Irresistible Greeks: Defiance and Desire: Defying Drakon / The Enigmatic Greek / Baby out of the Blue

‘ARE you expecting someone to join you?’

Gemini had been aware of Drakon the moment he entered her favourite Italian restaurant. Just as she had been aware of the female interest directed towards him as he inexorably made his way across that restaurant to where she sat at a table in one of the more private booths at the back of the happily noisy and crowded room. A table set for two.

Her own heart had skipped a beat at how dark and dangerously attractive Drakon looked this evening, in a casual black silk shirt, unbuttoned at the throat, and black trousers tailored to the long length of his legs. The darkness of his hair was slightly tousled and damp, as if he had recently taken a shower. Which he probably had, she accepted, if he had only flown in from New York a few hours ago.

She put down her glass of Chianti to lean back against the leather bench seat. She looked up and smiled at him. ‘Yes, I’m expecting someone to join me,’ she confirmed lightly.

Drakon looked more than a little irritated. ‘Did my assistant not telephone you earlier to tell you I would be calling at your apartment this evening?’

‘Oh, yes, he telephoned me,’ Gemini said blandly.

‘Then—’

‘Obviously I had plans for this evening other than sitting at home waiting for the great Drakon Lyonedes to grace me with his magnificent presence,’ she continued as though he hadn’t spoken.

He would have to be blind not to notice the way those sea-green eyes flashed with temper. And unfortunately he wasn’t in the least visually impaired where Gemini Bartholomew was concerned! ‘You are annoyed that I asked my assistant to telephone you.’ It was a statement not a question.

‘How astute of you, Drakon!’ she came back with saccharine sweetness.

If anything Gemini looked more beautiful this evening than when Drakon had last seen her: those sparkling eyes were surrounded by long dark lashes, colour highlighted her cheeks, the fullness of her lips was glossed peach, and her hair was a silky white-blonde curtain about her slender shoulders. The fitted cotton sweater she wore was the same sea-green colour as her eyes, and a short black skirt revealed the length of her legs.

Drakon’s mouth thinned as he realised he was not at all pleased to know she had dressed like that for the pleasure of another man. ‘Are you saying you would rather I had telephoned and spoken to you personally before I left New York?’ he queried.

Her eyes once more glowed with temper. ‘I’m saying I would rather you had bothered to return my call two days ago, or at the very least telephoned me yesterday and asked if it was convenient for us to meet this evening, rather than just having your assistant call and tell me that we were!’

Yes, that would have been the more acceptable, the more polite way of doing things, Drakon acknowledged impatiently. Except he had not been feeling in the least polite—either yesterday or any of the other days he had been back in New York. Because of this woman. Because he had not been able to stop thinking about Gemini and the last time the two of them had been together. Or how much he wished to see her and be with her again…

That knowledge alone had been enough to make his temper and mood unpredictable at best these past three days, and volatile at worst. Nor, he acknowledged irritably, had he been in the least sure of how much she would have welcomed the call if he had been the one to telephone today…

Drakon had accepted long ago that he was a man of strong sexual appetites, but also a man who rarely if ever thought of any of the women he made love to when he was not sharing her body and her bed. Gemini Bartholomew, he had learnt these past few days, was the exception to that rule—and he didn’t like it one little bit.

He had found himself thinking of her far too often for comfort since flying back to New York, both at work and during the long evenings spent at his penthouse apartment in Manhattan. Neither did he have to look far to find the reason for his feelings of frustration where she was concerned.

Gemini’s admission of physical innocence…

Drakon had been stunned. It was incredible, unbelievable, that a woman of her beauty and years should still be a virgin. It also put her beyond the reach of his normal casual affairs. Unfortunately that in no way lessened the desire Drakon felt for her…

Just seeing her again, being with her again, was enough to make his body harden with a ferocious desire!

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake sit down and stop making the place look untidy, Drakon,’ she snapped as the waiter arrived at the table and handed her two menus before departing again.

He frowned. ‘I thought you said you were waiting for someone.’

‘I was,’ Gemini said. ‘And now he’s arrived. I was waiting for you, Drakon,’ she admitted as he continued to stare down at her.

His eyes widened. ‘Me?’

