Stavros swallowed down the bitter knot that rose in his throat. He shouldn’t feel this blood-hot craving for another woman. It made a mockery of his plans, his self-control, his very honour.
Seeing Tessa Marlowe in those ragged shorts and ill-fitting top should have emphasised how little they had in common. How distant she was from his ideal female: voluptuous, perfectly groomed and easy on the ego.
Yet the sight of her, in wet clothes that clung like a second skin, dried his mouth and froze his body. The too-tight top emphasised the surprisingly lush curves of her breasts. Her streamlined body shouted a feminine allure he was powerless to resist. Even the thick rope of dark hair, sliding over her back as she dried herself, mesmerised him.
He itched to reach for her, shape her delicate curves, caress those high, pouting breasts that would be a perfect fit for his hands, mould her tiny waist to his touch.
After just a few days of decent food there was a change in her. A rounding-out of that sleek body and a new spark of vitality. Both served only to highlight her allure. And his guilty attraction.
Stavros clenched his hands. Only this morning Angela had left for northern Greece and family commitments. He’d stayed behind to untangle this marriage. Yet here he was, rooted to the spot, mind atrophied by the rhythmic swipe of lush towelling over Tessa Marlowe’s bare legs.
What sort of man did that make him?
Tessa wrapped the thick, oversized beach towel around her trembling body. She was chilled to the bone, scared by her reaction to Stavros Denakis.
She was right to be wary, right not to trust him. But why couldn’t her brain override her body’s pathetic yearning? He despised her, he was planning to marry a gorgeous sophisticate who had to be a complete polar opposite to herself. Yet still she couldn’t squash that flicker of excitement whenever she felt his eyes on her.
No, not a flicker. A blaze of self-destructive passion—for what she could never have and should never want.
For too long she’d fantasised about this man, building him into a hero, a Prince Charming, because she needed to believe in something, someone who could comfort her when the fear crowded close and sleep was impossible.
Now she couldn’t shake herself of that fantasy or her longing. Yet she had to.
She straightened her spine and turned to face him.
His starkly handsome face was more than grim. Tighter, harder than she’d ever seen it. As if he’d received the worst possible news.
As if he blamed her for it.
A frisson of fear danced down her spine and she locked her knees against the impulse to retreat.
‘We need to talk.’ His low, rumbling voice made the hairs stand up on her neck. Or maybe it was the iron glint of his narrowed eyes. She looked down to his hands, bulging fists, and her heart dived. He was a man on the edge.
Right now she didn’t have the reserves of strength to face the full blast of his fury. The fact that she didn’t deserve it would be no protection from his wrath.
‘I didn’t think you were interested in talking,’ she said quietly, with only a trace of unsteadiness. ‘You don’t believe anything I say.’
Tessa watched the muscles in his jaw bunch as he clenched his teeth. The pulse under his dark gold skin beat frenetically. His blood pressure must be sky-high.
‘You’re right. I thought your story was a ploy to get my sympathy.’
Sympathy? That was rich. He’d treated her like a leper ever since he’d seen her. But now something was different.
‘So what’s changed your mind?’ For something had, she could see it in his eyes.
‘My staff tracked your movements, right back to your first contact with the Australian embassy a couple of weeks ago.’ He paused to drag in a deep breath that made his massive chest heave. ‘There’s no trace of you living anywhere but right where I…left you.’
Of course. He’d believe his staff, but not her. What had she expected? That he’d suddenly realised he was wrong about her? Seen past his prejudices?
As if!
‘So now you know.’ She shrugged in an effort to look insouciant.
Silence as his gaze held hers and the tension thickened between them.
‘It’s my fault.’ His words were abrupt, so unexpected that she blinked, wondering if she’d heard him right.
‘I should have protected you better. There was another route to the airstrip. We could have taken that.’
Tessa stared, her brain whirring in shock as she digested his words. He blamed himself for the explosion that had ripped their vehicle apart?
No one could have anticipated that!
A muscle in his jaw worked and tension hummed from his big frame, drawing her nerves tight in response.
‘You couldn’t have known about the mortars.’