Page 11 of Beauty and the Greek Billionaire

Nico snorted. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

“Go n-ithe an cat thú, is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat.” Her voice transformed into something even more unusual-sounding. “That one’s Irish Gaelic. ‘May the cat eat you, and may the devil eat the cat.’”

She reached for a strawberry and popped it into her mouth, sinking her teeth into the red flesh and hanging on to the little green stalk at the end.

Nico hadn’t been on a date in over a year. At least. But he’d never been on a date like this—not one that had him laughing and relaxed, enjoying himself like he’d known the woman for years instead of mere hours.

This isn’t a date. You have no idea what she really wants from you.

“Could you teach me a Greek swear word?” she asked. “I have to admit, I don’t know much Greek at all.”

“I think everyone knows malaka.” He tore off a piece of bread and used a knife to put some cheese on top.

“I want a funny one. I collect them,” she said, wriggling her fingers over the fruit bowl again. “Like Pokémon.”

“I’m fond of Ái ston kóraka, which translates to ‘go to the crows,’” he said. “But it’s like telling someone to go to hell.”

“Go to the crows. I like that!” She looked up at him suddenly. “Thank you for doing this.”

“For what?”

“Taking me for a drink and then bringing me here to the beach, and for all this.” She swept her hand over their picnic. “I really don’t deserve it, since I punched you in the face.”

“You were only trying to protect yourself.” He understood it far more than she could possibly imagine because self-preservation was something Nico had learned at a very early age. “I’m just glad that guy didn’t get your wallet in the end. There’s nothing worse than trying to get new ID and credit cards issued when you’re supposed to be enjoying a vacation.”

“Well, I certainly am enjoying myself now.” She leaned back on her forearms and squinted up at the endless sky. “I feel like I’ve landed in paradise.”

He shouldn’t have gotten warm and fuzzy feelings from her gratitude. She was still the sister of a man who might be trying to swindle him. But Nico would be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling pretty damn good right about now.

“Do you ever feel like you just want to be someone else for a day?” she asked.

He had thought about it many times as a young boy. What would it be like to be someone who had a mother and father? Someone who was born into a loving home? How might his life have turned out differently?

How might he have turned out differently?

“I am who I am,” he said, shoving the memories aside.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to…escape for a day? To have a clean slate—no past, no baggage. No consequences.”

Was this her way of saying that she wanted nothing to do with her brother’s business proposal?

“What would you do with your one day of escape?” he asked.

“This.” Bianca/Marianna’s body stretched out on the towel beside him, the water droplets having evaporated into the hot air. “Exactly this.”

“Talking about foreign swear words and eating cheese?”

She laughed. “Yes. Good conversation and good food. Good company, too.”

It was, actually. The best company he’d shared in some time. Probably because he only left his house when absolutely necessary, these days. He’d retreated further and further into himself the past year. He hadn’t thought about escaping his isolation, because it was a construct of his own making.

But now, spending the afternoon with a beautiful woman and feeling more human than he had in a long time, he understood her desire completely.

“We probably shouldn’t stay out too long,” he warned. “You look like you’re going to get burned if you’re not careful.”

Who the hell was he right now? Since when did he worry about other people like that?

“I have some sunscreen.” She reached into her new bag. “I don’t suppose you’d mind getting your hands dirty? I won’t be able to reach my back.”

Lord help him.

You can handle a little sunscreen.

“Sure.” He reached his hand out, and she gave him the bottle. When she turned and swept her dark hair over one shoulder, his breath caught in his throat.

The line of her back was perfection—like she’d been created by an artist’s brush. Her shoulders were softly curved, her waist coming in to create a subtle dip over where her hips flared back out. The strings on her bikini created gentle little indentations in her skin. Her body was soft and luscious. Curves was his catnip—he loved the look of full breasts and a round ass.

This is not the time to get excited. Just put the sunscreen on her and think un-sexy thoughts.

But the second his hands smoothed over her back, spreading the white lotion, he was lost. He massaged it into her skin, not missing the soft little gasp that came when his hands skated around her sides, trying to make sure she was protected without feeling her up. He wanted so badly to bring his hands around to her front, to push his palms up under the thin fabric covering her breasts so he could feel every inch of her. To see if she was as wet behind the bikini bottoms as he hoped she would be.

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