Pretending with the Greek Billionaire (2 page)

“How did you even get in? Climb the gate?”

Her mouth dropped open with a gasp of outrage. “Of course not! I would never. The gate was open.”

Luca shot a glance to Joseph, his anger spiking. It was hard enough keeping the paparazzi and curious tourists at bay. The last thing he needed was for his gates to be opened wide and welcoming them in.

Joseph frowned. “I will check on it, sir.”

Luca glanced back at the girls, his frown deepening. He didn’t like being around children. It wasn’t that he disliked them especially. They were just so small, and messy, and noisy.
And destructive
, he thought, looking at the one who’d torn up his flowerbeds.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, unnerved a bit by all the feminine eyes staring at him. The bright, blue pair belonging to the crazy mother hen of the group in particular. “If you all have finished with your swimming for the afternoon, perhaps you could…”

Before he could finish, the buzzing noise he’d heard faintly in the background grew to a roar.

“What the fu—”

“Mr. Vasilakis, watch your language, please!”

Luca stared down at Constance in astonishment. Had she really just chastised him for swearing, in his own home, where she was trespassing? His lips cracked into a grin, despite himself. It had been a long time since anyone had surprised him.

The roar grew louder as a helicopter rose from behind the rock hills his house nestled against, close enough the blades sent gusts of wind tearing through the backyard. The girls all shrieked, some scattering toward the house, the others tackling Miss McMurty’s legs. Knocked off balance, she threw out her arms and he reached to catch her. She landed neatly in his embrace, clutching at his biceps for support.

The helicopter flew out of sight, but Luca knew they’d circle back around in a minute. Damned paparazzi. They weren’t supposed to get that close. He couldn’t get rid of them, though he supposed he was partly to blame, since he always managed to give them something good to report. You’d think they had enough pictures of him joyriding through town or at a restaurant with some woman. Partying with people he had no business being with, whose only goal in life was to get in the papers no matter what stupid thing they had to do to accomplish it. He let himself get pulled along a few too many times. Some of his finest moments, right there. Just at that moment, however, he was having a hard time thinking about anything but the woman in his grasp.

She fit against him perfectly, like she’d been made especially for him. She gazed up at him, her breath coming in sharp little gasps. Her shirt was still damp and the water had made the fabric tantalizingly see-through, just enough that he could make out the outlines of a spectacular pair of firm, round breasts. The faint scent of cherry blossom rose up to meet him. God, she smelled good.

Her lips parted and he leaned closer. She didn’t back away, her eyes riveted to his mouth. Her breathing kicked up a notch and she lifted her face ever so slightly. Well then…

Luca’s head dipped down and she jerked back just before he made contact.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You seemed like you were expecting a little something extra,” he said, not letting her go. “I thought I’d indulge you. Wouldn’t want to be a bad host, after all.”

He leaned toward her again but she slapped a hand against his chest. “The children will see!”

Luca grinned. His body blocked her from the kids’ view. She should be a lot more worried about the damn helicopter that was probably on its way back.

“Excuse me,” she said, but before she could say anything more, the helicopter circled back around, its roaring motor shattering whatever strange moment they’d had. The wind from the blades kicked up sand, dirt, and debris and he pressed Constance’s face against his neck to protect her face from the flying particles. He held her close and pressed his lips to her ear so she could hear him.

“Let’s get inside!”

Constance nodded and pushed away from him but he kept his arm around her waist, guiding her toward the house. The helicopter disappeared over the roof, but wouldn’t be out of sight long.

“Wait!” she said. “We’re missing one.”

Luca turned around just in time to see the little one who’d torn up his flowers topple into the deep end of the pool. He reached the pool in three strides, his heart in his throat, and jumped in, holding onto the side with one arm while snagging the little girl with the other. She came up sputtering. He hauled her into his chest and heaved them both out of the pool. Constance was there, arms out, but the child wouldn’t let go of his neck. The helicopter loomed again, the photographer leaning out the open door with his camera. Luca swore under his breath and turned back to the house. He’d pry the child off his neck inside, away from the vultures.

Joseph helped herd all the kids inside, closing the doors and drawing the drapes the moment they were all safely in.

The little one in Luca’s arms coughed and he awkwardly patted her on the back. “Water is for swimming in and drinking, not breathing. Let’s try to keep it out of our lungs next time, hmm? Might be best to stick to the shallow end for now, eh
paidi mou
?” he said, the term of endearment slipping from his lips.

My child
…just like his mother used to call him when he’d done something silly or naughty. He hadn’t thought of it in years. He shifted uncomfortably and pulled the girl away from his neck.

He handed her over to Constance, who stood by with a towel that Joe must have grabbed for her.

