Bedded By Her Greek Lover: Mediterranean Lovers, #2

By Kate Hofman

She wasn’t looking for a new lover…
After the death of her abusive husband, author Nissa MacLean wanted nothing more than to enjoy the safety and solitude of her beach cottage and write. The only men who crossed her mind were those in her books. That is until her neighbor, Louise, invites Nissa to meet her brother, Alexander, who has come for a visit.  Alexander is the kind of man a woman dreams of late at night, the kind of love ‘em and leave ‘em man Nissa shouldn’t get involved with…rich, gorgeous, and only visiting.

He wanted more than money could buy…
Money couldn’t buy happiness, Alexander Karagiannis was living proof of that. Despite all his wealth, he couldn’t find the one thing he craved: Love. After years of living the rich, playboy life, he just wanted to settle down with someone who could love him for more than his bank account. When he meets Nissa, he’s shocked at the swiftness of his feelings and the intensity of his desire for her. More so when he finds himself proposing marriage soon after their first date. But Nissa’s past won’t allow her to trust easily, and hurtful secrets have a way of ruining new relationships…

Can Nissa and Alexander find a way to forgive and forget, or will their love flash and burn out before the summer is over ?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Hofman
• Release date: Aug 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781501485282

Book preview

Chapter 1.

North of Ocean Breeze, Florida

Louise Sinclair hastened to the ringing telephone as quickly as her badly sprained ankle allowed. Louise Sinclair.

The whining voice of her cleaning woman filled her with misgivings.

~Miz Sinclair, it’s Bernice. I’m awful sorry, but I won’t be able to come t’day. I seem to have some kinda ‘flu or sumthin’.~

Oh, Bernice, just when I’m trying to get the cottage ready for my brother’s arrival. Well, if you’re ill there’s no more to be said. Take care of yourself. I’ll see you when you’ re well again.

~Right, Miz Sinclair. I’m sorry— Bye for now.~

Bye, Bernice, sighed Louise, replacing the receiver. Aware of a sudden shooting pain in her ankle, she hastily sat down, lifting her foot onto another chair in the kitchen’s breakfast nook.

Today, of all days, she thought. I wanted everything to be so nice for Xandro. Look at that floor— 

There was a light tap at the kitchen door. Nissa MacLean, her neighbour, entered. She was loaded with shopping bags. When she saw Louise, clearly in pain, her smile faded.

"Good morning, Louise—or is it a good morning? You look not only in pain but downright upset."

In spite of her worries, Louise smiled at Nissa. Such a lovely young woman, she thought, taking in the willowy figure, graceful in pale blue shorts and a matching tank top. She watched as Nissa impatiently tossed back her mane of silky, honey-blonde hair, her eyes greener than usual as she glanced anxiously at her friend.

I picked up all the groceries and deli stuff you listed. I guess your brother is staying for several months? The stuff you had me buy—  Anyway, let me put it all away for you. I don’t think you should give that ankle a workout yet.

Thanks, Nissa, that’s a big help. Although Bernice more than offset your helpfulness.

Bernice? What’s she done?  Nissa tried to sound surprised, although she thought Bernice unreliable and lazy, often ‘ill’ on Fridays, probably to have a longer weekend with one of her boyfriends.

Louise frowned. She just called me, whining that she had ‘some kind of flu’ and couldn’t come today. Just when I want things to be so nice for Xandro. Will you look at this kitchen floor? 

To Nissa’s surprise and dismay, she saw that Louise was near tears. Well, her brother’s visit means so much to her. She decided to help Louise out. If that’s what’s worrying you, you can stop right now. I’ll just scrub your kitchen floor for you, with the speed of light. 

Nissa grabbed a plastic bucket from under the sink, dumping some Oxy-clean into it, and filling it with tepid water. She hunted around and found a pair of bright yellow rubber gloves and a brush. Kicking off her slides, she dragged the sudsy bucket over to the far corner, got down on hands and knees and began to scrub the floor’s Mexican tiles. She grinned at Louise. Good thing I’m wearing shorts.

Louise stared at her friend as if she had sprouted wings and a halo.

