Her Greek Romance aka Greek Encounter (5 page)

Scanning the coastline through the binoculars, Ashley spotted rows of umbrellas made of palm leaves, sun beds and beach bars, as the
Athena
smoothly sailed past. At the end of the crowded area, the shore curved into a hidden bay with clear water. Small rocks dotted the sand and rocky hills provided a background to the secluded place devoid of umbrellas and chairs. Yet the beach was not deserted. People strolled in group or couples.

Ashley scowled as she focused on the vacationers. Was she seeing correctly? She removed the binoculars and fixed her attention on a couple holding hands. “No way,” she gasped and then stared again through the magnifying lenses.

Stefano chuckled.

She swirled toward him. “They’re naked. I mean completely.”

“It’s a nudist beach,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” she muttered. Staring again through the binoculars, she scanned the sand curiously and swallowed. “Oh,” she repeated, not knowing what else to say as she examined a couple occupied in stroking each other’s chests. The man’s hand slid between the woman’s thighs and she grabbed her lover’s cock.

“Gosh.” Still staring through the binoculars, she fanned her face, then realized what she was doing, and snatched the magnifying lenses away. “Please, move the boat.”

Stefano burst out laughing. “There are many nudist beaches along the coast. Some people like to go there. But we won’t linger here of course.”

“Of course.” She blinked several times to erase the image of the couple frolicking on the sand and resolutely turned away from the coast to concentrate on her companion.

Having maneuvered the yacht away from the offensive bay, Stefano accelerated the speed. They were now too far from the coast for her to differentiate between the various beaches and the degree of nudity on the sand.

She glanced back at the shore. The indelible image of the couple on the beach still seared her memory. Except that in her mind, the man on the sand had Stefano’s features and she was the woman he held.

After a moment, Stefano checked his watch and brought the yacht closer to land. “We’ll go back to pick up Mikhali. Are you hungry? We can have dinner as soon as he comes back.”

 “Yes, let’s have dinner, please.” She forced the words through the lump clogging her throat. Food would provide a welcome interlude and a break from her lascivious thoughts.

Stefano watched her quietly and his eyes shone with a new intensity. “I’ll cut the engine and let the boat drift for a short while. Come, Ashley.”

He led her to the upper deck and the dinette. She grabbed the binoculars that he’d just put on the table. As she surveyed the shore to assess the location of the ship, she recognized the area, the beach where she’d lounged in the morning and her grandfather’s Pink Villa. That was exactly what she needed to clear her thoughts.

“I’m going to the galleys to fetch our trays,” Stefano announced.

“Can I help?” she casually offered, not really eager to go to a confined space with her handsome host.

“
Efkharisto
. Thank you, but no. I’d rather you stay and enjoy the view,” he said and disappeared down the stairwell.

Ashley pulled her cellular phone from her pocket. Zooming on the Pink Villa, she clicked a few pictures and sent them to her grandfather. Two minutes later, the phone rang.

“Ashley, my little one, how are things going?” Grandpa asked with concern.

“Great. Everything is going smoothly. I visited your villa and took a lot of pictures from land and sea,” she explained, her gaze riveted on the Pink Villa.

“Good, good,” Grandpa answered with a jovial voice that reassured her about his physical and emotional health. The dear old man had been quite restless in the few days before her departure from Boston, but it was understandable considering his recent heart problems and the stress due to the old house. All because of that sleazeball by the name of Kostapoulos.

“I met the opposition lawyer, Ted Pastroudis. Imagine the guy was with me at Harvard.”

“So he’s a better lawyer than we thought?”

“Maybe. But don’t worry, Grandpa. I’m well prepared. I haven’t seen our lawyer. Anton Benatis is coming tonight from Athens. He’ll pick me up tomorrow to go to court.”

Silence filled the line for a brief moment. “Have you met Elena’s grandson?”

“The enemy?” She shrugged. “Tomorrow will be soon enough for that.”

“But you said you talked to his lawyer. So Kostapoulos wasn’t with him?”

“Nope, thank God,” she blurted.

“I see.” Grandpa’s voice sounded disappointed, almost regretful. “Well, call me after you meet him.”

“Why?” she said with a frown. Grandpa could be so unpredictable and had come up with weird ideas more than once. Hadn’t he asked her to carry a suitcase filled with Elena’s letters all the way to Mykonos?

“Nothing special. I want to hear your first impression of him.”

“I can tell you right now that I’m not going to stand the guy. Maybe I’ll be lucky and he won’t show in the courtroom.”

“Oh. Well, just call me. Bye now, little one.”

“Grandpa, what should I do with the suitcase of letters?” But he’d already disconnected.

Was she imagining things? She shook her head to clear it. Why would Grandpa want her to meet the SOB who planned to steal his house and demolish it?

Forget the enemy and even his name. She didn’t need a nasty reminder to spoil her lovely evening. As a matter of fact, she’d prefer a nice souvenir. After taking a picture of the yacht bow, she saved it as screen saver on her cell phone, then turned, clicking a picture of the dinette and the deck.

“Would you like me to take your picture?” Stefano asked from the door, carefully holding a big tray with several bottles and various glasses.

How long had he been standing there?

CHAPTER THREE

Had Stefano heard her side of the conversation? His blank expression creased into a frown of concern as he cautiously lowered his tray on to the glass cart next to the table. Straightening, he bestowed an easy smile on her. “I’ll take your picture now. How about standing against the side rail? You’ll have a nice background with the sea and Mykonos behind you.”