She nodded up at him with wide eyes while Constance dried her off.

“Thank you,” she said, hugging the child close. If you hadn’t been there…”

He frowned and waved off her thanks, his discomfort growing. Having both of them staring up at him was more scrutiny than he wanted to deal with just then. “Don’t worry about it.”

“We need to go,” Constance said. “We can’t be here with…that,” she said waving toward the sound of the retreating helicopter. “I’m sorry about trespassing and…out there. I mean that we almost…that I…” Her fingers fluttered to her lips and Luca’s stretched into a slow smile, his momentary agitation fading with the memory of his near brush with her lips. She flushed a red nearly as deep as her hair. “You nearly…that was…”

“Pleasant?”

“Unexpected.”

“Pleasurable.”

Constance stiffened. “Unwelcome.”

“Unlikely,” Luca said with smug confidence.

Constance’s mouth dropped open and it was all Luca could do not to haul her back into his arms and show her how much she would have enjoyed it. He chuckled and she glared at him.

Well, if nothing else, this little escapade had given him the diversion he’d desperately needed after seeing his father, even if it probably made things worse. That alone would have bought the intriguing Constance some mercy from him. The tantalizing near taste of her lips went a great deal farther.

“Joseph, please escort Miss McMurty and her charges home.”

“Oh please,” she said, “that’s not necessary at all.”

“I insist,” Luca said.

She opened her mouth, probably to argue again, but the faint sound of the helicopter still overhead must have changed her mind.

“All right then.” She turned to Joseph. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, miss,” he said with a little bow. “Follow me.”

She gathered everyone up and started to follow Joe out to the garage where Luca had several vehicles of varying sizes waiting for his use.

“Until next time, Miss McMurty.”

She turned back toward him, her eyes flashing blue fire.

“Goodbye, Mr. Vasilakis.”

Luca found himself smiling as she disappeared around the corner.

What the hell had just happened?

Chapter Two

Constance held the phone to her ear with a trembling hand. Although with the way her director, the Mother Superior of the tiny convent on Mykonos and the head of the Emergency Family Aid group on the island, was screeching she probably could have left the phone across the room and heard her fine. With her other hand, she scrolled through the pictures that had been filling the internet for the last several hours.

Her. Surrounded by the kids. In Luca’s arms. It didn’t matter that nothing had happened. That he had only been shielding her from the dirt the helicopter had kicked up. It looked as if they were eating each other’s faces.

Pleasurable
? That deep, smug voice of Luca’s replayed over and over through her head.

Yes, damn him. It had been pleasurable. Being pressed against that rock-hard body had almost been enough to make her forget where she was, forget the girls were there, forget there was a helicopter full of bloodthirsty paparazzi with long-range lenses. Forget everything but the warm strength of those arms around her. Those insanely full, soft lips mere millimeters from caressing hers. His tightly corded muscles bunching beneath her fingers. The soft and rough mixture of tanned olive skin with its oh-so-trendy stubble rubbing across her face.

Pleasurable enough to nearly make her forget herself. Lose control. And now it didn’t matter that she hadn’t given in. It looked bad enough. The fact she was even on his property would be enough to put her position in jeopardy. Risk the only thing in life she really loved. Her kids.

She’d wanted to be part of the Emergency Family Aid program since she’d first come to Greece and heard about it. She already had a degree in social work, and even though it was through an American university, it had given her a leg up. Finishing the training the program required so she could be a House Mother for a group of children hadn’t taken long. She’d been with her six girls for over a year. Their placement with her was meant to be permanent, and if she lost them because of one stupid mistake, she’d never forgive herself.

She sucked back a renegade sob and tried to focus on the fury coming from the phone. She’d already had one scathing phone call from her father. That’s just what every girl wants, to explain to Daddy why it looks like she’s rounding second base with the resident Casanova with six kids looking on. She had a nice, traumatic brunch to look forward to the next day as well. Apparently she’d screwed up severely enough he felt the need to cancel all his appointments and jet right over to check on things in person. Just lovely.

And now she got to go round two with her director, a nun, about the so-called steamy pictures all over the internet.

“Yes, Reverend Mother, I understand. But it’s not what it looks like…I mean it sort of is but…we were there…but the rest…I didn’t…”

She stopped, knowing she was only making it worse. She might be able to explain why she was in the man’s backyard, but the shots of her locked in his embrace were a little more difficult. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t been kissing him. Just the appearance of wrongdoing was enough. And she
had
been trespassing on private property with her children. Unavoidable as it had been, it was still illegal.

