CATHERINE GEORGE - Eligible Greeks - Tycoon's Revenge - Proud Greek, Ruthless Revenge / The Power of the Legendary Greek / The Greek Millionaire's Mistress

‘And now you are tired. Go to sleep, agape,’ he bade her softly, when she opened her mouth to deny it. Her lashes were already drifting down, and Thanos was shaken by the unexpected surge of protectiveness that swept through him as he watched her fall asleep.

TAHLIA was awoken by the bright sunlight filtering through the blinds. She turned her head and found that she was alone, the faint indentation on the pillow beside her the only indication that Thanos had slept in the bed last night. That and the slight tenderness of her breasts, the ache of muscles never previously used…

She blushed as she recalled in vivid detail the passion they had shared. Sex with Thanos had been a revelation, and in all honesty she did not regret that he was her first lover. The incredible sensuality of their lovemaking was proof that it was possible to enjoy physical intimacy without emotional involvement—because of course her emotions were not involved, she assured herself. Sexual chemistry was a powerful force and she had been unable to resist its pull. Yet she was conscious of a dull ache around her heart that had nothing to do with the pleasurable excesses of the previous night.

The most important thing was that Carlton House was safe and her parents would be able to spend their retirement free from financial worries, she told herself firmly as she threw back the sheets and headed for the en suite bathroom. It was ridiculous to wonder what would have happened if she and Thanos had simply been two strangers who had met one evening and been instantly attracted to one another. Perhaps he would have invited her out to dinner or the theatre? Would they have gone the conventional route of dating for a while before their relationship progressed to the bedroom?

It would not have been long before their mutual sexual awareness had exploded into passion, she thought with a rueful smile. But she wished they’d had the chance to get to know one another, to become friends before they became lovers. Instead their relationship was a business arrangement, and although Thanos no longer seemed to despise her, there was no escaping the fact that he was paying for her to share his bed.

The sun was already hot when she stepped onto the terrace, and she was glad of the shade cast by the large parasol as she sat down to breakfast. A note propped up against the coffee pot informed her that Thanos would be in meetings until late afternoon, and, recalling his scathing comments about her lack of clothes, she decided to go shopping in Mykonos Town.

‘Yes, there is a bus,’ the maid told her, looking puzzled when Tahlia asked her for directions to the town. ‘But Mr Savakis would not expect you to take a bus. His chauffeur will drive you wherever you want to go.’

‘The bus will be fine,’ Tahlia replied cheerfully. She could not rationalise why she did not want to make use of Thanos’s personal staff. It was simply important that she retained her independence as much as possible.

Using public transport also meant that she had an excellent tour of the island, she discovered an hour later, as the bus sped along the road. She stared at the rocky hilltops where goats were grazing, and then turned her head to admire the stunning view of the sea. On the horizon she could see the famous windmills, standing like sentinels on the hills above the port, and as the bus wound down into the town centre she was entranced by the myriad square white, flat-roofed houses, jumbled together in impossibly narrow streets.

Even this early in the season the town was bustling with tourists who strolled along the rows of souvenir shops and sat beneath brightly coloured parasols outside the cafés and tavernas. Mykonos was one of the most cosmopolitan of the Greek Islands, and unfortunately this was reflected in the price tags inside the fashionable boutiques. Determined not to allow Thanos to buy her clothes, Tahlia spent the last of her savings, earmarked to pay her electricity bill, on two evening dresses which she did not particularly like but were the cheapest she could find.

She spent another enjoyable hour window-shopping, had lunch in a charming little restaurant in an area of the town called Little Venice, where the buildings were so close to the sea that the balconies overhung the water, and finally caught the bus back to the Artemis, feeling hot and weary, but satisfied that she had two suitable outfits to replace the blouse that Thanos had ruined.

She was surprised to see him standing by the French doors when she walked into the suite, and his grim expression as he swung round to face her made Tahlia’s heart sink.

‘Where have you been for the past five hours?’ he queried tersely. ‘The maid said you went out at eleven this morning,’ he added, when Tahlia frowned and checked her watch.

‘I can’t believe I was out for so long. I went into the town, and there was so much to see. Time just flew,’ she said defensively.

‘Particularly as you travelled by bus,’Thanos said disapprovingly. ‘The maid told me she had explained to you that I have assigned a driver to act as your personal chauffeur.Yianis would have given you a tour of the island—and carried your shopping,’ he added, his eyes dropping to the bags she was holding. ‘I was beginning to worry that something had happened to you,’he said tensely. ‘You are a stranger to Mykonos, and some of the bars are not good places for you to go on your own.’

Tahlia’s temper prickled at the note of censure in his voice. ‘I’m a big girl now, and I can take care of myself.’

Did she have any idea how young she looked, with her face bare of make-up and her hair caught up in a ponytail? Thanos mused. He could imagine the interest she had aroused among the male population of Mykonos in her faded denim shorts and a white strap top, beneath which she was clearly not wearing a bra, and he felt a caveman instinct to lock her away in the highest tower.

‘During my student days I spent two summers backpacking around Europe. I know the kind of seedy places to avoid. I worked in many of them,’ she admitted ruefully.

‘Doing what?’ Thanos asked curiously.

‘Waitressing, mainly—although I did try a brief stint cooking pancakes in a crêperie in Spain. Until I set light to the kitchen and the manager sacked me,’ Tahlia told him cheerfully. ‘I was better at bar-work, or cleaning. Often I worked seventy hours a week, and saved the money I earned to see me through my next term at university.’

Thanos frowned. ‘Didn’t your parents support you financially while you were studying?’

‘They couldn’t afford to. Carlton House suffered serious structural damage in a storm a few years ago, and the cost of the repairs was astronomical. But I was happy to pay my own way. I never expected hand-outs.’

The Tahlia he was getting to know was nothing like the image fostered in the tabloids of a spoilt party-girl, Thanos brooded, trying to picture her waiting on tables. He remembered the exhaustion of working ridiculously long hours as a labourer, struggling to earn enough to pay the bills and feed and clothe Melina. Memories of those years of poverty were the reason why he now made regular donations to charities supporting the under-privileged, and they had made him appreciate all that he had. Until now he had never met any woman, apart from his sister, who respected the value of money.

‘But presumably your parents paid for your flat? You could not have afforded to buy a property in such an affluent area of London on the money you earned as a waitress.’

‘Oh, the flat isn’t mine, it belongs to George. My aunt Georgina,’ Tahlia explained hastily, when Thanos’s brows drew together. ‘I moved in with her after I left university. She’s elderly, and had had several falls. I wanted to take care of her, but sadly she developed dementia and it got to the point where I was terrified of leaving her to go to work because she had so many accidents. After she left a plastic jug on the electric hotplate and the kitchen caught fire my parents and I decided that it would be better for her to move into a residential home where she could have full-time care. I visit her twice a week—’ Tahlia broke off at the realisation that she would be unable to visit her aunt for the next month. ‘I don’t suppose she’ll miss me,’ she said quietly. ‘She doesn’t recognise me any more.’