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What The Greek Wants Most(10)

By:Maya Blake


His nostrils flared immediately, hunger darkening his eyes to a   leaf-green that was mesmerising to witness. With another swirl of her   tongue, she lowered the spoon and scooped up another mouthful.

His large fist tightened around the after-dinner espresso he'd opted for   and she momentarily expected the bone china to shatter beneath his   grip. But slowly he released it and sat back in his chair, his eyes   never leaving her face.

'Enjoying your dessert, anjo?' he asked in that low, rough tone of his.

She hated to admit that the endearment was beginning to have an effect   on her. The way he mouthed it made heat bloom in her belly, made her   aware of her every heartbeat … made her wonder how it would sound   whispered to her at the height of passion. No!

'Yes. Very much.' She fake smiled to project an air of nonchalance.

He smiled at her mocking formality. 'Good. I'll make a note of it for the next time we dine together.'

Before she could tell him she intended to move heaven and earth to make   sure there wouldn't be a next time, Pietro lurched to his feet. 'I  never  got the chance to inspect my … this boat before the opportunity to  buy it  was regrettably taken away. You won't mind if I take a look  around,  would you?' he slurred.

Theo motioned the hovering waiter over. He murmured to him and the   waiter went to the deck bar and picked up a handset. 'Not at all. My   skipper will give you the tour.'

A middle-aged man with greying hair climbed onto the deck a few minutes later and escorted a swaying Pietro towards the stairs.

Inez watched him go with a mixture of anxiety and sympathy.

'He's drunk.' Her appetite gone for good, she set her spoon down and pushed the plate away.

'You say that as if it's my fault,' he replied lazily.

'Did you really have to do that?' She glared at him.

He raised a brow. 'Do what, exactly?'

'This was supposed to be Pietro's boat.' No matter how unrealistic that   notion had been, her brother didn't deserve to be humiliated like this.

'Supposed being the operative word. We had a gentleman's agreement.'   That hard bite was back again, sending trepidation dancing along her   nerve ends. 'He didn't hold out his end of the deal.'

'Regardless of that, do you have to rub his nose in it like this?' she countered.

'As I said before, I'm a businessman, anjo. And I currently have a yacht   worth tens of millions of dollars that needs an owner. The Boat Show   starts next week. I relocated aboard in order to get it in shape for   prospective buyers, otherwise our dinner would have taken place at my   residence in Leblon and your brother's delicate feelings would've been   spared.'                       
       
           



       

She frowned. 'You're selling the boat?' The thought of the beautiful   vessel going to some unknown, probably pompous new owner made her nose   wrinkle in distaste. The design was exquisite, unique … sort of like its   owner. As hard as she tried to imagine it, she couldn't see anyone else   owning the boat besides Theo. Not even Pietro. Its black and gold   contrasts depicted darkness and light in a complementary synergy-two   fascinating characteristics she'd glimpsed more than once in Theo.

'Needs must.'

She looked around the beautiful deck, imagined its graceful lines awash with sunlight, and sighed.

Theo's eyes narrowed as he stared across at her. 'You like the boat.'

'Yes, it's … beautiful.'

He watched her for a few minutes then he nodded. 'Let's make a date for Sunday afternoon. We'll take her out for a quick spin.'

She laughed. 'Unless I'm mistaken, this is a four hundred foot vessel. You don't just take her out for a quick spin.'

'A long spin, then. I need to make sure it runs perfectly. If you still like it when we return to shore, I'll keep it.'

Her heart lurched then sped up like a runaway freight train. 'You would do that … for me?'

'Sim,' he replied simply.

Genuine puzzlement, along with a heavy dose of excitement she didn't want to admit to, made her blurt, 'Why?'

He strolled lazily to where she stood. This close, she had to tilt her   head to catch his gaze. Darkness and light. He might have been smiling   but Inez could almost reach out and touch the undercurrent of emotions   swirling beneath his civility. She jumped slightly when he brushed a   forefinger down her cheek.

