Page 45 of Greek's Temporary "I Do"

Distract me. Make me forget that this ends tomorrow.

The staff returned to the boat late that afternoon, after Leo had reluctantly called them back. The car met them at the marina and their return to the villa on the Mani Peninsula was quiet, but the air was heavy with the unspoken words that lay between them.

Leo wanted to rub at his temples, to relieve the pressure that was building there, but didn’t want to show such a sign of weakness in that moment. There was a vulnerability between them and he didn’t know if it was his or hers.

All he knew was that there was this pressure filling him with a horrible sense of urgency but no direction to go in. Restlessness moved through his entire body, making him uncomfortable in his own skin.

The car took the coastal road back to the villa, each turn offering the most incredible view of the Mediterranean, the classic Greek shoreline, rich green foliage covering sandy white rock, stark against a blue that would remind him of Helena’s eyes for ever.

But beyond all the beauty he could see through the window, all he could hear was alarm bells. Ones that had been ringing in his ears ever since that afternoon. No. He couldn’t lie to himself, not any more. He’d been hearing them ever since he’d seen her that first time in the church, but they’d been getting louder and louder, warning of danger ahead.

The last time he’d felt like this, he’d ignored it. Ignored all the warning signs that his brother was unhappy. That his brother wasn’t as one hundred percent committed to their childhood dream as he’d once been.

Oh, he had done a very good job at convincing himself that he’d not known what Leander was going to do. That it had been such a complete shock to him. But could he still continue to do that? Especially now, when it seemed just as important, if not more so, than it had been then.

Back then, he had done absolutely nothing, because he’d needed to be wrong. Because he couldn’t have imagined life, or Liassidis Shipping, without his brother—his other half. And here he was again, feeling that same sense of something, someone slipping through his fingers unable to do a damn thing. That same sense of being unable to imagine his future without Helena in it. And that need, that desperation, scared the hell out of him.

The car pulled up outside the entrance to the villa and, not waiting for the driver’s help, Helena left the car without sparing Leo a backward glance, her body a study in taut lines and hard angles, as if she were trying with all her might to hold herself together.

Leo remained behind in the car, his jaw clenched and hands fisted. He needed to staunch the fury, the anger he felt...the fear that he wrestled with. It was as if they’d condensed an entire lifetime into a week, and only now was he becoming overwhelmed by the emotions. Only now, when he felt her slipping through his fingers.

He got out of the car, spurred on by that thought, slamming the door behind him, uncaring of who heard or what they thought. He stalked into the villa and found her staring out at the view from the living area. His heart raged in his chest, pounding furiously, protesting against the cage of emotions that had it in such a stranglehold.

For a moment they just stayed like that, Helena desperately holding herself together and Leo desperately holding himself back.

‘I think you should go.’

Her statement should have shocked him. Should have cut the ground from under his feet. But it didn’t. Just like it hadn’t that day when Leander took the money and ran. He’d known. All along he’d known. Then. And now.

‘We have time,’ he bartered as he looked at the clock. It was barely eight in the evening. ‘Hours even.’

She shook her head, her eyes still fixed on some invisible point on the horizon. ‘It’s better if you leave before your brother gets here, don’t you think?’

‘No, I don’t,’ he lied.

He couldn’t take it any more. Crossing the room, he came to her side and pulled her round to face him. Her arms stayed crossed around her body, in protection, in defiance, and it hit him hard.

She needed that? Protection? Against him?

‘We could find a way to make this work.’

The breath left her lips in a puff of air that sounded painfully like derision. And it cut him deep. Shaking her head, she stared at him, incredulous.

‘How?’ she asked hopelessly. ‘How would we make this work? Secret assignations? One weekend here, an evening there, hoping that no one will notice? Or we could wait, I suppose,’ she said, her words falling rapidly from her perfect mouth, one after the other. ‘Leander and I were going to divorce after a year and a half. What do you think is a respectable time to wait before I start banging the other brother?’

‘Christós, Helena.’ He hated hearing the crass words in her soft English tones.

‘Oh, I think we both know that that is the least offensive way to describe what the world would be thinking and what the press would be printing,’ Helena replied, hating the words coming out of her mouth.

She was right. He knew she was right, so why was he fighting this?

Hope. That wretched thing that he had tried to sever all those years ago. Hope that things could be different. The same hope that drove almost everything that Helena did in her life. Somehow, it had sprung back into being, yearning for more than he could have.

He reached for her quickly, so that she couldn’t refuse him. The kiss was angry, furious, and all the more passionate for its desperation. He prised apart her lips, his tongue possessing her, taunting her, trying to claim her even as she would evade him. But she opened for him, as she always would. Welcomed him, his anger, welcomed it all and gave back her own desperate helplessness in return. She stroked his tongue with hers and he held her even tighter as she slipped through his fingers.

He stalked them back against the window, his body caging hers between him and the glass, his hands moving over her clothes, desperate to find whatever skin he could claim. Her moan of pleasure drove him wild beyond reason and into chaos. But it was the helpless whimper of need, of want, of so much more than he could give that yanked him back from the brink of madness. They broke apart, heaving breaths between them, Leo nearly buckling beneath the agony of losing her.

‘Don’t do this, Helena. Don’t push me away,’ he begged, even though he couldn’t offer her anything more than this.

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