uncertainly while he dropped down onto the dry sand, the common sense for which she was
famed telling her to go—now—before she did something she would later regret. But her feet
seemed to be melded to the floor of the cave, and when he patted the sand next to him she
walked slowly forwards.
He held out a bottle of champagne. ‘Here, have some. You’re shivering again. It’s a pity it isn’t
brandy, but I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with vintage Bollinger.’ He stretched out so that
his lean, hard body was spread temptingly before her. His white silk shirt was open at the throat
revealing the tanned column of his throat and a mass of dark body hair that she’d noticed also
covered his forearms. He was so male , so overwhelmingly virile, Kitty thought shakily as she sank onto her knees beside him and took the bottle.
‘It doesn’t seem right to drink champagne from the bottle,’ she murmured. ‘It’s
very…decadent.’
‘ Decadent? ’ Nikos’s low rumble of laughter echoed around the cave. ‘What a curious mix of
contradictions you are, Rina. You sound as prim as a Victorian governess, and yet you’re happy
to go skinny-dipping in the moonlight. Do I need to remind you that you are naked beneath my
jacket?’
He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a woman blush, Nikos mused idly. The sexually
confident women he dated were sophisticated game-players long past the first flush of virginal
innocence. The thought caused him to frown as he watched Kitty take a sip of champagne. She
seemed to be a curious mixture: shy one minute and eagerly responsive to him the next. When he
had first kissed her he’d gained the impression that it was a new experience for her, but after her
initial hesitation she had parted her mouth beneath his and kissed him back with such fiery
passion that he had dismissed the idea.
He didn’t need to remind himself that she was wearing nothing, he acknowledged grimly when
she handed him the champagne bottle and he took a long draught. The dinner jacket was far too
big for her and fastened so low that he could see the rounded contours of her breasts. He did not
know what crazy impulse had made him ask her to stay, and he was already regretting it. He
never made rash decisions. Even when he gambled he carefully weighed up the odds before he
threw the dice. But for some reason Rina disturbed his cool, logical brain—and disturbed other
areas of his body too. He wanted to kiss her again and never stop, but instead he forced himself
to relax and tried to ignore the temptation of tasting champagne from her lips.
‘So, Rina,’ he queried lightly, ‘what made you decide to become a waitress?’
Oh, Lord—how did she answer that? ‘I…um, I need to work,’ Kitty mumbled awkwardly,
thinking that now might be a good time to bid him goodnight. ‘Like most people, I have to earn a
living, and I’m not trained to do anything else.’ She thought of the years she’d spent studying for
her degree, and her absorbing work at Aristo’s museum, and tried to imagine what life would be
like if she hadn’t had the benefit of an excellent education, and really did have to work in some
menial job. She had little idea of life outside her gilded cage, and although she supported various
charities she couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be poor. The only experience she’d had of
life in the real world was when she had worked as a volunteer at Aristo’s hospital, but, although
she had found the work rewarding, her father had disapproved—citing concerns for her safety—
and forbidden her from going.
‘Have you always lived on Aristo?’
That was easier to answer, and Kitty nodded. ‘I was born here, and I never want to live
anywhere else. Aristo is the most beautiful place on earth.’
Nikos laughed. ‘Have you visited many other places, then—on a waitress’s pay?’
‘Well…no,’ Kitty faltered. She could hardly tell him that she had spent a year travelling around
Europe and had visited Paris, Rome, cosmopolitan London, Venice and Florence, followed by
six months at an exclusive finishing school in Switzerland. She had been a guest at royal palaces
and country mansions, had wandered around fabulous art galleries and been taken on tours of all
the famous sights, but nowhere compared to Aristo, the jewel of the Mediterranean. ‘Aristo is my
home and I love it here,’ she told Nikos firmly.
Her passion for the island intrigued him, and he wondered why she felt so strongly about it. Was
it the place or people that held her heart? ‘Do you have a family here?’ he asked curiously.