'Because I intend to keep you, anjo. And while you will not have a lot   of choice in the matter, I'm willing to make a few adjustments to ensure   your contentment.'





CHAPTER FIVE

THEO WATCHED HER grapple with what he'd just said. Unlike her brother,   she wasn't inebriated-she'd barely touched her glass of the rich Barolo   2009 he'd specially chosen for their dinner.

She shook her head in confusion. 'You intend to keep me?'

Her skin, satin-smooth beneath his touch, begged to be caressed. He gave   in to the urge and traced her from cheek to jaw. When she withdrew  from  him, he followed. He stroked the pulse beating in her neck and  pushed  back the need to step closer, touch his mouth to the spot.

He'd learnt two things last night.

The first was that Benedicto da Costa, for all his cunning and veneer of   sophistication, was still a greedy, vicious snake who thought he could   con millions of dollars out of an unsuspecting fool like him.

The second was that Inez da Costa could be a key player in the slow and   painful revenge he intended to exact for the wrong done to him. It   didn't hurt that the chemistry between them burned the very air they   breathed.

In the past Theo had made several opportune decisions by switching   tactics at the last minute and making the most of whatever situation he   found himself him.

With the newfound information at his fingertips, he'd found a way not   only to end the da Costas once and for all, but also to make a tidy   profit to boot.

He barely stopped himself from smiling as he looked down into Inez's   face. She really was stunningly beautiful. With a mouth that begged to   be explored.

'Mr Pantelides?'

'Theo,' he murmured, anticipating her refusal to use his first name.

She blew out an exasperated breath. 'Theo. Explain yourself.'

The unexpected sound of his name on her lips sent a pulse of heat   through his body. Followed swiftly by a feeling he recognised as   pleasure.

With a silent curse he dropped his hand. Pleasure featured nowhere on   his mission to Rio. Nor was standing around, gazing into the face that   reminded him of the painting of an angel that used to hang in his   father's house.

Pain. Reparation. Merciless humiliation. Those were his objectives.

'There's no hidden message in there, anjo. For the duration of my stay   in Rio I expect you to make yourself available to me, day and night.'

Her genuine laughter echoed around the open deck. When he didn't join   in, she quickly sobered. 'Oh, I'm sorry. But I believe you have me   confused with a certain type of woman you must encounter on your   travels.'                       
       
           



       

Theo let the insult slide. He'd told his skipper to take his time with   the tour, but even his trusted employee couldn't keep Pietro away for   ever. And it looked as if he needed to step up this part of his strategy   in order to forward his overall objective.

'I was supposed to sign documents that guaranteed your father's campaign   funds this morning but I didn't turn up. Aren't you even a little bit   curious as to why?'

A touch of confusion clouded her brown eyes but she shrugged one   silky-smooth shoulder that shimmered softly under the deck lights. 'Your   business with my father is not my concern.'

A little of that control he kept under a tight leash threatened to slip   free. 'You don't care where the money comes from as long as you're kept   in the style to which you've grown accustomed, is that it?'

Her eyes widened at the acid leaching from his tone. 'You may think you know me but, I assure you, you've got things wrong-'

'Have I? From where I'm standing it's very evident you're the bait he   uses to trap weak, pathetic fools into opening their wallets.'

Her ragged gasp accompanied a look of outrage so near authentic Theo   would've believed her reaction had he not seen her in action with   Delgado last night.

'If it is your intention to be offensive to show your machismo, then   bravo, you've succeeded,' she threw at him and whirled away.

He caught her wrist before she could take a step.

'Let me go.'

'I've yet to outline my plans, anjo.'

'I think you've outlined enough. I won't stand here listening to your   unfounded insults. I'm going to find Pietro. And then we're leaving.'   She tried to free herself. He tightened his grip until he could feel her   pulse under his fingers. Furious. Passionate.