Nissa, how can I ever thank you for helping me out? Now I can go upstairs to check Xandro’s suite. I’ve this nagging feeling I forgot to put towels in his bathroom.

Nissa looked up from her scrubbing. You shouldn’t walk on that ankle, Louise. Let me do it later?

I’ll be careful, Nissa, I’ll hang on to the banister and sort of hop on my good foot. Thanks so very much.

De nada, said Nissa and went back to scrubbing.

She was over halfway through when the kitchen door opened and she found herself gazing at a pair of long, elegant feet in Gucci loafers, topped by impeccable trouser legs that seemed to go on forever. Alexander, she thought. That purring sound I heard must’ve been his car engine.

She looked up, way up. Louise’s brother is very tall. And gorgeous. Nissa thought she had never seen a more stunning man in her life—the epitome of tall, dark and dangerously handsome. As he looked down to her, his eyes were dark pools, half-hidden by long, luxuriant lashes. His nose was straight, with thin, sensitive nostrils and his mouth was pure seduction.

He lifted his hand to tame the heavy, blue-black hair ruffled by the wind. At last, Nissa found her voice.

"I meant to get the floor scrubbed before you came— you are Louise’s brother?"

Yes, I am.  One slim, winged brow lifted. The sound of his voice, deep, cultured and slightly impatient, brought Nissa back to the here and now.

I’m sorry. Let me put down some paper towels for you, so the still wet floor won’t damage those elegant Guccis.   She smiled.

Alexander raised one black brow a tad higher. Thank you.  He waited patiently for her to make a path for him with paper towels.

Trying to sound helpful, Nissa said, Louise will be down in a minute. There’s fresh coffee. Would you like a cup?

Alexander halted in his progress along the paper towel road, glancing back at Nissa. Yes, thank you, he said, continuing toward the living room.

Nissa had expected him to get his own coffee, but when she saw him walk on, she quickly got up from the floor, ripped off the yellow gloves, swiped at her dirty knees, and washed her hands. Straightening her shorts, she poured a cup of coffee for him. Nissa found a tray, adding a small sugar bowl and jug of cream, and entered the living room.

Alexander stood by the window, gazing out to the ocean. He thought how much he liked this small community of maybe a dozen cottages, right by the ocean and the beach. He remembered only two were occupied year-round — his sister’s and her neighbour’s, a writer, he recalled. He was brought out of his rêverie by the soft voice of the cleaning woman.

Here’s your coffee. 

He turned, glancing at her. Thank you, uh...Betty.  She nodded in his direction and hurried out.

When Nissa got back to the kitchen, she bent double with suppressed laughter. Clearly, Alexander thought she was Louise’s maid. To Nissa, this was hilariously amusing. On the other hand, who could blame him for thinking that? He found her on hands and knees, scrubbing. Looking decidedly dilapidated in a tank top and a pair of shorts that had seen better days.

Smiling to herself, she quickly finished the kitchen floor and left through the back door.

****

After lunch, Louise called Nissa, inviting her to come to tea at four.

Are you sure, Louise? I know how you’ve looked forward to having your brother with you.

That I have, but I want you to meet him. Please do come to tea.

If you’re sure, I will, said Nissa. "Would you like me to bring some of those madeleines you like so much?"

Nissa, you’re playing my song. Yes, please. Louise disconnected.

****

A few minutes after four, Nissa knocked at the kitchen door and entered. When Louise heard her friend, she called out, Nissa? We’re in the living room.

Nissa walked in, her eyes on Louise, peripheral vision taking note of Alexander getting to his feet, staring at her. Nissa was glad she had taken a little extra care getting dressed. She knew the soft green dress did wonders for her eyes, hinting at her slim, willowy figure without showcasing it. She thought that a man as sought-after as Alexander would get lots of come-ons. She was damned if she would join the club, however gorgeous he was.

Louise tried to rise, but Nissa forestalled her. Don’t get up, Louise.  Louise sank back into her chair, indicating her brother with one hand.

Nissa, my brother—my half-brother actually—Alexander Karagiannis. Xandro, this is my friend Nissa MacLean.

