Greek Affairs: In His Bed: Sleeping with a Stranger / Blackmailed into the Greek Tycoon's Bed / Bedded by the Greek Billionaire

‘You don’t want to know.’

‘I do.’ Milos was amazed at how much he wanted to know. ‘Doesn’t she approve of the way you dress?’

‘Did she tell you that?’

‘No.’

‘So what are you saying? That you don’t approve either?’

Milos shook his head. ‘We weren’t talking about me.’

‘No, I know.’ She cast him a speculative look. ‘So why are you so interested?’

‘I’m trying to—to get to know you.’

‘Yeah, right.’ Melissa was sardonic. ‘What you really mean is, you’re trying to impress my mum. You didn’t really want to take me out. You just wanted to score points with her.’

‘You couldn’t be more wrong.’ In actual fact, Milos couldn’t remember why he’d agreed to take her out. It seemed so long ago now. Almost in a parallel universe. He made another effort to get through to her. ‘Wouldn’t you like us to be—friends?’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Patently, she didn’t believe him. ‘Lucky for you that Rhea was there, wasn’t it?’

Lucky? Milos wouldn’t have used that word himself. Yet he acknowledged that sooner or later he was bound to have guessed the truth. Or, at least, he hoped he would.

And there was still Helen …

‘So what did she say about me?’ Melissa asked suddenly, and once again Milos was nonplussed.

‘Who?’

‘Rhea, of course. She must have said something. She said she was going to ask you when you were taking me home, but she took ages.’

Milos considered his words very carefully before replying. ‘If you must know,’ he said, ‘she was telling me how much she was enjoying your company. You’re very different from the girls she usually mixes with.’

‘Tell me about it.’ He saw her soft lips compress and for a moment she was incredibly like her mother. ‘So I didn’t bore her, huh?’

‘No.’ Milos knew an unexpected surge of compassion, and for the first time he realised he wanted her to like him. ‘Were you?’

‘Me?’ He tried to ignore the way she wedged her foot against the console before continuing. ‘Hell, no. It was wicked!’

Wicked?

It wasn’t Milos’s usual understanding of the word, but judging from Melissa’s expression it meant something good. ‘I’m glad,’ he said, and he meant it. ‘Maybe we can do the same thing again?’

‘Maybe.’ Melissa regarded him critically. ‘So long as you don’t start telling me what to do.’

‘People do that, do they?’

Melissa shrugged. ‘They say I’m uncontrollable.’

‘And are you?’

‘No.’ She was indignant. ‘But I can’t help it if I find school a drag.’

‘Why do you find it a drag?’

Melissa lifted her shoulders again. ‘I don’t know, do I?’

‘I’m sure you do.’

Her jaw jutted. ‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you? You think getting me to talk about school and stuff will make me start to like it?’

‘I wouldn’t be so presumptuous,’ said Milos drily. ‘But sometimes if people don’t enjoy things, it’s because they don’t understand what’s going on.’

‘Are you implying I’m thick?’ Melissa huffed. ‘You have to be kidding! I can do their assignments standing on my head!’

‘So why don’t you?’

‘Yeah, and be known as a nerd!’ Melissa was scornful. ‘No, thanks, I prefer to hang with my friends.’

Milos shook his head. ‘Are you sure they’re not the—what was it you said?—the thick ones? It seems more sensible to me to use your brains if you want to be a success.’

‘Hey, did I say I wanted to be a success?’ asked Melissa sharply.

‘You said you wanted a car like this,’ Milos reminded her. ‘Cars cost money.’

‘What would you know about it?’ retorted Melissa rudely. ‘I doubt if you’ve ever had to work for anything in your life.’

Milos expelled a breath. ‘That’s what you think, is it?’

‘Yes. No.’ Melissa looked a little shamefaced now. ‘I just mean, we’re not like you.’

You could be, thought Milos, the realisation that he had a responsibility here striking him with sudden force. But would Helen let him help her? He somehow doubted he would be given the chance.

It didn’t surprise him to find Helen perched on the low stone wall that edged the terrace waiting for them. ‘Oh, boy, a welcoming committee,’ muttered Melissa gloomily. ‘Are you gonna tell her what I’ve said?’ She frowned. ‘Or were you given orders to sort me out?’

‘No one gives me orders,’ retorted Milos shortly, and then, meeting Melissa’s I-told-you-so look, he pulled a face. ‘Not usually, anyway,’ he amended, knowing exactly what she was thinking, and they were sharing a smile of mutual understanding when the car halted beside her mother.

Helen was still wearing the skirt and halter she’d had on earlier. The skirt was shorter than she usually wore and Milos’s eyes were instantly drawn to her slim arms and long, slender legs. Her hair had come loose from the pony-tail, too, and he wondered if it was because she’d been running anxious hands through it that thick damp strands were clinging sensuously to her flushed cheeks.

She reached for the door as soon as the car had stopped, pulling it open for Melissa to alight. ‘I can do it,’ Melissa grumbled, and Milos hoped she was sorry because the trip was over. She gave him a rueful look. ‘Thanks for the ride.’

‘My pleasure,’ he said, and, without waiting for her mother to join her, Melissa sauntered up the steps and into the villa. Which left Milos alone with Helen. The ideal opportunity to confront her, he thought. So why did he feel such a reluctance to do so? What if he was wrong?

Her sudden outburst startled him. ‘You had no right to be so long,’ she exclaimed. ‘You must have known I’d be worried about her. What on earth have you been doing?’

Finding out I had a daughter?

But he found he couldn’t say that. What if she denied it? What would he do then? Did he really want to find out?