Island Fling With The Tycoon. Therese Beharrie
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then nodded. ‘I have it handled.’ He finished the call, though Piper could still hear speaking coming from the other end.
They looked at each other. Piper’s heart began to pound. It jumped into her throat when her phone rang. She brought it to her ear without breaking eye contact.
‘Yeah?’
‘Pie, Caleb says he has it handled. I have no idea what that means, but—’
‘It means he’s here,’ Piper interrupted. ‘My ride’s here.’
‘Did you say he’s here?’ Liam asked, tone incredulous. ‘As in, you think Caleb is there to pick you up?’
‘Yes.’
‘That can’t be right.’
‘Hold on.’ She lowered her phone, pressing it to her chest. ‘Are you Emma’s Caleb?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re here to pick me up?’
‘Yes.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Yeah, it’s him,’ she said, speaking into the phone again. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
‘Pie? Piper!’
‘What?’
‘Be careful.’
‘Be...’
But her brother had already ended the call. This time, she didn’t mind because she barely noticed he had.
* * *
He was having a day. Caleb Martin did not have days.
He had successes. Wins. But this morning the catering company his sister Emma had hired to cater the rehearsal party—because a dinner was too small for her grandiose wedding—had cancelled because some pop star had hired their services instead. Emma had come to him in a panic and, though Mykonos wasn’t his home, Caleb had had to call in favours with every Greek contact he had to replace the caterer.
Since he didn’t have that many Greek contacts, it had taken nearly all morning to find someone else. Then, as if sensing his vulnerability, his driver had handed in his resignation. Apparently, the demands of the wedding were too much for the local to handle. The man clearly wasn’t used to responsibility.
Caleb hadn’t had the choice. He’d been forced into duty the moment his father had died and he’d been made guardian of his three young siblings. Perhaps that was why he didn’t have patience for the driver quitting. Or perhaps it was because the man had done so minutes before Liam’s sister was supposed to land. With everyone running around preparing for the party that was two hours away, Caleb had no choice but to do it himself.
But she’d been late. Or not late, he thought, looking at the woman peering up at him. Confused. Though how she could be confused when he was the only man standing in the damn airport, Caleb had no idea.
‘So, you’re picking me up?’ she said, bright brown eyes looking at him curiously. He couldn’t figure out if they were light brown or dark brown, or a mysterious mixture of the two. All he knew was they stood out against her skin—another interesting shade of brown—and that they tempted him into forgetting his annoyance.
‘Since I’m the only person in this airport with a sign,’ he said, voice harder than he’d intended, ‘the answer is obviously yes.’
She studied him before she answered. ‘Two things. One, you’re holding a sign that says Sunset Resort. The place I’m supposed to be staying at is called Pleasure Villas.’
Her cheeks turned a pretty pink colour. It almost distracted him from what she’d said. He looked down, cursed when he saw she was right. He’d grabbed the wrong sign from the seat of the car his driver had used.
Great.
‘Two,’ she continued as if she hadn’t paused to make him feel like a fool, ‘I was the only person standing out there for the last half an hour, too. If it was obvious that I should have noticed you, surely the same goes for you?’ Her eyebrows rose. ‘At least I have a legitimate excuse for not speaking to you. I didn’t know you’d be coming. But what’s your excuse? Didn’t you at least look at a picture of me?’
No, he hadn’t. Nor did he have an excuse, which she knew, based on that self-satisfied look on her face. He didn’t know how he could find the arrogant expression appealing. How he could be fascinated by the easy curves of her lips. He hadn’t even got to those intriguing eyes yet and he could feel his body leaning in, giving in to the desire to be closer to her.
He shut it down like a mousetrap on a mouse.
‘If you’re done, we can go.’
Amusement flickered in her eyes, but she was wise enough not to respond. She merely nodded and gestured for him to lead the way. He kept his complaints about the bad luck he was having to himself, though his mind went haywire, thinking about everything he should have been doing instead of fetching a snappy soon-to-be relative.
No, he thought immediately. She wouldn’t be his relative. Good thing, too, or the way his body was still demanding to be closer to her would be criminal.
Grunting, he took the handle of her bag. When he was met with resistance, he looked at her.
‘Is this going to be a problem?’
‘You tell me,’ she replied mildly. Which, of course, only annoyed him more.
‘I’d like to help you with your bag,’ he said through his teeth. ‘Would you give me the great pleasure of doing so?’
Her expression changed then. So marginally that if his attention hadn’t been focused on every twitch of her features he wouldn’t have noticed it. Her lips pursed for a second; the lines around her eyes became more distinct. Tension fluttered across her face, disappearing almost as soon as it appeared.
When she looked at him, her eyes were dull. Inexplicably, his stomach dropped.
‘Why?’ she asked him, her voice steady despite the tension. ‘Why do you want to carry my bag?’
‘Not because I don’t think you can do it,’ he replied, watching her closely. It caused another minute change—a ripple of pleasure. But surely she couldn’t take pleasure from him thinking she could do something as simple as carry her own bag? ‘I help my sisters with their things all the time.’
‘I’m not your sister.’
The words were soft. Softened something inside him, too. The annoyance went up another notch.
‘No, you’re not.’ He waited a beat. ‘Perhaps I wanted to be a gentleman.’
‘Something tells me being a gentleman isn’t a top priority for you.’
He didn’t wince, but he wanted to. She was right. He’d been acting like a jerk since they’d met. But the knowledge of it didn’t change that he was annoyed. That that annoyance wouldn’t allow him to be soft and kind with her. Although it did give him an excuse to give her what she wanted. What, apparently, was important to her.
‘Fine,’ he said after a beat, releasing his hold on her bag. ‘You can do it yourself. The car’s this way.’
He walked away, pretending not to notice her shocked expression.
EMMA’S BROTHER WAS not quite as mythical as she’d made him seem. He was very much human, Piper thought, unashamedly studying him as he drove.
His jaw was locked, the sharp angles of it more pronounced because of the tension. Most of his expression was still obscured by his glasses, though she could tell he was glowering. The glasses seemed necessary for that—or, rather, the expression seemed