Mistresses: Passionate Revenge. Trish Morey
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flesh rather than velvet, and breathed as if the mild night air moved through them, the brush of them on her shoulder like the warm brush of a lover’s lips, she could feel no less comforted.
Cleo woke alone in the wide bed to the spill of sunshine through tall narrow windows and a feeling of disbelief suffusing her veins. She was here. She was really here, lying in bed in a centuries-old mansion on a Greek island and last night—last night she’d slept with a real Greek billionaire, a Greek billionaire who’d honoured her condition that sex was no part of this deal!
A shiver ran down her spine. Four weeks, the contract had stipulated. Four weeks she could be here, sharing Andreas’ bed. After last night the prospect was suddenly more thrilling than threatening. Scattered remnants came to her then, of a warm hand and a silken touch, of the press of thigh and a puff of breath at her neck, and the press of lips…
She must have been dreaming again.
She pulled on the robe she’d left lying on the end of the bed just as the chimes of a clock on a mantelpiece rang out, drawing her eye. Ten in the morning! Even allowing for the two-hour time difference with London, she hadn’t slept in so late for months. No wonder Andreas wasn’t here. He’d probably gone to work hours ago. And no wonder she was so hungry, it was hours since they’d eaten on the plane. She was halfway to the bathroom when it caught her eye, a patch of blue through the whisper-thin gauzy curtains billowing in the soft breeze, so blue that she was compelled to draw the curtain and investigate.
What she saw took her breath away. There was a terrace outside the window, whitewashed and dazzling in the morning sun, and then the earth must have fallen away beneath them, for a long way below shimmered a sea of the brightest blue she’d ever seen, a sea that stretched before another island that rose, tall and long and dusted with white buildings. And to the left sat another islet, low and wide and dark.
So this was Santorini? No wonder Kurt had raved about it to her. Even if he had never visited, even if he’d never intended bringing her here, maybe for once he hadn’t been lying. It was breathtakingly beautiful.
And now she had four weeks to enjoy it, to share it with Andreas…
‘You’re up, then.’
She turned with a start to see him standing in the doorway. He looked as fresh as the morning, his hair damp at the ends where it curled over his collar, a white shirt and fitted trousers making the most of his lean shape.
And suddenly she wasn’t sure what to be the more embarrassed about, finding herself staring hungrily at the delicious V of olive skin where his shirt was unbuttoned, or the knowledge that without intimacy they’d slept together and would do again, tonight. Damn it if her nipples hadn’t already tightened under the robe in anticipation, her pulse sending blood to all the places that shouldn’t even know he existed, but seemed to anyway. It was only sleep with him they had to look forward to, but that seemed to make no difference; she tingled all over.
‘I thought you’d gone to work.’
‘There were some things I had to attend to.’ He stopped in front of her and curled a hand under her hair, skimming her neck with his fingertips and drawing her closer, his eyes on her mouth. She sensed he was going to kiss her and she made no move to shift away, her eyelids fluttering closed on a sigh. Why should she when his touch felt so good, and when he’d agreed to her terms? Sex might be out but a kiss was definitely within the bounds of conditions she’d set. She could deal with that. Surely this was the best of all worlds?
‘Good. You didn’t jump,’ he said, abruptly letting her go before their lips had even connected.
She blinked, swaying momentarily until she regained her bearings. ‘I what?’
‘We seem to be curing you of your habit of jumping every time I touch you. This is a good start. Perhaps now you will be more convincing.’
‘Oh, of course.’ She studied her toes, while she pushed her hair back behind her ears, feeling a total fool for thinking he wanted to kiss her, a total fool for being so eager. ‘That is good.’
He was already turning to go when he turned back. ‘Breakfast is being served on the terrace if you’re hungry.’
She nodded, looking to his eyes for a hint, hoping to find a trace of the warmth and comfort she’d felt last night in her sleep, but there was nothing there and she knew what she’d felt had been a dream.
‘I’ll be along as soon as I’m dressed.’
There was nothing to feel disappointed about, she told herself as she took a shower in the luxurious marble bathroom, the spray from the shower more like a downpour, raining down sense on an otherwise wayward brain. What was her problem? She had a job to do for four weeks and then she would return home, a millionaire. Tenderness didn’t come into it.
She stepped out onto the sun-washed terrace and any remaining sense of disappointment evaporated in the wonder of the place he’d brought her to. What she’d glimpsed through the bedroom window had been magical. But outside on the terrace the view was simply breathtaking.
She could see from one end of this island to the other, the sweeping curve of dark cliffs topped with whitewashed villages that clung to the very edge of the cliff like icing spilling over the sides of a cake.
Andreas sat at the table already but, despite her growling stomach, she was too excited right now to sit and eat. How could she even think about eating when there was so much to devour with her eyes?
A breeze toyed with the ends of her hair as she stood at the balustrade, the air pure and clean as she gazed out across the sapphire-blue waters. The light was wonderful, more like the bright sunlight of home rather than the grey misty blanket that so often shrouded London, defining everything with sharp detail, so that even islands far beyond this ring of cliffs could be clearly seen.
Either side of her, the town of Fira spread across the clifftop, a jumble of closely packed buildings, some adorned with splashes of colourful bougainvillea and punctuated by stairways and narrow paths that somehow combined harmoniously to create a picture of charm, while far below two sleek cruise ships sat anchored. For a second memories of Kurt once more invaded her thoughts, but only for a moment. She was no day visitor here; she was living here for a month.
‘What do you think?’
Andreas appeared at her side, his arm looping casually around her shoulders. Appearances, she told herself, willing away the jag in her heart rate, he’s merely keeping up appearances for the maid busy filling up coffee cups. But it didn’t matter so much any more, not when she was being treated to a place of such amazing beauty that the man-made seemed not to detract from but to complement the natural.
‘It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how you can bear to leave it.’
He smiled as if pleased with her reaction. ‘It is always good to come home. Come.’ He drew her further around the terrace, pointing out the various islands. ‘This is the main island, known as Thera. The island across the water is called Therassia, and the tiny one between is known as Aspronisi.’
‘What about that one?’ She pointed to the low dark isle she’d noticed earlier.
‘That is Nea Kameni, the volcano.’
Her head swung around. ‘Volcano!’
He laughed, a rich deep sound that in normal circumstances would allay her fears. But these were hardly normal circumstances. He expected her to live on the edge of a volcano? ‘Like I was telling you last night, this ring of islands and these cliffs are the remains of the caldera after an eruption thousands of years ago. The empty chamber filled with sea water causing a massive explosion into which the volcano collapsed. This ring of islands is all that’s left.’
Despite the warming rays of the sun, Cleo shivered. The island cliffs formed a crater that was enormous. That something so beautiful could be created from something so devastating beggared belief. ‘But it’s safe now, isn’t it?’
‘Oh,