The Reverend Mother wrapped up her chew-out and clicked off. Constance was to report to her office the next morning for a formal meeting with the Reverend Mother, Ms. Castellanos, the head of their particular group of homes, and Mrs. Ballas, the woman who worked with Constance and helped her care for the girls. They were to discuss her actions and possible removal as a House Mother.

Constance sank into a chair. She knew the second she’d laid eyes on the glowering Greek god that he was trouble. She wished she could rewind time and listen to her gut. It had never failed her and going against it bit her in the butt every time, but what else could she do? She couldn’t have left Elena wandering about on his property anymore than she could have left the other children on their own while she went to fetch her. Of course, had that been the whole of it, this wouldn’t be an issue right now. It was her conduct with the most notorious playboy bachelor in the Mediterranean, in front of the girls, that was the issue, and rightly so. She should have shoved away from him the moment he’d gotten near her. Maybe she deserved to lose them.

The only good thing from all this was that Luca wasn’t pressing charges for trespassing. He was infamous for a lot of things, not the least of which was being lethal when it came to keeping his private property private. He did what he could to keep his property off limits, although that was apparently shockingly little. Enough torrid details about his personal life made it into the papers that he either had poor friends or a leak somewhere in his staff. It almost made her pity him.

He couldn’t keep the paparazzi from spying on him with their long-range lenses from boats in the ocean waves that butted against his property, or the helicopters that invaded his air space, but those who dared to step foot on the property were dealt with swiftly and harshly.

There hadn’t been a word about that, however. He’d even had his personal assistant drive them all home, a courtesy she was sure he didn’t offer most trespassers. Maybe that almost-kiss had bought her a little leniency. Would it be too much to hope that it might buy her a little more?

Before she could talk herself out of it, Constance threw her shoes back on and ran next door, knocking until Mrs. Ballas stumbled to the door.

“What is it? Is it one of the girls?” she asked.

“No, but I need to run out for a minute. A quick errand. Could you come keep an ear out for them?”

Thankfully, Mrs. Ballas was too tired to question her much. She was at Constance’s and snoring on the couch before Constance could grab her keys and lock the door behind her. She jumped onto her beat-up old scooter and headed out. If there was one person who could set the record straight, it was Luca. Maybe she could get him to speak to her directors, tell them it wasn’t as bad as it looked, that it had been his fault.

Constance pulled up to the gate outside Luca’s property and pushed the little button on the call box.

“May I help you?”

“Mr. Stavros, is that you?”

“Indeed it is. To whom am I speaking?”

“This is Constance McMurty, from earlier…”

“Ah yes. Miss McMurty. What can we do for you this evening?”

“I was hoping to speak to Mr. Vasilakis. It won’t take long.”

“One moment please.”

Constance gripped the handlebars while a thousand octopi flopped around in her stomach.

“Mr. Vasilakis would be happy to speak with you,” Joseph said. There was a loud clicking sound and the scrolled metal gates opened to welcome her in.

“Oh God, here we go,” she muttered, easing her scooter through the gates and up to the main house.

She didn’t have any time to steel herself to see him again. When she got off her moped, Luca stood in the open doorway, leaning against the jamb with his arms folded across his bare chest. Her gaze traveled over his body, a little shiver running through her as she took in the soft flannel pants that barely clung to his corded hips, and nothing else but a solid expanse of kissable skin. His thick, black hair hung in damp tendrils to his shoulders, like he’d just stepped out of the shower. The scent of his soap, something musky and masculine, grew stronger the closer she got to him and she had to resist the urge to sniff the air like some rabid bloodhound.

When she got nearer, he padded toward her on bare feet, not stopping until he was only a few inches from her. Constance craned her neck to look up at him.

“Stanzia, you’ve come back for another visit?”

“Constance,” she murmured. “My name is Constance, though I’d prefer if you’d call me Miss McMurty.”

“But I wouldn’t prefer it. Much too reserved for the woman who fell into my arms this afternoon. Stanzia is softer, sweeter on the lips.” He glanced at her mouth and it was all she could do to keep from tucking her lips in, away from his heated gaze. “It shall be my pet name for you.”

Constance frowned and backed away from him. “You don’t know me well enough to give me a pet name. It’s Miss McMurty. We need to speak about this afternoon.”

Luca stepped aside and held his arm out. “By all means, enter.”

She hadn’t really noticed her surroundings earlier when they’d run inside to escape the helicopter. The simplicity of the space surprised her. Inside was well lit, tastefully decorated, completely harmless looking. So why did it feel like she’d been welcomed into some depraved den of sin?

Joseph welcomed her with a huge smile. “
Kalispera
, Miss McMurty. May I get you something to drink?”

“Good evening, Mr. Stavros. No, thank you. I’m fine.”