‘I was pretty sure one of your watchdogs would be only too happy to tell you exactly where to find me at eight o’clock this evening,’ she told him. ‘And, as you very kindly gave me dinner at your apartment last time, I thought the least I could do was buy you dinner at my favourite Italian restaurant this evening. Would you care for a glass of red wine?’ She lifted up the bottle of Chianti she had ordered when she arrived and held it poised over the empty wine glass at the place setting opposite her own.

‘Thank you,’ Drakon accepted quietly as he slid onto the bench seat opposite, more relieved than he cared to consider at the knowledge that Gemini was not spending the evening with another man after all. That she had, in fact, dressed this way for his pleasure. ‘I apologise if you found my assistant’s telephone call impolite.’

Gemini looked across the table at Drakon from beneath lowered lashes, knowing she was once again slightly overwhelmed by the sheer presence of this man. Even dressed in casual clothes he exuded that aura of power and authority. ‘Your assistant was perfectly polite, Drakon—you’re the one I consider rude and highhanded in asking him to make the call in the first place.’

Drakon returned her gaze quizzically. ‘You don’t intend to let me off the hook lightly, do you?’

‘Should I?’ Gemini deliberately showed none of the inner turmoil she felt at seeing Drakon again as she casually picked up her wine glass and took a sip of the deliciously fruity red wine.

‘Probably not.’ He shrugged those broad shoulders.

‘Definitely not,’ she corrected pointedly.

Drakon sighed. ‘Very well. I apologise unreservedly, Gemini, for not telephoning you myself and requesting a meeting with you.’

‘You’re forgiven.’ She gave a graciously acknowledging inclination of her head.

‘So this is your favourite restaurant…’ Drakon looked about them appreciatively, finding the warm and cosy atmosphere of the restaurant also to his liking.

There were red-and-white-checked cloths on the twenty or so occupied tables, with candles alight in empty wine bottles on each one, lots of greenery trailing down from above, brightly coloured pictures of Italy adorning the terracotta-coloured walls, and the delicious smells of garlic and Italian sauces coming from the kitchen were enough to make his mouth water.

‘Not what you were expecting?’

Drakon’s gaze returned across the table to Gemini as he heard the amusement in her voice. Inwardly he acknowledged that nothing about this young woman was what he would have expected from the only daughter of the wealthy and influential Miles Bartholomew. Which, he knew, was becoming a serious problem for him; Gemini was rapidly throwing all his previous experience with women off-balance. Throwing him off-balance…

He shrugged as he picked up the menu. ‘I’m sure the food here is adequate.’

She gave an indelicate snort. ‘The food here is fantastic!’

Drakon perused the extensive menu. ‘What would you recommend?’

Gemini studied his bent head, noting the way his hair had started to curl slightly as it dried in the warmth of the restaurant. The sharp angles of his face were softened by the warm glow of candlelight, and the silky dark hair visible at the base of his throat where his shirt was unbuttoned instantly made her remember how that soft pelt went all the way down to his—

‘Gemini?’

A blush warmed her cheeks as she raised her startled gaze to meet Drakon’s glittering black one. ‘Anything,’ she answered abruptly. ‘All the food here is good.’

Those dark eyes continued to study her for long, timeless seconds. Tense, still seconds, when even the chatter of the other diners faded into the background and there seemed to be only Gemini and Drakon in the room, and she found herself totally unable to look away from that compelling gaze.

Gemini had hoped that if she ever saw Drakon again she would find she had got over whatever madness had possessed her the last time she had seen him—well, the last two times she had seen him! That she would be able to look at him, speak to him, spend time with him and see him for the arrogant, powerful man that he was. And it was impossible not to see those things in him. Unfortunately she knew he was also dangerously seductive; he only had to touch her, kiss her, to send her over the edge of self-control. Something that had never, ever happened to her before, but seemed to happen constantly with him. As she’d said, he was extremely dangerous…

She straightened, determined to break the sensual spell that once again threatened to engulf and claim her. ‘So, how has your week been?’ she asked with brittle brightness.

‘Busy.’ Drakon put down his menu. ‘Yours?’

She shrugged. ‘The same.’

‘There have been no more visits from your stepmother?’

Gemini gave him a cool look. ‘I’m sure Max has duly reported that there haven’t.’