Still staring at Nissa, Alexander said, We’ve already met this morning, Louise, and— he turned to Nissa, his deep voice dismayed, I realize now that I was unforgivably rude to you.

Nissa shook her head at him, smiling. No, you weren’t. When you saw me scrubbing the kitchen floor, you understandably assumed that I was Louise’s cleaning woman. But you were scrupulously polite to me.

No, I wasn’t. I should’ve introduced myself.  Louise regarded her brother pensively. Xandro seemed discomfited, tense, perhaps for the first time in his life. He was probably upset at having offended her friend.

Nissa smiled again. I’m sure you would’ve introduced yourself if you’d realized I’m Louise’s friend, not the cleaning woman. Please don’t give it another thought.  She held out her hand, and he hastened to bring it to his lips.

He gazed into her eyes, which seemed to change colour from brownish gold to green. He slowly took in her heart-shaped face, her straight little nose, her generous mouth. She has the face of a mischievous angel, he thought, frowning at himself for this flight of fancy. He went on to notice her figure, discreetly hinted at by the deceptively simple dress with shoelace straps, under which she definitely couldn’t wear a bra. He thought her breasts were lovely. Silently, he reprimanded himself, Don’t look at her breasts, what’s the matter with you?

When Nissa smiled, showing even, white teeth, he wished they had started off on a better footing. She was bound to be offended by his attitude this morning. He frowned, surprisingly troubled. Ruefully, he reflected that it was exceedingly rare for him to feel that way, particularly about a woman. This woman intrigued him. Ah, yes. She surely did.

Nissa thought she could guess some of his thoughts, and decided to remedy the situation. She had felt an instant liking for him—much to her surprise—and didn’t want his embarrassment over this morning to prevent him from liking her, perhaps becoming a friend.

She smiled again. All right, let’s start over.

Alexander was surprised. Start over?

Why, yes, Alexander. We’ll do a replay of this morning.  She knelt on the living room floor by his feet and made scrubbing movements with her left hand. She gazed at his shoes, let her eyes slowly travel up his tall, rangy length and said, Uh— You’re Louise’s brother? I’m Nissa MacLean, her neighbour. Louise’s cleaning woman can’t come today, so I’m helping out. She smiled up at him and began to get up. Hastily he extended a hand, which she accepted, with a pleased little nod. After helping her to her feet, he seemed to be unaware that he continued to hold her hand. Nissa decided not to notice.

Now you, she said.

Me? Oh, yes, of course. May I introduce myself? I’m Alexander Karagiannis, Louise’s half-brother. As you will have guessed from our surnames, we have different fathers, but the same mother. I’ve come here for a long weekend on my way to a conference in Palm Beach. I remember Louise telling me that she had become friends with her neighbour, a writer of serious fiction. Would that be you? I don’t seem to recognize your name?

Nissa nodded, then smiled. Small wonder. I write under my married name of Nissa Devereaux.

Your married name? You’re a married lady?  Alexander felt a pang of dismay, regret. Instantly, he chided himself for it. What did it matter whether she was married or not, a woman he had just met and would probably never see again. Strangely, it did matter.

Nissa shook her head. No, I’m a widowed lady.  He knew it was ridiculous to feel his heart lift at this information, but it did.

He mused, Devereaux— But of course, I’ve read your books.

Have you really?  Nissa was surprised. She was a reasonably successful writer, but under no illusion as to the magnitude of her fame among the reading public.

Alexander gave her a brilliant smile, showing dazzling white teeth.

"Yes. You wrote Dawn’s Early Light—I loved that book."

You did?  Nissa was deeply pleased. I’m so glad. It’s my own favorite.

It was on the USA Today best-sellers list for a long time, he added.

Two weeks—the only book of mine ever to make it.  She gave a slight, deprecating shrug.

Alexander bent his dark head toward her. If you’ll forgive me, there’s something I don’t understand. You write under your married name, but after you were widowed you took back your maiden name in private life?

Nissa nodded. You see, when my first book was accepted by Swanage & DeVilliers I was just married, so I used Devereaux. Then, when I was widowed, I took back my maiden name. That’s a lot easier in private life than in the book-world. So I have to continue writing as Nissa Devereaux.

