Mediterranean Seduction. Кэрол Мортимер
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her throat dry. How hard could it be to sleep with a man like Iannis? A shiver of anticipation ran through her as she continued to appraise him. There was a little matter of sexual frustration and low self-esteem to address, and he was just the person for the job. And, of course, she could delve into his psyche at the same time, to discover what made him tick—absolutely essential research for her article. So why was she hesitating? What on earth did she have to lose?
Lust did terrible things to you, Charlotte mused as she foraged in the chest where she kept her clothes. Here she was now, for instance—rifling through her swimming costumes in search of the most provocative. But none of them really answered her requirements. Most were faded and thin from too much exposure to the chemicals in the indoor pools at home. Finally she settled on an old white one. It was possibly the most disreputable of the lot—when wet it was practically transparent…
She would be some time, Iannis reasoned as he leaned over to pick up the sheets of paper Charlotte had carelessly dropped. He felt a rush of victory as he straightened up. By the time she returned he would have read them. He would know exactly what she was up to—
‘Iannis.’
He whirled around, his mouth tensing into an angry line. ‘Marianna!’ Iannis curbed his initial reaction. ‘How good to see you,’ he added in a softer voice.
‘Here. Give that to me,’ Marianna insisted, smiling as she advanced towards him. ‘Thespinis Charlotte is not going to want to lose any of her work.’
‘No,’ Iannis said, making nothing of it as he folded the sheets and slipped them into the back pocket of his denim shorts. ‘This is something of mine.’ He touched Marianna’s arm reassuringly.
Lifting her shoulders in an accepting shrug, she flashed him a quick smile and disappeared into the house.
Waiting a few moments, until he was sure he was alone, Iannis felt for the sheets of paper in his back pocket.
‘Sorry to keep you.’
His lips pressed down briefly with disappointment. So, reading Charlotte Clare’s work would have to wait. But there were compensations—in the form of this very lovely young woman, who was clearly prepared for whatever he had in mind.
This was going to be easier than taking candy from a baby, Iannis mused as Charlotte came towards him wearing a white bathing costume that left very little to his imagination. Yet again the costume looked like a relic from a museum. Possibly it had been bought from a thrift shop, or passed down through the generations. He kept his cynical thoughts to himself and his expression bland. It hardly mattered—she wouldn’t be wearing it for long.
Iannis led the way down to the beach, knowing Charlotte would be close behind. The only question was how far was he going to be able to push the offhanded manner. He smiled grimly to himself as he quickened his step and heard her slithering down the loose shale to keep up with him. She wouldn’t let him get away; that much was certain. He had met plenty of women like Charlotte Clare before—they would do anything for the chance to sleep with Iannis Kiriakos.
‘I’m sorry…’
He halted abruptly at the sound of Charlotte’s voice.
‘I’m sorry,’ Charlotte repeated. ‘I have to go back. I won’t keep you waiting long, Iannis. I promise.’ She wanted some clothes from the villa. Iannis was far too arrogant. She had made a huge mistake coming down to the beach half naked.
Iannis turned with impatience. They were almost halfway down the cliff—and Charlotte was right. She wouldn’t keep him waiting long.
‘Look,’ Charlotte said persuasively, ‘why don’t you go on? I’ve kept you waiting for ages already, and I know you’re ready—’
He swung round to look at her and had the satisfaction of seeing the words freeze on her lips. He was definitely ready. She was right about that. The barbecue could wait. But they’d need some sustenance by the time he’d finished with her.
‘Well? What is it now?’ he said, frowning impatiently as he grated out the words.
It would make his life easier if she could try and look less like a sun-kissed urchin and more the brazen seductress. Even the ancient costume only succeeded in adding to her air of innocence—her total lack of practice in the art of seduction. Iannis obliterated the thought before it could take root in his mind. Anyway, there were benefits to being alone for a few minutes, he reminded himself, thinking of the sheets of paper he had retrieved from her floor.
‘Be quick, then,’ he said, waving her away.
Perfect. Now he had the chance to read her papers and find out just what she’d been hiding…
‘Thespinis Charlotte!’
Planting his hands on his hips, Iannis swore softly in Greek as Marianna hurried towards them with a large basket hanging from her arm. He moved Charlotte aside to go and help Marianna, seeing she was slithering out of control down the steep track in her smooth-bottomed shoes.
‘What are you thinking of, Marianna?’ he said. ‘You might have hurt yourself.’
‘What is it, Marianna?’ Charlotte said with concern.
‘Only this,’ Marianna said, widening her eyes as she fanned herself vigorously. ‘You forgot towels. You forgot suncream. You forgot clothes. You forgot everything,’ she exclaimed, looking Charlotte up and down with concern. ‘You must not let this man hurry you off like that again. Make him wait,’ she counselled sternly, plucking out a suitably modest pair of knee-length shorts and a baggy tee shirt for Charlotte to wear.
‘You are very kind, Marianna,’ Iannis remarked softly.
Marianna contented herself with a knowing look and compressed her lips together in approval when Charlotte quickly put on the clothes she had brought from the villa.
Iannis knew he would have to subdue his desire to read whatever Charlotte had written until that evening. He would not let it spoil his day. Turning to view her, he discovered Charlotte was every bit as alluring now she was respectably dressed.
‘Take it slowly,’ he advised as Marianna started back up the slope. ‘The day is growing warm, and you are not as young as you were, Marianna Lyknos.’
As Marianna turned to wag an admonishing finger at him Iannis smiled. Okay, so Marianna had won this one. He’d have to work a little harder now to get at the goods—but how much of a delay would that amount to? A couple of seconds at most for the top, then the swimming costume and shorts would come off together in the same easy movement—ten seconds, maybe?
He felt a small sense of triumph—but then a pang of regret hit him hard. Why? Iannis asked himself impatiently, trying to shut down his conscience. Why should he care? Charlotte Clare was no different from any other woman. They were all the same—all after the same thing. He thought of Charlotte naked on the beach the first time he saw her. It only served to fuel his anger. Was this how beautiful women cheapened themselves nowadays? Didn’t she know all she had to do was act normally, talk normally, dress normally? She could wear a sack and he would want her just as much. He made a sound of contempt.
‘Are you all right?’
Charlotte stopped scrambling down the slope for a moment to take a look at him.
‘I’m just fine,’ Iannis confirmed, leaping past her onto the sand. Striding ahead, he made for a simple metal barbecue erected close to the cliff. If he remained close to her a moment longer she would see how angry she made him—and then all chance of a satisfactory conclusion to the day would be lost.
The sand felt cool and firm beneath Charlotte’s feet, but the sun was hot, and she was glad that Iannis had chosen a spot for lunch beneath the shelter of an overhanging rock.
‘Do you like sardines?’ he asked, without turning as he lit the coals.
‘I don’t know. I’ve never seen such big ones,’ Charlotte admitted honestly.