Page 10 of The Billionaire's Seduction Revenge

“Costa has always been determined,” Vasilios said grudgingly.

What had happened between the two of them? In some ways, it was evident that Vasilios cared a lot for his grandfather—by worrying so much about the older man’s relationship with Emma—but in others, their estrangement was abundantly clear. From Vasilios’s physical absence in Costa’s life to the slight tone of judgement she heard in most of his observations. Why were they this way?

“Undoubtedly one of the reasons he achieved such success.”

Costa’s brows knit together and Emma made a snorting noise of frustration. “And no,” she added witheringly, before he could speak. “In case you think that’s some allusion to his wealth and therefore my interest in obtaining his money, that’s not what I meant.”

“My grandfather seems satisfied that you have no financial interest in him.”

She tilted her chin. “He’s a far better judge of character than you.”

Vasilios let out a laugh, but not rich with humour so much as scepticism. “My grandfather’s judgement of character generally hinges on one aspect of a person—at least when it comes to the opposite sex.”

Emma ground her teeth. “I don’t know what your history is with him, but whatever your issues, you should take them up with Costa, not me. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about our relationship—,”

“And whose fault is that?” He pushed, lowering his voice in concession to the fact they’d almost caught up to Costa. “From the moment I arrived, you have refused to answer even the most basic questions.”

She angled an angry look in his direction. “Because I felt you had no right to ask them,” she hissed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had about as much of you as I can take for one day—make that one lifetime. Goodbye.”

She stalked away as fast as her feet would allow her to travel in the warm, dry sand. Costa had a serene expression on his face, evidently completely unaware of the tension humming between Vasilios and Emma. Good. She didn’t need the older man to be aware of their obvious dislike for one another.

How strange though, Emma couldn’t help reflecting later, back in the relative safety and seclusion of the pool house, for their antipathy to be so pronounced when they barely knew each other. It wasn’t like Emma to make snap judgements about anyone.

Then again, after what she’d just been through, was it any wonder she was being particularly protective of herself?

Wrapping her fingers around her tea, she moved towards the large, glass doors of the pool house, collecting her book as she passed and tucking it under her arm, intent on settling her frazzled nerves.

Even just knowing Vasilios was in the home was enough to make her blood boil!

She settled down into a cane armchair, resting her heels on a nearby ottoman and flicked to her bookmark, trying to locate the sentence she’d most recently read. Skimming the page, she sighed, then determinedly honed her focus.

Vasilios was up to his eyeballs in work and far too disciplined to allow for easy distractions. And yet, as his attention shifted towards the window of his grandfather’s study and out towards the ocean, it was then drawn by something in the foreground, closer to the house, and something stirred deep in his gut.

Emma sat by the pool, her slim yet shapely legs stretched out in the perfect way to catch the afternoon sun, casting them in a light that was pure gold. She wore shorts and a tee shirt, hardly the last word in seduction, and yet the stirring of his body was unmistakable, just as it had been in the pool house the night before.

As he had that night, he blamed his months of celibacy for making him so easily tempted.

Then, Emma shifted, stretching a little, turning in the chair, so her face angled in his direction. The book in her hands dropped to her lap and she startled a little, then settled once more, back into a hazy, daytime sleep.

And his heart kicked up a gear.

Yes, he’d been without the company of a woman for many months, but he’d beenaroundwomen in that time, and he hadn’t been remotely tempted, so it was disingenuous to pretend his current state of speculation had absolutely nothing to do with Emma. It wasn’t just that she was female and in his home, but rather, that she was beautiful. And graceful. And a strange mix of delicate fragility combined with obvious mettle. Hadn’t he been surprised, time and time again, when she’d risen to the occasion and sparred with him? Generally, people were intimidated by Vasilios. He had a reputation for being cold-hearted and ruthless, which had only been underscored by the famously hostile takeover of his family’s business.

What hadn’t been written in the papers was the vulnerable state the business had been in.

If Vasilios hadn’t acted when he did, someone else would have, and Valenti Enterprises would have been sold off, possibly even broken up into different parts. What people hadn’t understood was that Vasilios had been cruel to be kind. He’d acted out of love for his grandfather, even when that had meant injuring him, and injuring his own father.

Nostrils flaring, he stood, moving to the window and bracing his forearm against the frame, eyes locked to Emma’s relaxed figure.

Being cruel to be kind was a particularly apt way to consider things, in light of his current situation.

Would seducing a woman to save his grandfather from yet another fortune hunter be cruel, or kind, or both?

And what if he was wrong about Emma?

Costa seemed convinced that she had money of her own, that she was innocent of any nefarious intent, and perhaps that was true. Then again, what woman in her twenties would decide to hole up in a pool house in Puglia with only an octogenarian for company? There was more going on here, more than Vasilios could immediately understand, and he didn’t like that. Vasilios was a man who needed answers.

It wasn’t like Vasilios to second guess himself, and having already decided to put this plan in motion, there was nothing for it but to strike while the iron was hot.

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