like such a...a horrible bully?â
âPerhaps thatâs what Iâve become.â He gave her a casually brutal stare. âPerhaps thatâs what four and a half years in prison does to a man.â
Calistaâs expression tightened. âI donât even understand why you arenât still there. You were sentenced to eight years.â
âTime off for good behaviour.â His eyes glittered coldly. âYou see, I was a very good boy whilst I was in thereâas far as the authorities were concerned, that is. Now I intend to make up for it.â
He watched her swallow.
âI do hope my early release hasnât inconvenienced you?â
âIt hasnât. I couldnât care less where you are...what you do.â
âGood. Then get on the bike. We are going to Villa Helene.â
âNo, we are not.â Her hand flew to her chest. âIâm not going anywhere with you.â
âAnd there I was, hoping we wouldnât have to do this the hard way.â
Easily spanning her waist with his broad hands, Lukas lifted her off her feet and planted her unceremoniously on the pillion seat of the bike. The thin fabric of her skirt rode up over her thighs, pulling seductively taut, while her breasts heaved with indignation.
Lukas fought down the kick of lust.
âIf you donât get me off this thing right now I am going to scream.â
âFeel free.â He smiled darkly. âIt wonât make any difference. Your dear brothers, along with the other broken-hearted mourners, are already on their way back to the mainland. No one will hear you.â
He saw the flicker of fear in her eyes but she didnât move. Her pride refused to give him the satisfaction. And for some reason that only increased his admirationâand his arousal. Perched on the leather seat of his bike, she looked like some sort of erotic goddess, her back arched in defiance, her glorious Titian hair tumbling over her shoulders. The mourning veil, he noticed, had fallen to the dry ground at his feet.
âThereâs Petros...and Dorcas. Theyâre still on the island. Villa Melina is still their home.â
He gave her a telling look. That was something for him to decideânot her. Clearly she was forgetting who called the shots around here.
âLook...â She suddenly changed tack, trying for a conciliatory tone. âWhatâs this all about, anyway?â
âYou used to love this bike, Callie, donât you remember?â He deliberately used her shortened name, taking them back to the long hot summers of their shared past. âYou were forever pestering me for a ride.â
They had both loved this motorbikeâthe sleek black beast that had been Lukasâs sixteenth birthday present to himself. Heâd had other bikes since, and sports cars, luxury yachts, a helicopterâall the extravagant modes of transport that great wealth could afford. But nothing had surpassed the feeling of straddling this powerful beauty all those years ago, made even better by the feel of Callieâs skinny arms clinging to his waist as they had roared off, the sound of her excited squeals in his ear.
Coming across it in the garage this morning, just where he had left it, he had felt as if he were meeting an old friend. One old friend, at least, that hadnât let him down. She had obediently started first time after he had charged the battery.
âI think weâve both grown up since then.â Calista tossed back her flame-red hair, all sharp-angled defiance and dignified posturing. âOr at least I have.â
âIndeed... I wouldnât dispute that.â Lukas gave a derisive laugh. âI seem to remember we engaged in some very grown-up activity last time we met.â
Again she flushed, as if she found the memory of what they had done intensely shameful. As well she might.
âWell, thatâs not something that is going to be repeated, I can assure you. Despite your earlier threats.â
âNot threats, Calista. Think of it more as a promise.â
âYou are such an arrogant piece of work, Lukas, you know that?â Emerald eyes flashed with fire. âI promise you this: what happened between us will never happen again.â
âNo? Youâre sure about that, are you?â
âQuite sure.â
âThen coming back to my villa for a couple of hours wonât hurt, will it? Unless you donât trust yourself, of course?â
âI trust myself, Lukas. Itâs you I donât trust.â
âAh, yes, of course. I keep forgetting that Iâm the villain of the piece here.â
âYes, you are!â Calista immediately fired back at him.
He had to hand it to herâher acting skills had improved significantly over the years.
âIn that case let me reassure you that nothing will happen between us unless you want it to.â
Was that true? It should be. His well-rehearsed plan had always been to trick her into wanting him, just the way she had him. But if she carried on looking at him the way she was now he wasnât sure heâd be able to hang on to his control.
He studied her from beneath lowered lashes, lazily, slowing himself down. Unless he was very much mistaken there was something else in that fiery look of hers. For all her prim deportment, her expression of outrage, her feisty comebacks, something simmered beneath the surface. Something that looked remarkably like sexual arousal. Yes. He would have her screaming his name with pleasure before the day was through. And then revenge would be his.
Swinging his leg over the bike, he turned the key in the ignition, gripping the handlebars and feeling the mechanical vibrations rumble through him.
âIâd hang on if I were you.â Speaking over his shoulder he twisted the throttle and the engine roared in reply. âLetâs let this old girl off the leash and see what she can do.â
And with a sudden jolt and a screech they were off.
* * *
Calista had no choice but to wrap her arms around Lukasâs waist as they sped away from the cemetery, leaving its occupants in blissful peace as Lukas navigated the bike onto the coastal road that wound its way round the island. She leant her body into his, the wind whipping her hair back from her face, drying the breath in her throat as she clung on for dear life.
He was driving deliberately fast, she knew that, trying to frighten her, make her squeal. Well, she wasnât nine years old any more, and she certainly wasnât going to give him the satisfaction of behaving as if she was. In fact as soon
