Therese Beharrie - Island Fling With The Tycoon

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 necessary. She hadn’t seen anything other than it since they’d met.

It wasn’t her fault he’d had the wrong sign. And maybe she should have asked him, but she never approached strange men. She steered away from men in general, actually. Found it to be a good rule since she didn’t trust her own judgement.

The first man she’d trusted had manipulated her whenever she’d allowed it. When she hadn’t, too. The second man she’d trusted had abandoned her; she still hadn’t forgiven her brother for that, if she was being honest. As for the third man...

She’d chosen Brad, and somehow he’d ended up being exactly like her father. She’d paid for that. Was still paying for it in the form of caution and rules and the constant fear of falling for the wrong person again.

She sucked her lip in, looked out of the window. Her trip down memory lane had extinguished her curiosity about the man beside her. Instead, she focused on the actual lane they were driving along. It was an apt description for the narrow road they were rattling down. Caleb handled it with a confidence she wasn’t sure the road warranted.

She wanted to tell him to slow down, to give way to the large buses driving the curves of the narrow road. To watch out for the scooters zooming past them at what felt like every turn. But her voice wouldn’t work. She suspected it had something to do with feeling vulnerable, and the fact that she didn’t want him to know she was.

It seemed to be an unofficial mark of their short relationship, this vulnerability. Her inability to speak because of it. Back at the airport, when he’d assumed she’d wanted him to carry her bag without asking, it had kept her from accusing him of taking control like the men in her past. It had also kept her from blurting out a thank you when he’d told her he believed she could do it herself, unlike the men in her past.

That difference was why she’d been surprised he’d given in so easily. Nevertheless, her entire body had braced for the argument she’d thought would come. They’d been inevitable before, with Brad. And he’d disguised control with gentlemanliness, which was part of why it had taken her years before she’d seen it. It wasn’t the only reason, but still, she was careful because of it. She didn’t take anything at face value any more. She couldn’t trust herself to.

The car jerked to the side as a bus took a narrow corner wide. A sound escaped from her lips.

‘We’re fine,’ he said curtly.

‘I didn’t say anything.’

‘You made a noise.’

‘It was involuntary.’

‘We’re still fine.’

‘So you say,’ she muttered, refusing to look out of the window on his side as the bus loomed over them.

‘You shouldn’t have come to Mykonos if you’re afraid of tight roads.’

‘I couldn’t get out of it.’

‘You tried?’ he asked, surprise making his voice lighter.

‘Everything. But Liam had an answer for every concern.’ She looked at him. ‘Some of that was because of you,’ she said accusingly.

‘I didn’t do anything.’

‘Aren’t you paying for the extravagant wedding?’

‘Well, yes, but—’

‘I couldn’t afford to come here by myself.’ She sighed at the idea. ‘It was a legitimate excuse. Then Emma’s magical unicorn of a brother swoops in and suddenly I have no reason to back out.’

Caleb made a strangled sound that would have been amusing had another bus not rounded the corner. She hissed out a breath.

‘You didn’t learn your lesson from the first bus?’ he asked darkly. ‘We’re fine. This is how people drive here.’

‘Doesn’t mean I have to like it.’

‘That’s true.’

He pulled back onto the road. She closed her eyes when it seemed as if he was still too close to the walls keeping them from falling off the edge of the cliff.

She had an intense wave of nostalgia for home. In Cape Town, South Africa, she had a choice about what kind of road she wanted to drive on. It wasn’t the standard, these narrow and inclined roads. No, the standard was wide open spaces with plenty of lanes to feel safe in.

‘Piper.’

She opened her eyes at the sound of her name. She hadn’t expected it. Hadn’t expected to like the way he said it either.

Piper.

She heeded the warning of her inner voice and steeled herself.

‘What?’

‘Worrying about traffic means you’re missing the view.’

‘I live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. I’ve seen views.’

‘Just look.’

She did, but reluctantly. Made sure he knew it, too, with a little exhalation and roll of her eyes. The sharp intake of breath she took once she looked out over the stone walls wasn’t contrived though. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Caleb about the Cape Town views, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate new ones.

This one was particularly stunning, the vast blue ocean stretching out, broken up by rocks and islands in the far distance. On the island itself, white buildings stretched up at different layers, marked by the blue shutters she associated with Greece though she’d never been there before. Interspersed were stretches of brown land, green trees, pink flowers. It was striking and, she had to admit, it distracted her from the drive.

When they went down a curving gravel road she held her breath. Moments later he stopped the car, and she exhaled.