Carole Mortimer - Mediterranean Seduction

Her candour seemed to surprise him. Iannis brought his arm down and shifted position. It was only then she realised how tense he was.

Last night was to have been the end of it, Iannis reminded himself grimly. Yet here she was, making the call he had just received redundant. But why? Because deep down he knew that whatever wrong she did to him he still wanted her? He would always want her? More than that, he actually resented those words of condemnation coming from the lips of someone who had never met her. How could they know anything ?

As his anger rose in Charlotte’s defence Iannis had to confess to a grudging admiration for the woman staring steadily at him now. Most people would have gone scurrying back down the path in the face of his anger, but she didn’t even flinch. She just stared straight back at him with that extraordinary emerald gaze, throwing off waves of defiance and disrespect. In spite of all the promises he had made to himself, desire tugged mercilessly at the edges of his control. It was an irresistible force. Countries had been lost for the sake of women as beautiful as Charlotte Clare.

Iannis smiled inwardly, knowing he should rejoice, because all he had at stake was his pride.

‘You’d better come in,’ he said coolly, standing aside. It was all he could do to keep his hands off her as she edged past him, and, hearing her sharp intake of breath, he knew she felt the same. Was it by chance that her magnificent breasts had brushed against his arm?

Charlotte had to remind herself that this was the man in whose arms she had slept all night. Could this really be the same man who had put her pleasure before his own and made her feel safe every step of the way? He seemed so cold, so distant. She had given him so much of herself—too much, she could see now—and it appeared that she would pay for her lack of judgement. Iannis had only taken what she had freely offered.

‘Marianna!’ Charlotte’s troubled thoughts were replaced by shock as the very last person she expected to see huffed down the internal staircase in a flurry of skirts. ‘Why are you here?’

‘I live next door. I take care of the cottage— and Iannis,’ Marianna explained, rolling her eyes to the heavens as she heaved a tolerant sigh.

Fresh flowers, clean shirts, pots in herbs. ‘I should have realised.’

‘Why should you?’ Marianna said, hurrying to reassure Charlotte with a pat on the arm. ‘You can’t be expected to know everything about Iskos. You have only been on the island five minutes.’

‘I don’t mean to interrupt—’

But he did, Charlotte thought, determined she would not be intimidated by Iannis, however autocratic and impatient his tone.

‘I have to go,’ Marianna said, distracting her. ‘There are things I must do in the village.’

‘Oh, no—’ The words froze on Charlotte’s lips as she realised that both Iannis and Marianna were staring at her.

‘I’m sorry, I must,’ Marianna replied with an apologetic shrug as she glanced up at Iannis.

Charlotte noticed the affectionate look that passed between them, but by the time Iannis turned back to her his expression had become impassive again.

‘Won’t you sit down?’ he invited politely and a little stiffly when Marianna had gone.

Charlotte accepted, sitting primly on the very edge of the hard upright chair. She felt his force field envelop her, even though he chose a seat far away from her, at the other side of the small table.

‘You came to see me,’ he said, easing back. ‘Why exactly?’

Hurt was a luxury Charlotte knew she could not afford. She hardened her heart. She had been a fool, but she had to put that behind her. She had to know who Iannis really was, understand the extent of the mistake she had made before she could move on. She didn’t need Iannis to like her, Charlotte reminded herself, meeting his searching gaze head-on. He was a resource…research for her article—for sex…

How had this happened? Iannis wondered, grinding his jaw with frustration. How could they sit like two strangers about to embark on a hostile discussion when all he wanted was take her in his arms?

How had he allowed this to happen? The final wall around his privacy had been breached. By Charlotte. The one person in the world he might have allowed in. But not now…not now that he understood why she had come here to Iskos.

And she thought it had come as a surprise to him that she had followed him! She shouldn’t have been so careless. Snoopers should make sure they are bug-proof, he mused, trying to read the thoughts behind her eyes—eyes that had grown as cold as green ice, he noted clinically.

The only good thing to be said in her favour was that she treated Marianna with respect. It intrigued him how the two women had built up such a close relationship in so short a time.

But no, that was not the only good thing about Charlotte, Iannis conceded as his gaze strayed to her breasts. He had the pleasure of seeing her nipples harden on demand through the flimsy cotton fabric of her dress…but her eyes were still hard, still calculating. His worth? The worth of her article about him? Let her suffer, let her wait, let her squirm beneath his interest. She had trespassed on his privacy, but that was the least of it, and now she had to pay.

He should have seen what was coming. Flaunting herself on the beach and then at the taverna…bringing herself to his attention. He should have walked away then, as he had walked away so many times before. But she had always stopped him—with her defiance, her passion, her vulnerability. Iannis ground his jaw, knowing that was the very last quality of Charlotte’s he wanted to examine right now.

He felt a familiar tug in his groin and hardened instantly. All he could think of was her face when he made love to her, the way she had called out to him, and his own immense satisfaction when he’d held her safe in his arms. And he had imagined his palate too jaded to respond with such eagerness, Iannis thought bitterly. Had she but known it, he was putty in her hands. But she had killed what might have been, in favour of reaping short-term benefits in cash!

He wanted revenge. He wanted it now—fiercely, overwhelmingly. For what she had destroyed she must pay.

She had such an appetite, he remembered, easing his position on the unyielding seat. He met Charlotte’s determined stare with a lazy, slanting gaze. An appetite for danger too—but that could be contained. He would contain it. And he would enjoy testing her defences. It would be interesting to see how much she would reveal under the most extreme form of coercion he could devise. She was angry now, he saw, as he looked at her, but it would take the merest shift to push all that passion onto quite a different track.

Holding Charlotte’s gaze, Iannis allowed his expression to soften just enough to snare her in his noose, and then, tightening it with a half-smile, he waited for the reaction he knew would come. He had the satisfaction of seeing Charlotte’s defiant gaze falter and her tongue creep out to moisten her lips. She was remembering, he thought with satisfaction. The explosive sex they had enjoyed was hardly something she would forget, he mused cynically, watching her eyes darken with desire.

Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat as Iannis looked at her. All the reasons for her visit drained from her mind. All she knew was that she wanted him. And when he stood and started moving round the table towards her it was like an irresistible force pulling her to her feet. Meeting him halfway, she felt nothing but a huge rush of relief when they crashed together and his arms closed around her.

She was home, she knew, and let out a soft cry as Iannis took possession of her mouth. Her lips were soft, still slightly swollen from the last time they had made love, and his mouth felt firm, hungry and demanding, just as she had dreamed it would, as he backed her to the door.