she the only one who heard the ironic undertone in his words? She couldn’t tell; Thalia’s face showed nothing but Maria felt a tinge of heat wash into hers.
No, she told herself fiercely, no! She would not let him take control again. Determinedly, she shrugged free of his encircling arm and went down the stairs.
In December, the Aristan skies had been a brilliant blue and the day unseasonably warm. Now, in early February, the air held a distinct chill. Just as chilling was the sight of the uniformed chauffeur standing at attention beside a black limousine even more imposing than the one that had ferried them around New York.
A shudder went through her, and Alex immediately took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“I don’t need that,” she said, trying to shrug it away, but he clasped the collar, brought the edges together and, in doing so, drew her closer.
“But you do, agapimeni,” he said, smiling though the smile never reached his eyes. “Besides, didn’t you just tell me the first rule a mistress must follow is compliance?”
“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch,” Maria said coolly. “I’m not your mistress yet.”
His eyes grew darker than midnight.
“You will be, glyka mou,” he said huskily. “And very soon.”
He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and hooked it behind her ear. His gaze fell to her lips. Was he going to kiss her, despite the people watching from the top of the stairs and the chauffeur waiting beside the car?
If he did—if he did, she would stand straight and still within his arms and give him nothing in return.
“Did you hear what I said, Maria? An hour from now, you’ll be in my bed.”
Her pulse rocketed. It took all her strength to respond with what she hoped was a cool smile.
“Thank you for the warning, Your Highness. It’s always helpful to be prepared for something unpleasant.”
To her amazement, Alex laughed.
“Very nicely done.” His hands swept into her hair and he tilted her face to his. “But a sad little lie.” His smile faded. “Tell me how unpleasant it is after I have you undressed,” he whispered. “Say it when my mouth is at your breast, when it is between your thighs. Tell me then, glyka mou, and I might just believe you.”
She felt her nipples peak, felt the swift rush of desire spear low in her belly. He seemed to know what effect his words had because he bent his head and gave her a quick, possessive kiss.
“Get in the car, agapi mou,” he said, and the look of satisfaction on his hard, beautiful face made her wonder who she hated the most, Alex or herself.
The car moved swiftly through the streets of Ellos.
Alex was on his cell phone, talking softly as buildings flashed by. She recognized the small hotel she’d stayed at, the busy street where she’d first met him. The romantic restaurant he’d taken her to, the little park where he’d kissed her.
He’d told the truth, she thought, and drew a shaky breath. He’d have her in his bed very soon. His apartment was only a couple of blocks away.
But the car didn’t take the turn that would have brought them there.
Where was he taking her, then?
She threw him a glance. He’d put the phone away; he sat with his arms folded over his chest, looking distant and formidable, and she decided she’d sooner die than ask. Besides, what did it matter? Maybe he had rules for this kind of thing. Or maybe he didn’t want her in his apartment. Maybe there was another woman there already. Or maybe he preferred to keep his women in a hotel.
The limo swooped up a ramp and onto a highway. A sign in both Greek and English flashed by.
To the North Coast Beaches and the Bay of Apollonia.
Beaches? Bays? She was a city girl. Streets, noise, traffic were her natural habitat. Beaches and bays sounded foreign. Isolated.
“Aren’t we going to your apartment?”
She spoke without thinking, regretted it almost immediately, but Alex had a ready reply.
“We were, but I changed my mind. I’m taking you to a place where your compliance will be assured.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She thought of telling him he wasn’t funny but that would be a sign of surrender, and the last thing this man would have from her was surrender.
Her refusal to bend to his will was all she had left, and she was intent on keeping it.
The drive took what seemed a very long time.
They had reached the bay; the sign at the exit said so but the proof was in the spectacular view from a road that now hugged high, curving cliffs above sand so white it looked as if it were made of crushed pearls. Beyond that stretched a sea of deep, brilliant blue, so beautiful it took her breath away.
All right. She had to break her self-imposed silence.
“Is that the Bay of Apollonia?”
Alex nodded. “Named for the god, Apollo. Legend says that Virgil wrote a poem about this place some two thousand years ago.”
“Virgil? But he was Roman.”
“Aristo and its sister island, Calista, were first part of the Greek Empire and then were ruled by Rome. You’re familiar with Virgil?”
Maria stiffened. “I might not have had your tutors and private schools, Alexandros, but the New York City schools provided me with an excellent education.”
“I didn’t mean to imply …”
“Yes. You did. You don’t know a thing about me but you have no trouble jumping to all kinds of conclusions.”
“I might say the same of you, glyka mou.”
Maria looked at him. “You mean,” she said sweetly, “you didn’t have tutors? You didn’t go to private schools?”
“Well, no. I mean, I did—but I have to admit, I tuned out most of what I learned in Latin III, which was pretty much when we dealt with Virgil. I guess I’m just surprised you didn’t do the same.”
He grinned, and it instantly transformed him from cold despot to the gorgeous, easygoing man she’d met that night two months ago. She didn’t want that. Didn’t want to remember that night, how he’d made her feel when he’d made love to her.
“Anyway, yes, Virgil wrote about the Bay of Apollonia. He called it an ambrosial sea of sapphire.”
How could she not reply to that? Maria sighed and gazed out at the bay again.
“He was right,” she said softly, “though I’ve never seen a sapphire that magnificent. But if I
