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Pretending with the Greek Billionaire(7)

By:Kira Archer


“What is it? Is it one of the girls?” she asked.

“No, but I need to run out for a minute. A quick errand. Could you come keep an ear out for them?”

Thankfully, Mrs. Ballas was too tired to question her much. She was at Constance’s and snoring on the couch before Constance could grab her keys and lock the door behind her. She jumped onto her beat-up old scooter and headed out. If there was one person who could set the record straight, it was Luca. Maybe she could get him to speak to her directors, tell them it wasn’t as bad as it looked, that it had been his fault.

Constance pulled up to the gate outside Luca’s property and pushed the little button on the call box.

“May I help you?”

“Mr. Stavros, is that you?”

“Indeed it is. To whom am I speaking?”

“This is Constance McMurty, from earlier…”

“Ah yes. Miss McMurty. What can we do for you this evening?”

“I was hoping to speak to Mr. Vasilakis. It won’t take long.”

“One moment please.”

Constance gripped the handlebars while a thousand octopi flopped around in her stomach.

“Mr. Vasilakis would be happy to speak with you,” Joseph said. There was a loud clicking sound and the scrolled metal gates opened to welcome her in.

“Oh God, here we go,” she muttered, easing her scooter through the gates and up to the main house.

She didn’t have any time to steel herself to see him again. When she got off her moped, Luca stood in the open doorway, leaning against the jamb with his arms folded across his bare chest. Her gaze traveled over his body, a little shiver running through her as she took in the soft flannel pants that barely clung to his corded hips, and nothing else but a solid expanse of kissable skin. His thick, black hair hung in damp tendrils to his shoulders, like he’d just stepped out of the shower. The scent of his soap, something musky and masculine, grew stronger the closer she got to him and she had to resist the urge to sniff the air like some rabid bloodhound.

When she got nearer, he padded toward her on bare feet, not stopping until he was only a few inches from her. Constance craned her neck to look up at him.

“Stanzia, you’ve come back for another visit?”

“Constance,” she murmured. “My name is Constance, though I’d prefer if you’d call me Miss McMurty.”

“But I wouldn’t prefer it. Much too reserved for the woman who fell into my arms this afternoon. Stanzia is softer, sweeter on the lips.” He glanced at her mouth and it was all she could do to keep from tucking her lips in, away from his heated gaze. “It shall be my pet name for you.”

Constance frowned and backed away from him. “You don’t know me well enough to give me a pet name. It’s Miss McMurty. We need to speak about this afternoon.”

Luca stepped aside and held his arm out. “By all means, enter.”

She hadn’t really noticed her surroundings earlier when they’d run inside to escape the helicopter. The simplicity of the space surprised her. Inside was well lit, tastefully decorated, completely harmless looking. So why did it feel like she’d been welcomed into some depraved den of sin?

Joseph welcomed her with a huge smile. “Kalispera, Miss McMurty. May I get you something to drink?”

“Good evening, Mr. Stavros. No, thank you. I’m fine.”

“Call me Joseph, please.”

“Call me Constance,” she said, smiling at him. Him, she liked. His boss on the other hand…

“You allow him to call you by your given name?” Luca asked, brow furrowed in consternation. Or was it amusement? Why did he always seem to be either irritated or laughing at her?

“He has been nothing but courteous and respectful. He’s earned the right to use my given name.”

The eyebrow quirked up again and this time she definitely detected amusement. The man was insufferable.

Luca’s arm brushed against hers as he walked by her and she shivered again. How did the merest touch from that man do that to her? He sprawled on the large white leather sofa and gestured to the matching overstuffed armchair facing him.

“Have a seat.”

She perched on the edge of the chair ready to run at the first sign of any funny business.

His lips twitched as he settled back against the cushions and she narrowed her eyes. He had her number and he knew it, and despite her best intentions, there didn’t seem to be a damned thing she could do about it. Best to get on with her business and get the hell out of there before she let her severely neglected hormones totally ruin her life.

“So what can I do for you?” Luca asked, his dark brown eyes and slowly smiling lips insinuating there was much he’d like to do to her…er, for her.