Her Greek Romance aka Greek Encounter

Kindle Edition

Greek Encounter

Copyright March 2012 - Mona Risk

Kindle Edition, License Notes

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used, reproduced, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Other books by Mona Risk:

NO MORE LIES :

EPIC’s eBook 2011 Finalist.

Best Contemporary Romance at READERS FAVORITE.

RIGHT NAME, WRONG MAN:

14 Five-Stars reviews

BABIES IN THE BARGAIN:

Best Romance Novel at Preditors & Editors Readers Poll 2009.

Best Contemporary Romance at READERS FAVORITE.

The Long and the Short of It Reviews: Best Book of the Week

Night Owl Romance: TOP PICK

PRESCRIPTION IN RUSSIAN:

Night Owl Romance: TOP PICK

TO LOVE A HERO:

Simply Romance Review: Outstanding Read

The Romance Studio: Sweetheart of the Week

FRENCH PERIL:

Night Owl Romance: Recommended Read

OSIRIS’ MISSING PART:

Night Owl Romance: TOP PICK

CHAPTER ONE

Revenge would taste sweet. Yet Stefano Kostapoulos sought no revenge. A sad page of his family's history needed to be turned once and for all.
We will forget the past
, he vowed as he scanned the one-story brick house hunkered down on a dune facing the Aegean Sea. God, how he hated the old villa that spoiled the beauty of Mykonos Island.  

The wrought-iron gate leading to the dilapidated yard opened. A woman came out, a beach bag in her hand, and closed the gate behind her.

Unable to believe his eyes, Stefano slapped his open palms on the railing at the bow of his yacht, and leaned forward. No one had stepped into the Pink Villa since his grandmother Elena became so sick four months ago. What was going on here?

 “I’ll...be...damned.”

She was a vision. Aphrodite in a green sarong. Her reddish blond hair cascaded down her back in a glorious mane. Stefano extended his arm in a wishful gesture as if to catch the curly strands flying in the gentle breeze.

Raising his binoculars, he followed the alluring sway of her hips as she crossed the street, ambled along the boardwalk, and stepped onto the sand. She sauntered toward a striped umbrella and dropped her bag on a vacant lounge chair under the shade.

Without wasting another minute, Stefano unhooked his phone from his belt and punched in his lawyer’s number.

“
Kalimera
, Ted, good morning. I’m on the
Athena
. I saw a woman coming out of the old house. Should we anticipate trouble?”

“I haven’t heard anything from my American counterpart.” A shuffling noise indicated Ted was searching through his notes. After a few seconds of silence, he cleared his throat. “This woman may be a cleaning maid.”

Stefano brought the binoculars back to his eyes for a thorough check. Poise and natural elegance emanated from the young woman.

“Too classy, with a figure to damn a saint, and hair about to set the beach on fire. Definitely no maid here.”

On the other end of the phone line, a burst of laughter interrupted his enthusiastic description. “Sounds like you’re already on fire. Take a cold drink while I make a few phone calls. I’ll get back to you.”

“See that you do. Tomorrow we have to win our case in court and get a permit to demolish the dump. I don’t want any surprises. Call me as soon as you have an explanation.” Breathing deeply to calm his growing nervousness, he inhaled the salty air of the Mediterranean Sea and hooked the cell phone to his belt.

Determined to keep a vigil on the potential threat created by the presence of a stranger in his grandmother’s house—and what a stranger—Stefano raised the binoculars again watching the scenario unfolding on the shore.

The young woman untied her beach wrap and threw it on the back of the lounge chair.

“Lovely.” The word escaped him with a groan as she revealed perfect curves molded by the bikini like a second skin. Stefano blinked, assessing and admiring.

Aphrodite’s hands slid behind her back and remained hidden for a good moment. What was she up to? She turned around. This time he could see her profile and her fingers clasped on the hook of her bikini top.

With impatient twists, he fiddled with his binoculars. Damn it. It was already in perfect focus. Eyes narrowed, Stefano stiffened and zeroed in his attention on the beach.

Her head swiveled right then left. Was she scanning the stretch of sand carpeted with topless sunbathers? Guessing the woman’s intention, he swallowed hard.

Take it off or not take it off? What a dilemma

She must be a foreigner. Probably a bashful American on her first visit to Greece. No doubt about it. A European beauty wouldn’t have hesitated to remove her bra on a beach where topless was the norm and full bathing suits the exception.

His senses on alert, Stefano stilled, focusing and waiting. Would she shy away from revealing herself or follow the locals’ example?

Her breasts swelled and rose while she seemed to struggle with her thoughts. Her fingers clenched behind her back on the thin strip of material. With a swift gesture, she unhooked the clasp, snatched the bikini top off, and crumpled it in her palm.

