herself. Cry. Run.

Why was she forcing him to be brutal? She needed to give him a few more days. Then he’d be back to normal. He’d have everything straightened out inside him.

“Just because I have an erection doesn’t mean I want sex.” He kept the sneer, kept the hate in his voice. “I don’t.”

She made that ugly sound in her throat. The sound he’d thought unappealing weeks ago but now found it rumbling inside him, making him hot with anger and hunger.

“You’re so full of it, Alex.” Leaning down, she yanked off both socks and flicked them onto her pile of clothes. In the process, she gave him an eye-popping view of her abundant cleavage.

His cock started its predictable howl for Sophie.

She straightened, her brown eyes serious. “Unlike everyone else, I can see straight through you.”

Everything inside shuddered. The lust, his heart, the fear.

Her plump hands circled behind her back and her bra loosened, slid.

“No, no.” He wanted to lunge toward her, to stop her, to hold her. Instead, he backed into the wall of the pool. “Stop.”

The bra landed on the rock. “You want me,” she said with simplicity, as if the truth had always been there and always would be. “And you need me.”

True. Both sentences.

Still, she didn’t understand.

He hadn’t deserted her because he’d wanted to; he’d done it to protect her. During these last few months, everything on the outside of his life had exploded, driving him here to Greece. Back to a place he called home.

Yet it was more. Much more.

This place gave him back his father, gave him back some peace. He’d thought coming here would settle him. This place would clear his mind and make him remember his promises as it always had previously. He’d brought Sophie here thinking she’d be a part of putting him all back together.

But on the very first night here, he’d known everything inside him was exploding too.

He didn’t want her to be hurt in the fallout.

She gave him a look from under her lashes. One he’d never seen from her before. A fiery, sizzling look that burned right through his objections and headed like an arrow to his cock.

“Stop. Right now.”

Ignoring his words, she kept her gaze on his face. Her hands lifted to her hair, pulling her ponytail out. The action shifted her bountiful tits, making them jiggle in the misty air. Making him hotter than he’d ever been. Ever.

“You have to stop.” God help him, he was begging. Because he knew something she didn’t. He wouldn’t be the perfect lover he’d been in Paris. He was too angry, too confused. All of that frustration would be taken out on this fluff of a woman.

“I’m not stopping.” She pulled her panties down, giving him another shot of outstanding cleavage.

Then, she stood.

Naked in front of him.

Alex couldn’t help himself. He took her in. The beauty of her red-brown hair slipping over her rounded shoulders. Her dark eyes staring right back at him. The captivating curve of her breasts with her wine-colored nipples. The lush arc of her hips, her plump thighs, her pretty ankles.

“Sophie.” He tried one more time to save her. “You don’t know what’s going to happen if you come in here.”

“Oh.” She gave him a smile as old as the ages. A smile only a woman can give. “I think I do.”

He sucked his breath in when she dipped one toe into the heated water. Another breath when she sunk into the pool to her waist. The last breath, maybe the final breath he’d ever take, when she swam toward him.

“I’m warning you.” The limestone dug into his shoulder blades. “I’m not going to be able to control myself.”

Her cocoa eyes lit as if he’d given her a present. “That sounds perfect to me.”

Sophia Feuer was crazy.

She didn’t want to see him wild.

She didn’t want to see him turn into an animal.

Her hands landed on his chest, pushing at his heart. “Come on, Alex,” she purred. “Give it to me.”

It being himself. All his insane ideas and stupid needs and angry desires. All of the stuff he’d managed to leave behind when he’d made his promises. “You don’t know—”

“I know.” Reaching up, she tugged his hair loose. His curls tangled in her fingers and she used them to pull him into her body. “Come on. Show me.”

The feel of her satin skin on his made the inside chaos boil over. The last thought he had before exploding was he’d never be the same, never be the Alex Stravoudas he’d been only one moment ago.

“Fine,
krotída mou.
” He yanked her into his arms, fitting her into his soul. “I’ll show you.”

F
or a second
, Sophie relished the feel of his body surrounding her. The hard muscles of his chest on her cheek, the taut strength of his arms on her back. The heat of his erection branding her tummy.

But then, the hardness, the strength, the heat were gone.

His hands latched onto her shoulders and swung her around, making her dizzy.

“What?” she shrieked in surprise.

“I told you.” His voice sounded nothing like the suave, charming New Yorker she’d dealt with before. Now his voice was the guttural rumble of a male beast. “I warned you.”

A shiver of delicious, erotic fear ran down her spine.

Alex lifted her from behind, the hair of his arms caressing her stomach. Striding over to the edge of the pool, he dropped her onto her knees on a stone ledge. Without even asking, he yanked her hands, placing them on the marble wall in front of her. “Keep them there.”

Oh, my
. This was what she wanted. No perfect man. No perfect laugh or smile or manners. This was the Alexander Stravoudas she’d wanted to see from the first moment she’d met him. She wanted to see him raw and real, rough and right. She hadn’t realized this salient fact until this very moment.

“Hmm.” Approval strummed in her throat.

The lean body behind her stilled, as if surprised.

“Keep going,” she said. “I’m all yours.”

He grunted and his hard hands landed on the inside of her thighs, pushing them wider. The water lapped around her sides and on her breasts, heating her and making her skin tingle. Leaning her cheek on the marbled wall, she closed her eyes and let herself go.

Right into Alex’s big, brute hands.

Blunt fingers brushed between her legs, right into the heart of her. She moaned and wiggled her hips.

A short bark of laughter came from him. “Dammit. You destroy me.”

Another wiggle of hips. She didn’t want him to play with her. She wanted him to take her.