Ashamed of suspecting him of eavesdropping, Ashley nodded and eased back to the side.

He clicked a couple of pictures. “Don’t move. I’ll take the same picture with my camera. I’ll be back in a second.” He dashed down the stairwell and returned with a tripod and a professional camera. “Now we’ll be in the picture together, if you don’t mind.”

She didn’t mind at all. If she could summon the same confidence in her private life that she had in court, she’d ask him to take several pictures and send them to her. Instead she remained rooted in place like a teenager posing for her prom picture.

After adjusting his camera on the tripod, Stefano dashed to her side, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and said, “Big smile.”

She didn’t need encouragement to smile. Her lips were stretched to her ears and she almost closed her eyes to better feel the strong arm encircling her back.

“Don’t move. I’ll take another picture, just in case this one wasn’t good.”

“Sure.” Content with their pose, she wouldn’t try to move even her little finger.

His right arm still enclosing her back, he activated the remote clasped in his left hand. “We’ll take another on this side with a view of the open sea.”

She blinked, hoping her eagerness didn’t reveal itself with too much brightness in her eyes. Ten pictures later, Ashley was convinced that Stefano had more muscles in his arms than any man she’d dated so far. If only she could slow her racing pulse and stop the tingling in her chest.

“Would you like to taste our national
ouzo
?” Stefano asked as he freed her and moved the tripod and camera aside.

“I know the taste of ouzo. I had it with—” She stopped short and then shrugged. “With my grandfather. He likes it a lot.” So what if she revealed to Stefano that her grandfather loved ouzo?

Always polite, Stefano didn’t question her or seem surprised that her American grandfather would like the liquorice taste of the Greek liquor. He poured the ouzo into two glasses half-filled with ice cubes. The clear liquid turned cloudy and then white. Stefano handed her a glass and raised his drink for a toast.

“
Yia mas
. Cheers.” He clicked his glass against hers. “To a happy vacation in Mykonos.”

“Cheers.” She sipped her drink very slowly and analyzed the mixed feelings raging inside her. Contentment, anxiety and rational thinking warred in her heart. At the moment, her trip to Greece exceeded her expectations and Stefano represented the epitome of a perfect Greek gentleman, but tomorrow she might rue his countrymen. She couldn’t suppress a frown from etching her forehead.

“Ashley, relax. I know you are here for business but…
Separakalo
, please, forget tomorrow and consider this evening a mini-vacation,” he suggested with an enticing smile.

“A mini-vacation?” She surveyed the scenery. Beyond the turquoise sea and the sandy beaches, villages and hamlets were scattered across the hilly island. Little white houses garnished with blue windows and doors spotted the rocky landscape.

To hell with tomorrow
.
It’ll come soon enough
. Shoving her anxiety to the back of her mind, she inhaled the sea breeze. His masculine cologne wafted around and enveloped her in a mantle of warmth. “A mini-vacation sounds like a lovely idea.” With this gorgeous Greek hosting her in this luxurious yacht, the moment was indeed a dream vacation.

Ashley raised her glass and repeated his cheers. “
Yia mas
.”

“Well said. That is the way to enjoy life.” Her companion burst out laughing and tossed down his drink. “But you should eat something when drinking
ouzo
, otherwise the strong liquor can make you dizzy.”

“Oh,” she chuckled. Dizzy from gazing at him, not from the alcohol. He uncovered the platters set on the table and dipped a piece of bread into a hummus dip. Taking a step forward he brought it to her lips. Without hesitation, she opened her mouth and bit it. His fingers lingered an extra second against her lips and her heart somersaulted to her stomach.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes,” she answered too quickly. She liked it all right—bread, dip and mostly his fingers. “Oh yes, the dip is delicious. Now I’ll try the yogurt.” Afraid to have shown more eagerness than necessary, she reached for a piece of bread and wiped it with the white dip.

“The yogurt contains cucumber. It’s seasoned with garlic. We call
tzatziki
.”

“Hmm. It’s good.” Unfortunately, her voice didn’t sound as enthusiastic as when he fed her the hummus. “Really good,” she added to convince herself.

“Listen, since we are both hungry I’ll ask Mikhali to bring the dinner.”

“Is he back?” She hadn’t even noticed.

“He returned while we were taking pictures.”

“So where is he now? And where is his fiancée?”

“Fixing our dinner in the galley, the kitchen.”

“I’d love to see it.”

Stefano opened the door to the stairwell and let her pass in front of him. She climbed down to the living room and halted, waiting for him to show her the way.

“The stairs on the left.” He pointed her in the right direction.

A delicious smell of garlic and nutmeg welcomed them in the galley. Wooden spoon in hand, a young woman stood in front of the stoves, and stirred the sauce in a tin pot.

“
Yassou
,
kyria
.” The pretty brunette examined Ashley curiously.

“Hi, Nina. Stefano told me you cooked for us.”

“I hope you like lamb and vegetables. I added wine to the sauce.”

“I’m sure it’s delicious,” she said with a smile to reassure Nina. Impressed by the big modern kitchen, she studied the numerous appliances. “Good God, Stefano, your galley is three times larger than the kitchen of my apartment. A person could live on this boat.”

Stefano chuckled. “I do.”