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In the Greek's Bed: The Greek Tycoon's Wife / The Greek Millionaire's Marriage / The Greek Surgeon
In the Greek's Bed: The Greek Tycoon's Wife / The Greek Millionaire's Marriage / The Greek Surgeon
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In the Greek's Bed: The Greek Tycoon's Wife / The Greek Millionaire's Marriage / The Greek Surgeon

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‘I must have been thinking out loud…’

His lips quivered faintly. ‘But not talking to yourself.’

His mockery made her want to hit him, which was not a civilised response, but somehow civilised was hard to achieve around Nikos.

‘Sorry if it disturbed you. Goodnight?’ she added with more hope than expectation of him taking the hint. He was not big on taking hints.

‘You thought I was asleep, perhaps?’

A perfectly innocent question, but something about the gleam in his slightly narrowed eyes made Katie suspect some sort of trap in his seemingly innocuous words.

Nikos had found that many women with expertly applied make-up were almost unrecognisable when seen without it; this was not the case with Katerina. A searching scrutiny of her freshly scrubbed features had revealed a complexion that was flawless, her full, wide lips were a delightful deep pink, the only flaw in fact was the faint bruised bluish shadows beneath her wide-spaced, incredibly blue eyes. Did she not sleep enough? The thought of what she did when she should be sleeping brought a harsh, uncompromising frown to his brow.

‘Asleep?’ she repeated, wary and resentful of the stern look of disapproval he was giving her. ‘I hadn’t really thought about it.’

‘Then I really can’t account for it.’

‘Account for what?’

Still frowning, Katie turned, her eyes following the direction the sharp tilt of his dark head indicated. She almost groaned out loud when she saw what he was showing her. The large gilt-framed mirror above the queen-sized bed was clearly visible from the other room through the door. It must have given him a perfect view of her approaching the door.

‘You looked as if you were trying not to disturb anyone, like a little mouse.’

Katie, recalling the furtive way she’d crept across the room, felt a hot tide of mortification wash over her skin.

‘One would be excused,’ he continued, ‘for thinking you didn’t want me to hear you.’

Katie bit her lip; the rat was enjoying her discomfort, she could see it in his eyes. Just so long as he doesn’t find mine equally revealing. The thought sent a shudder slithering down her spine. She swallowed.

‘I said you wouldn’t know I was here,’ she reminded him.

‘So you did. You are so considerate,’ he murmured with palpable insincerity. He nudged the door wider with his shoulder and his features hardened. ‘Except when you let me think you’ve passed out in the bath.’

She was startled by the unexpected comment and her eyes flew to his face. ‘You didn’t think that.’ Her scornful smile faded as their eyes locked, her own widened. ‘Did you? But I don’t faint…’

A swift mental review of the events in question left her uneasily conscious that her refusal to respond to his calls just might have been interpreted that way by someone who was totally over-cautious.

‘It was not such a great leap to make. Consider,’ he suggested. ‘You are obviously totally exhausted, you have had a traumatic experience…and of course I did not have that one vital piece of information which would have made me realise that my fears were groundless—you don’t faint,’ he observed with heavy sarcasm.

Katie tossed her head back and gave a combative smile, she’d show him that a totally exhausted—which in her book translated as ‘you look like hell’—person was not going to meekly accept his lectures.

‘Who do you think you are?’

‘Your husband.’

For a moment Katie thought he really could read her mind until common sense intervened and she reasoned that she must have spoken out loud.

‘I take it the traumatic experience you are referring to is you showing up?’ Her defiant shrug had a hint of desperation about it; though pitting her wits against Nikos was stimulating in a sticking-your-finger-in-an-electric-socket sort of way, it was also deeply exhausting and Katie felt she was losing momentum. Not to mention her mind.

The problem was she wasn’t a naturally aggressive person, normally, and she was extremely hampered by the fact she knew she was behaving extremely badly. Nikos, on the other hand, obviously lacked any form of self-awareness; the man had autocratic leanings, which unless someone took him in hand soon would turn him into a fully fledged despot before long.

Nikos released a strangled expletive. ‘It had not occurred to me,’ he revealed coldly, ‘that you would be stupid enough to lock the door.’

If he carries on talking to me as if I’m a silly child caught in misdemeanour I’ll… She stopped mid furious thought as her mind produced an image to match his words.