“Call me Joseph, please.”

“Call me Constance,” she said, smiling at him. Him, she liked. His boss on the other hand…

“You allow him to call you by your given name?” Luca asked, brow furrowed in consternation. Or was it amusement? Why did he always seem to be either irritated or laughing at her?

“He has been nothing but courteous and respectful. He’s earned the right to use my given name.”

The eyebrow quirked up again and this time she definitely detected amusement. The man was insufferable.

Luca’s arm brushed against hers as he walked by her and she shivered again. How did the merest touch from that man do that to her? He sprawled on the large white leather sofa and gestured to the matching overstuffed armchair facing him.

“Have a seat.”

She perched on the edge of the chair ready to run at the first sign of any funny business.

His lips twitched as he settled back against the cushions and she narrowed her eyes. He had her number and he knew it, and despite her best intentions, there didn’t seem to be a damned thing she could do about it. Best to get on with her business and get the hell out of there before she let her severely neglected hormones totally ruin her life.

“So what can I do for you?” Luca asked, his dark brown eyes and slowly smiling lips insinuating there was much he’d like to do to her…er, for her.

“Have you been online at all tonight?”

“Not tonight, no.”

Constance took a deep breath and nodded. “Well, there are photos of us…from earlier…”

“Oh?” Luca’s smile was full blown now. “And what exactly are the pictures of?”

Constance huffed, already done with the game. “You know very well what they are of. I want to know what we can do about it.”

“Do? Why should we do anything? They’re pictures. Ignore them.”

“I can’t ignore them! Because of those pictures I might lose my girls.”

Luca’s amusement faded. “What girls? The ones who were here? They are yours? All of them?”

Constance glared at him. “My directors think I brought my charges here and exposed them to…”

Luca’s eyebrow rose a notch.

“Well, brought them here so I could…so we could…”

Luca’s brow rose higher and Constance glared at him. “I’m sure you can figure out what they think.”

“I’m sure I can, too. Maybe I want to hear you say it.”

“Mr. Vasilakis,” she said, her temper overriding her determination to keep herself under control.

“Call me Luca.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Why?”

She frowned again. “Because I don’t know you well enough.”

That damned eyebrow rose again. “I think we know each other well enough for first names. Besides, I wish it.”

He sat back as if that decided the matter, and she opened her mouth to argue the issue with him, and then reminded herself there were more pressing matters than what she’d call him. Especially since she didn’t intend to see him again after tonight.

She closed her eyes for a brief second and composed herself, drawing in a deep breath and straightening her back. But she opened them to find Luca’s gaze boring into her with an intensity that sent a shudder rippling through her. Maybe if she avoided looking directly into those impossibly dark eyes she’d be able to get through this. She looked instead at the slight dimple in his chin.

“Mr. Vasilakis, I came to ask if you would speak with my directors on my behalf. Explain to them that nothing happened.”

“That might be rather hard to explain considering the images they’ve seen,” he said with a laugh.

She glared at him. “You said you hadn’t seen the pictures.”

“No, I said I hadn’t been online tonight. I didn’t say I hadn’t seen the pictures.”

He reached over to a stack of printouts on the table next to the couch and handed her a tabloid from the top of the pile.

“I don’t normally read these, either, but Joe thought I might want to see these so he took the liberty of printing out a few articles from a few of the more thorough sites.”

The top page showed an overblown, up-close image of her in Luca’s arms, bodies pressed together from head to toe, looking like she was extremely happy to be there. She should have taken the face-f of dirt. It might have hurt, but it would’ve saved her a lot of trouble.

“Oh God,” she groaned. “I’ll be sacked for sure.”

“Maybe not,” Luca said, a tone in his voice that Constance couldn’t identify.

“What do you mean?” she asked, afraid to hope he’d actually agree to help her.

“I have a proposal for you.”

“What kind of proposal?”

Luca turned to Joe who stepped forward. Constance frowned.

“Mr. Vasilakis is in a bit of trouble of his own,” Joseph said. Luca grimaced but he didn’t interrupt. “His father wishes him to”—his gaze flicked to his employer and he appeared to be choosing his words carefully—“live a more sedate lifestyle.”

Luca snorted.

“Well, I can understand that, but what does it have to do with me?”

Luca gestured to the tabloid Constance had dropped on the coffee table. “Some enterprising peon in my father’s employ saw the pictures of us and did a little digging on you. Seems you are a fine, upstanding young woman with no warrants, arrests, or blemishes on your record of any kind. Moreover, you have dedicated your life to help those less fortunate and are currently working as a House Mother in one of the children’s village homes where you spend your days looking after orphans and foster children. My father is over the moon.”