Julia James - Greek Bachelors - Buying His Bride - Bought - The Greek's Innocent Virgin / His for a Price / Securing the Greek's Legacy

‘Our relationship is now exactly the way my father always wanted it to be so to leave now makes no sense. We’ve merely dropped the pretence. It actually makes the situation simpler, not more complicated.’

‘Not to me. We had—’ She broke off again and cleared her throat, trying not to mind that he was quite prepared to pretend that the sex had never happened. ‘What we did changes things.’

‘I don’t see how.’

‘You think I’m just leeching from you.’

He glanced briefly towards the roll of notes he’d so carelessly discarded. ‘Is that why you gave me the money?’

‘I’m giving you the money because I don’t want you to pay for me. I’ve never taken money from a man in my life.’

‘I haven’t offered you money.’

‘You’re paying for me to be here. That amounts to the same thing. You think I’m a gold-digger.’

Amusement flickered in his dark eyes. ‘Gold-diggers generally aren’t innocent virgins, agape mou. You’re obviously not quite as familiar with the job description as you think you are.’

She couldn’t think of a suitable reply, so she stayed silent.

He sighed. ‘You’re not leaving.’

She wished she could put the whole episode behind her as easily as he clearly had. ‘I have to.’ For so many reasons. Preserving her sanity was one, but so was maintaining her self respect.

‘Chantal.’ There was a decisive tone to his voice, like a judge who was summing up. ‘You claim that you came here because of my father—’

‘I did.’

‘Then why would you leave? My father’s needs are as great as they ever were. Greater, in fact. Since you arrived he has talked of nothing else. He is looking forward to joining us at dinner tonight. Nothing has changed.’

Chantal chewed her lip.

For him, nothing had changed. She wished she felt similarly indifferent. ‘Everything has changed.’ Her eyes moved to his and then skidded away. ‘We—’

‘Yes,’ he said softly, ‘we did. And given that you were a virgin I’m assuming that you aren’t protected by any form of contraception?’

Her heart stumbled.

Pregnant? It hadn’t even occurred to her that she might become pregnant. For a moment she forgot he was standing there as she considered that possibility. After her own childhood she’d never thought that she’d—

‘I’ll take your silence as a no,’ he drawled softly, and she was silent for a moment as she did some rapid calculations in her head.

‘It will be fine,’ she muttered finally, her cheeks blossoming with colour because this was one topic she wasn’t used to discussing with a man. ‘So you don’t need to think what you’re thinking.’

‘What am I thinking?’

‘That I’ve set the ultimate honey trap.’ She looked him in the eye, her expression fierce. ‘Even if I were pregnant, I wouldn’t take money from you.’

‘Let’s not argue about an issue which might never arise. The more pressing concern is what we do in the short term.’

‘You’re going to let me leave the island.’

His exasperated glance suggested that he wasn’t used to people defying him. ‘Whatever you may think of me, I’m not in the habit of indulging in careless sex regardless of the consequences.’

‘So why did you with me?’

His dark eyes fastened on hers. ‘I have been asking myself that same question for the past few hours. I’m sure the answer will come to me in time.’

She shrank as she imagined how much he must now be regretting his uncharacteristic lack of control. It was all too easy to imagine him calculating what that one awkward lapse was going to cost him in terms of money and adverse publicity. ‘Well, anyway, it doesn’t change the facts. I need to leave.’

‘My father was kind to you.’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you must stay. You owe him this favour.’

She stared at him helplessly. ‘That’s not fair—’

‘I don’t play fair, Chantal,’ he said softly. ‘I play to win.’

She closed her eyes and tried to find the steely streak she needed to refuse. ‘I can’t—’

‘His health is fragile. You have the ability to make him happy. Can you deprive him of that?’

She opened her eyes. ‘You’re totally ruthless, aren’t you?’

‘Focused.’

She turned her head away, feeling as though she were a leaf caught in a hurricane. The force of his personality was too powerful to resist.

‘I don’t see how my presence will really help him…’ But she was wavering and he sensed it, moving in for the kill like a lion spotting a wonded antelope.

‘Your presence could make all the difference to his recovery.’

She wanted to say no, but she couldn’t forget the kindness his father had shown her.

‘All right.’ The words were dragged from her lips. ‘I’ll stay—’

‘Of course you will.’ Clearly supremely confident of his own negotiation skills, he didn’t look surprised by her decision.

‘—But only if you let me pay you.’

‘I don’t understand your desire to be independent.’

‘It isn’t about independence—’ She broke off, realising that if she stuck by that claim then she’d have to explain herself. And she had no intention of doing that. He already knew far too much about her.

His dark eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t want your money.’

‘Take it,’ she said fiercely. ‘Or I’m going home right now.’

He studied her in silence, his expression unreadable. ‘All right. If it makes you happy.’ With economy of movement he reached for the roll of notes and slipped it into his pocket. ‘So, now that problem is solved you can unpack your suitcase. My father is waiting for us on the terrace. Why don’t you change and then join us?’

It was only after he’d strode from the room that Chantal realised they still hadn’t discussed what had happened in the pool.

‘I’m not that hungry,’ Costas protested as Chantal spooned a small helping of roasted peppers onto his plate.

‘They’re delicious,’ she enthused. ‘You just have to try them. Just a mouthful.’

‘Women.’ Costas sighed and picked up his fork. ‘They never let a man rest.’

‘You can rest later.’ She helped herself to a different dish, examining the contents closely. ‘What’s this?’

‘Fasoláda—kidney beans baked in the oven with vegetables, herbs and olive oil. It’s delicious. Try it.’

‘Only if you try some, too.’ Her smile engaging, she spooned a small amount onto his plate and watched while he ate. ‘Well?’

‘It’s good.’

Feeling like a spare part, Angelos watched as she cleverly coaxed his father to eat, selecting small quantities of healthy food for him to try.

Only when she was satisfied that he’d eaten something did she turn her attentions to her own plate. After several mouthfuls she smiled at his father. ‘You’re right, it is delicious. I’d swim through a shark-infested pond to eat this again.’

His father laughed with delight and reached for another dish. ‘If you think that’s good, then you should try this one—’

The two of them were like excited children and Angelos watched as his father flirted outrageously with Chantal.

Now that he knew she wasn’t Isabelle Ducat, he was noticing things he should have noticed before. Like the fact that she didn’t actually flirt. No simpering, no hair tossing, no lowered lashes. Nothing, in fact, that could be described as flirtatious. She just had an open, friendly attitude.

He remembered that night of the ball, and recalled that one of the things about her he’d found so attractive was that she’d been so different from everyone around her.

She’d shown a cheeky sense of humour, a playfulness that was quite different from flirting.