“I can’t…” he gasped. “I’m trying—”

“I’m ready.” She arched her back, pushing her ass out of the water. “Right now.”

“
Theós gamó̱to
.” His tongue slurred over the vowels, making the foreign words sound like a cursed prayer. His fingers disappeared, the forceful head of his cock taking their place.

Sophie groaned her encouragement.

His tight grip on her hips imprinted into her skin and she knew she’d have bruises there, his mark. She wiggled again.

With one sharp move, he entered her deeply. The feel of him coming into her, the male length filling her female core like a hand into a glove, the feel made her scream in pleasure.

He jerked to a stop once more. He panted above her. “Sophie?”

“Don’t stop,” she groaned, frustration running through her. Getting rid of the last vestiges of Alex’s perfection was going to drive her insane. “Don’t you dare stop.”

The hands on her hips flexed and with a harsh groan, he surged out and then in. His punishing pace pushed her in and out of the water, the waves lapping at her nipples, her shoulders bumping on the marble and limestone.

She’d be sore all over tomorrow.

How glorious and amazing and wonderful.

His heavy breathing filled the misted air. The slap, slap of his thighs on her butt, muffled by the water, were still a potent echo of what went on between them. She felt her orgasm building inside, the shivering, shattering excitement blasting through her with every one of his thrusts.

“Sophie.” The one word was tight with want and need. Also something deeper, stronger. Something that made her heart sing.

Her body exploded.

“Oooooohhh.” Her whole body arched into his, pushing into his hips, clenching around his cock.

He swore above her, another foreign word, strained and taut. His hands tightened once again and if she weren’t in the middle of the best orgasm she’d ever had, they would have hurt. But the sting of pain only emphasized the deep, delicious pleasure he gave her. “Alex,” she crooned through the last, lingering bliss. “Come inside me.”

He tensed, and then his lean hips pumped in a mad frenzy, pushing her back and forth on the stone step. She let him have his way. Moving in the waving water like one of the lily pads, she focused on the body behind her and how much she wanted him to feel the full desire she’d just experienced.

“Aaah,” he gasped, then groaned. His body curved around hers, and she felt the sweet, hot surge of his orgasm inside her as his hips pumped once, and once more.

Everything inside her went still as if the world had ended and begun at this moment. The mist wafted around them, the gentle silky feel of it smoothing over their skin. Intermixed with the mist, a few snowflakes sifted down, melting before they landed on the pond.

His chest moved on her back, an inhalation, a breath out. His hands loosened their tight grip on her hips and brushed across her sides and breasts.

Sophie quivered with delight.

She didn’t want this moment to end, this time where he and she were together, not only physically, but she hoped and prayed…emotionally…spiritually.

The knowledge zinged straight to her heart once more.

She loved him.

When she’d been taking her clothes off in front of him, she’d been more focused on reaching him. Yes, it had been a risk, yet in the heat of her actions, she hadn’t been thinking of her emotional state, she’d been thinking of his.

But now it fully hit her.

Taking off her clothes hadn’t been only about pulling his attention away from his pain. The action had been about exposing herself to him entirely.

Physically. Emotionally. And spiritually.

He moved behind her in a sudden, wrenching motion. As he slipped out of her, she took a big gulp of air, then straightened and turned to meet her lover and her love.

He glowered at her with bright, azure eyes.

Not quite what she’d expected after the best sexual experience of her life. He stood, the water to his waist, the mist streaking down his heaving, broad chest, looking like a Greek god come to life. An angry god ready to throw down some lightning bolts.

“Alex—”

“Look what you’ve done.” His hands fisted by his side.

“I’m not the only one who did some things a few minutes ago.” She gave him a wry smile. He was upset, but she knew him well now. He was more upset at himself than her. “And they were lovely things you did.”

His eyes went from bright to fierce. “You made me do those things. I warned you.”

“Are you listening to me?” Her temper bubbled as it always did around this man. Along with it, came the usual desire trailing right behind. Another thing that always happened around this man. “I loved what we just did.”

“You’re crazy.” He slapped the water with his hand making her jump. “I attacked you.”

“Alex—”

“Hell.” His expression went blank as his skin whitened. Big, brute hands reached up to scrape through his golden curls as if he were about to tear out his hair. “We didn’t even use a condom.”

Oops. Well, that had never happened before. She’d always been conscientious regarding birth control and disease. A whisper of unease went through her. After all, this was The Perfect Man. He might have not done anything with Melanie, yet there’d been the month after… “Should I be worried?”

“Not if your aim is to get pregnant,” he snarled. “Though that might put a bit of a crimp in your all-important business, Sophia.”

“I meant disease.” She was on the pill, so she didn’t have a lot of worry about pregnancy, but this guy was a player. Or had been.

His eyes widened with surprise and then narrowed into lasers of blue steel. “I told you Melanie and I—”

“You had a month after the split to fool around.” She suddenly felt her nakedness like a brand. Wrapping her arms around her chest, she managed to give him an accusing squint. “Plus, what’s not to say you haven’t been doing some stuff on the side while we’ve been—”

“No.” His mouth went grim. “You can’t believe that.”

No, she couldn’t believe that. Alex might be arrogant and full of himself sometimes, still, at heart, he was an honorable man. A gentleman.

“I’m sorry,” she sputtered. How had they come to this? After the best lovemaking in all of eternity, here they were throwing insults at each other when they should be kissing and cuddling and making love again. “I don’t believe—”

“Then there’s you.” His jaw clenched. “You with your fancy Frenchmen slathering all over you. Who’s to say you don’t have some kind of disease?”

“Slathering?” The charge was so absurd it shot right past her temper and triggered her funny bone.