Читать книгу Paradise Nights - Kelly Hunter - Страница 9

NICE? Nice? Pete Bennett had been called a lot of things by the women who sauntered through his life, but nice had never been one of them. It didn’t feel like a compliment. Okay, so he could, on occasion, be nice. Nothing wrong with that. But what if nice mutated into caring? What if caring morphed into really caring? Then where would he be?

Nope. Better to disabuse the bucket goddess of all nicehood fantasies immediately. Rolling his shoulders back for good measure, and with the spell she’d woven about him still clouding his mind somewhat, he headed across the courtyard after her.

The kitchen in the whitewashed cottage consisted of a fridge, a sink, a wall full of shelving laden with fresh food and a square central bench that doubled as a table. Simple, cosy, and, to Serena’s way of thinking, all about the food. She’d put a chicken—liberally seasoned with garlic and oregano—in the oven earlier, along with half a dozen salt-licked potatoes. A loaf of crusty bread and the fixings of a salad sat on the bench waiting to be sliced, diced, and tossed into a bowl just before serving. Serena came from a family of cooks, chefs, restaurateurs, and foodies. Cooking might not have been her first love, or even her second, but in her family there was no excuse for poor cooking.

Pete had followed her into the kitchen and now stood leaning against the doorframe. Judging by the dangerous gleam in his eyes, he’d used up his daily quota of nice on Sam. Serena didn’t mind a bit.

Nice was a bonus, certainly, but sexy, playful, and thoroughly entertaining would do just fine.

‘Call me curious,’ he said, ‘but if renting Vespas to tourists isn’t your lifelong ambition, why do it?’

‘Family,’ she muttered, taking a chunk of feta from the fridge and setting it on the bench alongside a wickedly sharp cutting knife. ‘All the grandchildren do a six-month stint helping out here. It’s my turn.’

‘What happens when all the grandchildren have had a turn? Does it rotate back to the beginning?’

‘Theoretically, that’s when the great-grandchildren step up. Unfortunately, the oldest great-grandchild is currently six and Nico and I are the last of the grandchildren. I think everyone was hoping one of us would fall in love with the lifestyle and offer to stay on indefinitely. Nico might,’ she said thoughtfully.

‘But not you?’

‘No. One more month and I’m gone.’

‘Where?’

“Well, now, that will depend on the jobs going at the time.’ And her chances of landing one of them. ‘I’m a photographer by trade. When it comes to education I majored in languages, with a slice of international politics on the side.’

He didn’t look as astonished as some. The ones who thought that, with a face like hers, she was far more likely to be on the other side of the camera. The ones who thought that, with a body like hers, brains were an unnecessary extra. ‘Right now I’m working on a postcard series for the Greek tourism authority but as soon as I finish my stint here I’ll be chasing a photojournalism slot, preferably with one of the global media groups.’

‘You’ll do well,’ he said.

‘I will?’ She couldn’t quite hide her astonishment. Not the usual reaction when she told someone her plans.

‘Yeah. Your looks will get you noticed, your intellect will tell you when there’s a story to chase, and your people skills will get you the information you need. It’s a good choice for someone with your particular skill set.’

Serena sliced the bread, sliced the cheese and stuck them together before holding it out to him with a smile. ‘Just for that you get an appetiser. Possibly even dessert.’

He took the sandwich with a grin. ‘I hear it’s a very competitive field. You’ll need ambition as well. How bad do you want it, Serena?’

Bad enough to have queried every major global newspaper and some not so global ones about upcoming positions every month for the last five months. ‘Trust me, I’ve got the ambition thing covered. Maybe in the past I’ve let family commitments keep me from pursuing this type of career, but not this time. This time I’m determined to get where I’m going.’

‘Just as soon as you get off this island,’ he said with a hint of dryness that she chose to ignore.

‘Exactly.’

‘So technically speaking, apart from the Vespas, the postcard photography, and keeping an eye on your grandparents, you’re a free agent this coming month.’

‘That’s me.’ Damn but he was appealing. ‘And my grandparents are visiting both sides of the family on the mainland at the moment. They left this morning, so you can count them out of the equation for a couple of months. You?’

‘I’ll be flying these skies until Tomas recovers the use of his leg. Six.eight weeks. Maybe longer.’

‘And then?’

He shrugged. ‘There’s an offer from an Australian mining company to run a charter-flight operation for them in Papua New Guinea. It’s a good offer.’

‘Yes, but is it ethical?’

