Page 50 of Hot Greek Summer

‘Stand up.’

She didn’t care for his tone but slithered to her feet all the same, straightening her strapless black jersey dress as she went.

‘Would you like me to walk in a straight line and recite the alphabet backwards too?’

‘Can you?’

She shot him a sarcastic smirk, and then focused on him properly for the first time since she’d realised he wasn’t Mr Tennyson. ‘You look like you’ve just come back from a club.’

‘I haven’t.’

God, was he always this uptight?

‘Can I ask you something, Angelo?’ she said. ‘Are you always this uptight?’

WTF? How did that happen? The words were inside her head, and then they were out of it and hanging in the air between them like little bombs.

He stared at her in complicated silence, then reached for the bottle of gin and took a good glug of it.

‘Better?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Is it?’ It was the first alcoholic drink she’d seen him take.

‘Not yet.’ He took a second gulp and then held the bottle out to study the label. ‘What is this stuff?’

Stella was torn between pride and the need to keep the island’s secret. ‘Gin.’

His eyes slowly swept the wall of bottles. ‘Are you expecting a war?’

She swallowed and shook her head, then held her arms out at shoulder height and started to take toe-to-heel steps, reciting the alphabet backwards with little regard for accuracy. By the time she reached A, she was glad to reach the back wall, laughing.

‘Very funny,’ he said.

‘Your turn,’ she said, leaning her back against the cool wall. ‘But do it in Greek.’

Had he not had several measures of gin, he’d probably have refused, but as it was he walked towards her with the bottle in his one good outstretched arm.

‘Omega,’ he said. ‘Psi.’

‘Christ,’ she said. She hadn’t heard him speak his mother tongue before, it was actually easy to forget his heritage because his English was so immaculate. Some of his words were familiar, others new and exotic, and all of them were an incredible turn-on.

‘Kappa,’ he said, more than halfway across the cellar.

Stella watched him, noticing the crinkles around his eyes as he concentrated on going backwards. The closer he came, the faster her heart beat.

‘Gamma,’ he said, his eyes nailed on hers. ‘Beta.’

He was right in front of her now.

‘Alpha,’ he almost growled, low and much too sexy.

‘God, you so are,’ she whispered. He was just about the manliest man she’d ever encountered, and right this very second his chiselled lips were slightly parted and his usually unreadable dark eyes were an open book.

‘You said I was irritating this morning,’ she said.

‘You are. Incredibly irritating and incredibly ravishing.’ His hand landed on the wall beside her head.

‘And you’re obnoxious and drop dead alpha frickin’ gorgeous,’ she said, pulling him closer by his tie until his body pressed hot and oh-so-male against hers. He kissed her, the sort of kiss that went from polite to filthy in ten seconds flat and left them both gasping for more.

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