The Greek Billionaire's Innocent Rrincess(12)

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.