‘You mean if it hadn’t been locked you’d have come barging in?’ she yelped as a remarkably vivid image of Nikos exploding into the bathroom danced across her vision. For some reason her imagination had taken some poetic licence when it came to what he was wearing—very little! And as for having him leap energetically into the bath with her—that was a totally unnecessary sequel!

‘If you were ill or in need of assistance, yes, I would have, but if you mean do I get my thrills from entering bathrooms uninvited? No, I do not.’ Though his facial expression did not alter his abrupt shift of mood was evident in the smouldering gaze that rested on her face. ‘If I get invited in…’ he gave an expressive shrug ‘…that changes things.’

‘The picture that conjures up makes me queasy.’ For all the wrong reasons, she thought. Jealousy was all she needed!

‘I didn’t realise that you had such prudish tendencies. Though I should have guessed when you said you and Tom do not talk about sex.’

‘I am not a prude,’ she denied angrily. Aware that her reaction was a bit OTT, she moderated her voice but couldn’t prevent her distaste creeping in. ‘I just think what goes on between a man and woman in private should remain that way and should not become the subject of crude jokes.’

‘Well, at least you recognise it was a joke. Perhaps some food will help you gain some sense of proportion?’

If he wanted plain talking she’d show him she could do that too! ‘And for your information we don’t talk about sex, we do it!’ She smiled triumphantly as she flaunted her non-existent sex life under his superior nose.

For a moment Nikos looked startled, then a deep laugh was wrenched from the depths of his throat. ‘Thank you for sharing that with me,’ he said solemnly.

Katie had never felt so humiliated in her life. She didn’t know how she’d allowed herself to be goaded into making such a childish retort.

‘Why shouldn’t I have a healthy sex life? What’s so funny about that?’ she demanded.

‘You talk about sex with the same swaggering bravado as a boy who has not yet lost his virginity.’

‘I am not a boy.’

‘Nor a v—’

‘You know, I think I am a little hungry,’ she cut in brightly.

This attempt to change the subject was so blatant that Nikos smiled. His smile guttered as an incredible thought occurred to him. He shook his head, dismissing it almost instantly; it was amazing what crazy ideas a man could get into his head when he hadn’t eaten or slept.

Being an honest man, he couldn’t be totally sure if his diminished mental acuity didn’t lie at the door of a quite different basic need that was not being met. A basic need that he was conscious of every time he looked at his friend’s lover…his own wife.

Nikos frowned. He had all the complications and surprises he needed in his business life; he made sure his personal life was unstressed and uncomplicated. It seemed if he wanted a return to that desirable status quo it would be necessary to remove Katerina Forsythe from his life as soon as possible. Which was the reason he’d come here, but somehow in between rescuing cats from burning buildings and being hospitalised he had been losing track of that detail.

‘Fortunately I ordered enough for two in case you changed your mind.’

Katie looked beyond him and saw the glass-topped table set with a tempting array of light refreshments. Her stomach growled softly, reminding her of how little she’d eaten during the past twenty-four hours.

‘Oh…’ She gave a last wistful look at the spread. ‘Actually I think I’m fine after all,’ she explained unconvincingly.

‘This sudden loss of appetite—is it a case of…cutting off your nose to spite your face? Have I got that right?’ he asked innocently.

‘Don’t be cute!’ she accused. ‘Your English is a damned sight better than mine and we both know it,’ she growled.

‘Nobody has ever called me cute before. I’m touched.’

She found she couldn’t carry on acting as though she were unaware of the malicious mockery in his lean face. ‘So must I be…in the head!’ She banged a hand against the side of the area in question. ‘Just being here makes me certifiable.’ Her expansive gesture took in the luxurious surroundings.

‘Are you crying?’

Katie heard the wary quiver in his deep voice and remembered he didn’t like women’s tears.

‘No, but it would serve you right if I was,’ she told him, sniffing loudly.

Nikos’s expression softened; she talked so tough but looked so vulnerable. The combination affected him strongly.

‘It’s true I don’t like women’s tears, but if anyone has reason to weep it is you. You have been very brave…but now you are tired and hungry. Come and eat. Let’s call a truce.’

