The judging, dominating Stavros, she could hate. This insightful, approachable Stavros...she didn’t stand a chance.
Spending a few days with Giannis and amassing a lifetime of memories was one thing. But tangling with Stavros, who would demand everything she had to give and more, who would bare her body and soul...she couldn’t risk the pain of knowing him and then losing him.
“What,” she finally managed.
“I will ask you some questions before the event. If I get a truthful answer, I will introduce you to Helene.”
“Anything else I can do instead?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to snatch them back.
He only stared at her with that intensity again. “If you won’t tell me the truth, then how about a kiss?”
“You’ve already proved that I...I can’t resist you. There is no reason for you to kiss me anymore.”
He pushed a stray tendril of hair back from her forehead. And she stood very still in the wake of sensations that small touch aroused. “There is a reason.”
“What?”
“That I wish to. It is only when I kiss you that I know you, Leah.”
Warmth pooled in her belly, every word out of his sensuous mouth a caress and a promise. “What happened to that phenomenal willpower of yours that had the rest of us quaking in our boots?”
Laughter—hearty, gorgeous, and spine-tingling, enveloped her. “In this case, I have decided not to employ it.
“You can see Helene, Leah, but you shall have to give me your truths or your kisses. The choice is yours.”
How very neatly he had trapped her, how very stupid she had been in challenging fate when she had said Stavros knew nothing but duty. His words now were honeyed, so damn seductive that her heart thudded. “What if I asked you questions?”
“But I have never lied to you. However, if you ask me a question and I do not tell the truth, you are free to kiss me, as much as you want to.”
“Thanks but no thanks,” Leah managed to say, past the whooshing of her heart.
Turning away from him, she ran back to the sanctuary of her workroom, wondering what had suddenly unleashed this facet of Stavros.
Her wedding gown wasn’t done, but she had three other dresses she could take with her for tomorrow. Swiftly, she removed the dresses from their plastic bags and looked them over for anything to fix.
Countless hours later, she wrapped them back in the hanging bags and zipped them up.
Her heart thudded as she pulled another dress, a dress she had made for herself almost a year ago. The design had literally begged to be borne onto paper, and she had finished it in less than a week.
It was simply cut yet daring, a dress that would say all the right things about its designer. In the end, she decided to brave it out and wear it tomorrow night.
Brave because tomorrow night was going to be dangerous in so many ways that she wanted to turn the time back to a couple of months ago when it had been just her and the apartment and her blistering hatred of him...
Whatever truth he was hunting, it wouldn’t be anything she’d want to tell. Which left her to face his kisses...
Running a comb through her messy hair, Leah stilled. A glimmering energy in her gaze, her pulse beating with a frenzied clamor, she looked like a stranger.
She looked almost happy.
CHAPTER TEN
HE WAS GOING to lose in his own game, Stavros decided ruefully as Leah walked down the steps of the house the next evening.
A game the likes of which he had never before thought of.
He was still amazed at how easily Leah made him laugh, tease, even think of absurd scenarios just for a chance to touch her.
Thin, almost flimsy straps at her shoulders held up the black dress. The hem of the dress, startlingly white, ended high above her knees in the front but fell to her ankles at the back.
Animal-print pumps showed toned calves when she walked down the steps.
All in all, the dress was simply elegant. Or so he thought until she moved, waiting against his Maserati.
A flash of creamy thigh greeted his greedy gaze. The clinging material outlined her braless breasts when she took another step. A sudden breeze highlighted the tips of her nipples as she neared him.
Pure, liquid lust hit him hard, and every muscle in his body tightened, readying for pleasure.