Stefano sucked in his breath.
Simply gorgeous
. His hands fisted, and flexed, and he almost dropped his binoculars.

As if she sensed she was being watched, the woman crossed her arms in front of her, and plopped onto the lounge chair, hiding her magnificent breasts from his hungry gaze.

Good Lord. What was he doing, ogling a foreigner? He raked his hair, embarrassment dousing his excitement. Thousands of beauties lay topless on the Greek shores. He’d never bothered to grant them more than a passing glance. Yeah, but none had hair as fiery as this siren, a skin as white as his favorite sweet whipped cream, and a figure to revive a dead man. His own body quivered with life, tenting his navy blue shorts. He threw a glance over his shoulder. Luckily, his steward was busy mopping the aft deck.

“Mikhali, let’s go closer to shore.”

Stefano didn’t waste time to weigh his decision. He wanted to meet the beautiful redhead. Besides, he needed to discover why she was at the Pink Villa, the old, decrepit place where his grandmother Elena had hidden her grief and tears once a month for half a century.

Just as the yacht reached the bay where it usually anchored, Stefano’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the number displayed. “Ted, what’s up?”

“I called the clerk at the court. He received a fax today saying that Mr. Zanis’ lawyer is arriving from America to contest your application for a permit to demolish the house.”

“Damn Zanis and his lawyer. My Yaya suffered for years from the lousy memories held in this place. Stick to the plan. No lawyer is going to stop me, no matter what he does.”

It was too late for his Yaya now. His dear grandmother had died five weeks ago. She hadn’t minded his suggestion to build a beautiful resort on the lot of the old house, but she’d insisted he notify the American co-owner, George Zanis. The snake had protested long and loud, threatened to take all the Kostapoulos to court, and promised to send his attorney.

Next Monday, after forty days of mourning as was the Greek custom, their family lawyer would read the will. Stefano straightened, never doubting the outcome of the meeting and the court’s decision. Soon, the despicable Pink Villa would be his to demolish. With the reminder of the painful past crushed to the ground, he’d build a luxury resort on the premium land, and replace the painful past with the laughter of joyful visitors.

The sooner, the better.

“Stefano, the lawyer is a Miss Sheppard. She’s staying at the Poseidon Hotel and she visited the Pink Villa this morning. She will appear in court on Monday with a local attorney to contest your petition to demolish the villa.”

“I’ll be damned.” The image of a lovely figure with blazing hair and gorgeous breasts popped into his mind. The opposition lawyer.
Pity
. Tomorrow, he’d have to fight her in court, rip her apart if needed. “Ted, I want to meet this woman. Arrange a meeting with her for later without telling her who I am. My name is a mouthful anyway. Instead of Dimitri Stefano Alexios Kostapoulos, use Stefano Alexios. I’ll try to prevent her from appearing in court. We need to demolish the Pink Villa. No matter what it takes. I don’t want my family to suffer any longer.”

Stefano pitched a savage look beyond the turquoise waves unfurling on the golden sand of Mykonos, the island where he’d lived all his life. With the villa gone, his parents and relatives would regain peace of mind and stop cursing the coward George Zanis who’d dishonored and abandoned Yaya Elena years ago.

****

Ashley Sheppard blew out a breath of exasperation. Following the local customs hadn’t prevented her from attracting unwanted attention. What more could she do? She had donned a skimpy bikini and taken off the darn bra to blend with the crowd of topless sunbathers. And yet strollers stared at her as if she wore a sign labeled, “It’s my first time here.” She couldn’t spend the rest of the afternoon with her arms crossed over her chest.

Behind her sunglasses, she narrowed her eyes, examining the colorful throng swarming the beach for a clue. What could be different about her? Other women walked around or lay almost nude without eliciting any special interest from their neighbors. Young and old, blonde-haired and brunettes, tanned or...white. White? Could that be her problem?

With a scowl, she reached into her beach bag for a plastic bottle and squirted out a generous portion of sunscreen to slather over her lily-white breasts. In a sudden frenzy, she emptied the bottle all over her body and furiously rubbed it in. Too bad the lotion couldn’t dye her skin instantaneously. But its strong perfume overpowered the refreshing smell of the sea and warm sand.

Keeping one arm strategically positioned to hide part of her breasts, she smoothed her hair to tame the unruly strands flying over her face. It suddenly occurred to her she was the only redhead around here. Easy enough to fix. Fishing her cap from the bag, she fumbled to tuck up her hair without uncovering her chest. Exhaling with relief, she relaxed, determined to enjoy a quiet afternoon before starting serious work tomorrow.