He wondered why she had taken back her maiden name, but realized this was not something he could ask. Perhaps Louise knew.

Louise coughed theatrically. Xandro? Nissa? You’re here to have tea. Wouldn’t you both be more comfortable sitting down and having a cup?

Alexander grinned at his sister, slowly becoming aware that he was still holding Nissa’s hand. He was surprised at his reluctance to let go of it.

Nissa said, Louise, please forgive my rudeness? It was just that—when we were talking—

Louise smiled at her. Nothing to forgive, Nissa.  She thought it was the first time she had seen her friend talking to a man in more than a few polite words, before ducking out quietly. Well, of course Xandro had read her books. Even so— 

Alexander gestured to his sister’s sofa, and Nissa seated herself. He sat down beside her, but not so close that she could feel his presence as disturbing.

That’s the first time I’ve taken care not to sit too close to a woman so I wouldn’t spook her. Usually I seat myself well away to prevent a woman coming on to me.

Louise poured tea—Alexander hastened to take Nissa’s cup over to her. When Louise offered Nissa’s madeleines, he shook his head, too interested in pursuing his conversation with Nissa to waste time eating.

He turned to Nissa. "When I read Dawn, I was intrigued by your first name, Nissa. It’s Greek for ‘a new beginning’—how did you come by it? I thought it so unusual for an American woman with a French surname."

Ah, but that was only my married name. As I said, I go by my own name, MacLean—Scottish. That’s what my ancestry is, except for a Greek maternal grandmother, for whom I was named.

He was intrigued. Tell me, do you speak any Greek?

Nissa shrugged delicately. When I was small, and spent a lot of time with my grandmother, yes. But, you know how that is. Once she died, I lost my fluency, although I can still understand Greek fairly well. Of course I can neither write nor read it. My grandmother died when I was five.  She sighed.

Alexander was astonished to hear himself say, "I’d like to invite you to Asteraki, my island in Greece, the next time Louise visits there? You’d soon pick up the language again."  Peripherally, he was aware that Louise was staring at him. To his pleased surprise, Nissa gave him a dreamy look from under her long lashes.

She sighed, "Greece—  You have a whole island? Asteraki—little star. Oh, I’d love to, some time—if you’re sure it wouldn’t be an inconvenience, having me along with Louise?"

He smiled, delighted with her response. It’s a very small island, he said. "And you couldn’t possibly be an inconvenience. It will be a great pleasure for me to show you Asteraki. A very great pleasure."

****

Close to five o’clock, Nissa decided to take her leave. Louise, thank you for inviting me. I’ve had a most enjoyable afternoon. 

Louise teased, Why the hurry? You’ve got a hot date tonight?

Nissa smiled. Yes, with my laptop. 

Alexander sighed, aware he had held his breath when his sister asked if Nissa had a hot date. He frowned. What was the matter with him? Perhaps he should not have refused that actress—what was her name again? Chantal? Yes, Chantal Deslauriers. Of course, he was as interested in sex as the next man, but she was far too blatant for his taste when, within minutes of meeting him at that charity dinner, she casually proposed a night of unbridled sex. He recalled her outrage when he said he never did one-night-stands.

He remembered with derision her dismay when he spoke French to her. And the cutting tone of the fat, balding man on Chantal’s’s other side, who informed him—and the rest of the table—that Chantal’s birth name was Dulcie Potts.

Alexander became aware that Nissa was getting up and immediately got to his feet.

Will you allow me to see you home? he asked.

Surprised and pleased, Nissa said, Thank you, but I live nearby—

Then I’ll be back here very quickly, he said, lifting a slim, winged brow. She said goodbye to Louise and walked to the back door, which he held open for her.

Nissa was deeply conscious of Alexander’s hand at her waist, his long fingers spread out over her spine, guiding her ahead of him. Once they were outside, he did not remove his hand, and its warmth felt soothing to her. She thought it was the first time since before she was married that a man’s touch had soothed and pleased her.

Where to? he asked, and Nissa indicated a clapboard cottage some distance away. Its wood had naturally weathered over time to an attractive silvery-pewter.

When they were closer, she said, "It’s much smaller than Louise’s, but it’s enough for