Though she was highly sceptical of his offer of a truce, quite irrationally his unexpected kindness cut through Katie’s defences where all his clever taunts had not.

‘What’s on the sandwiches?’ If she persisted in being stubborn, he might jump to the totally wrong conclusion—namely that she was scared to be in the same room as him!

Nikos had the good sense not to act as if he had won. ‘Smoked salmon and cream cheese, beef and horseradish and cucumber?’

Katie found it hard not to drool. ‘I am hungry.’ As if to back up her words her stomach chose that moment to growl again—this time extremely loudly. Her glare dared him to laugh. ‘And I hate to see good food go to waste.’

‘Indeed,’ he agreed, maintaining his gravity. ‘Especially just to prove a point.’

‘So much for a truce. I knew you couldn’t do it!’ she crowed.

‘It doesn’t start until we start eating.’

‘Well, if you’re going to make the rules up as we go along…’

‘I surrender, you win,’ he conceded, holding up his hands in mock submission.

‘I’m not the one scoring points, I’m hungry.’

Nikos stepped aside to let her pass. ‘So am I,’ he murmured.

Katie took his enigmatic words at face value—she wasn’t going somewhere that anybody with an ounce of sense would fear to tread!

Nikos led her to a long cream sofa piled high with plump cushions.

‘Elevate your foot,’ he suggested, pushing the cushions into a pile one end.

She had sat down at the opposite end before the extent of his inside knowledge struck her. ‘How did you know I’m supposed to?’

Nikos slid a hand under her knees and neatly swivelled her round. ‘I asked the doctor,’ he divulged, placing her feet on the pile of cushions.

Katie’s toes curled; she was astounded and indignant. ‘And he told you?’ So much for patient confidentiality.

‘You are my wife.’

‘Will you stop saying that?’ she begged.

‘Even if I do it will not change anything. I doubt the doctor saw any reason not to tell me. Now where is this bandage?’

‘In my pocket.’

‘It should be on your foot.’

‘Well, I couldn’t get it on, it’s too tight. I tried.’

He held out his hand. ‘Let me.’

Katie shook her head. ‘Don’t be silly.’ She scooted her feet up the sofa and tucked them protectively under the hem of her robe.

A nerve began to pulse in his lean cheek. ‘My touch offends you?’

‘Don’t be silly, of course not!’ she scoffed.

Telling him what his touch actually did was naturally not an option.

‘You are hyperventilating.’

‘I am not and there really is no need for a bandage; my ankle feels perfectly fine after the bath.’ Her voice rose to a shrill squeak in her frantic efforts to convince him.

‘No, it is not, I saw you limping.’

Katie closed her eyes in frustration. ‘Go on, have it your way,’ she gritted, untucking her leg and stretching it out stiff-kneed.

She could hardly tell him the idea of him placing his hands on her skin for any length of time made her hot with excitement and cold with dread. What if she got turned on? Who was she kidding? There was no if about it! Hell, he only had to look at her and she felt emotionally mugged. What if when he touched her she did or said something really stupid?

Nikos silently looked at the ankle extended towards him but he made no attempt to touch it or her. The moment stretched on…

He remained motionless so long the muscles in her thigh started to quiver. The silence between them was heavy with tension; finally Katie could bear it no longer.

‘Are you going to do this or not?’ she demanded peevishly. Not would be good.

Nikos rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing the sinewy strength of his forearms. Katie was engulfed by a wave of longing that filled her with despair.

‘Then for goodness’ sake get it over and done with!’ she snapped.

When he did take her ankle between his big hands, they felt cool and capable. His attitude as he gently examined the tender bruised area was detached but sympathetic.

‘It is badly swollen and the bruising is coming out.’ His dark brows met in a frowning line as he examined her injury with strong, sensitive fingers. ‘It looks extremely painful.’

It was, but this wasn’t the reason Katie evaded his questioning glance. When she looked at him she saw his fingers touching, stroking areas on her body other than her ankle. The dangerous fantasy fuelled the pulse of inappropriate excitement that throbbed through her.

She took out her self-disgust on her innocent ankle. ‘You didn’t mention ugly,’ she told him with a disconsolate sniff. With a frown she compared the injured ankle with her sound one; it was at least three times the size.

‘I’m sure Tom will still love you if you had ankles as thick as tree trunks.’