‘What they’re doing or what I’d be doing?’ he countered with a quick smile, and Serena figured she had her answer.

‘So you flit,’ she said dryly. ‘From one flying job to another.’

‘I like to think there’s a big-picture plan somewhere in amongst it all,’ he said mildly.

‘Ever thought about settling down?’

‘You mean some place permanently or with a woman?’

‘Either.’

‘No.’

Serena closed her eyes, muttered a prayer. As far as potential short-term romantic interludes were concerned, the man was utterly, mouth-wateringly perfect.

‘Did you just whimper?’ he said, eyeing her closely. ‘I thought I heard someone whimper.’

‘No whimpering here.’ Much. ‘What can I get you to drink? Water, wine?’ She gestured towards the glass of white wine already on the bench. ‘I’m already set.’ She didn’t wait for an answer, just headed for the fridge. She thought it best to keep busy, keep that whimpering to an absolute minimum. Water, wine, she grabbed both and set them in front of him. ‘Help yourself.’

He did, reaching for a couple of tumblers on the shelf nearby before pouring water for them both. He snagged another glass, a wineglass this time, and filled that too, his fingers long and lean around the neck of the bottle … fingers that looked as if they could deliver anything a woman could possibly want, from a feather-light stroke to firm and knowing pressure in all the right places.

‘There it goes again,’ he said. ‘That sound.’

‘Could be the tabby cat hereabouts. She’s very noisy.’

Pete looked at the curled and sleeping cat over in the corner of the kitchen, her head firmly tucked beneath one paw. ‘You mean that cat?’

‘Yes.’ She said it with an utterly straight face and Pete’s admiration for her rose immeasurably. ‘That cat.’

They ate from the picnic table in the courtyard, with the cottage nestled into the hillside behind them and the sea spread out before them like a promise.

‘So how many brothers do you have?’ Pete asked between bites of truly divine roast chicken. Chicken like this could quite conceivably make a man change his mind on the issue of not wanting a woman to come home to each night.

Serena held up two fingers and he smiled. Two brothers and an overprotective cousin wasn’t so bad.

‘I saw that smile,’ she said darkly. ‘And if you figure you can handle them you’re wrong. They’re half Greek. And if you’re talking extended family—and with my family you should—I also have two brothers-in-law, a father, three uncles, and half a dozen male cousins my age or older. Nico is the most liberal-minded of the lot.’

‘Ah.’ That was quite a list of protective males. Doubtless she’d driven them insane during her teenage years. ‘Bet your first date went well.’

‘You have no idea,’ she muttered. ‘I thought he’d be all right. He had a very cool car and a bad-boy reputation. A smile that promised heaven. They were waiting for him out in the front yard when he came to pick me up. My father and my uncle.’ Her eyes flashed with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. ‘They’d brought home a fish from the morning’s catch and were gutting it when he pulled up. With ten inch boning knives.’

‘Sounds reasonable,’ said Pete. ‘Although I can see how you might consider the knives a touch melodramatic.’

‘It was a six-foot shark.’

‘Oh.’ He felt a smile coming on.

‘And don’t you dare laugh!’

‘No, ma’am. But I am impressed.’

‘We didn’t even get to the cinema. The poor boy took me to a burger drive-through, fed me hot chips and a sundae, and had me home within half an hour. He’s probably still running.’

‘Just for the record, I’d have bought you a burger as well.’ He topped up her wineglass, reached for another slice of bread. ‘I have three brothers, a father, and one sister. Hallie’s the youngest.’

‘No mother?’

‘Nope. She died when I was a kid. My father took it hard, pulled back. My brothers and I took over the raising of Hallie. You’d like her. You could swap stories. My youngest brother could get downright creative when it came to deterring her more persistent suitors. He works for Interpol these days. He’d have loved a shark as a prop.’

‘Are you sure you don’t have any Greek ancestry in you?’

‘Not a drop.’

‘What’s your position on trust and honour?’

‘As in Nico trusting me not to hit on you?’

She nodded.

‘It’s damn near killing me.’

Her smile sliced through him, wicked with challenge. ‘But you are sticking to it.’

‘Barely.’ The meal had more than satisfied Pete’s appetite for food, and dusk was warming up the crowd for the coming of night. The air lay heavy with the scent of jasmine and he was self-aware enough to know that if he didn’t leave soon his honour wouldn’t be worth a drachma. ‘Close your eyes,’ he told her. ‘Think back to that bad boy with his own car and a smile like a promise.’

‘Why?’ But she did as he asked, her back to the table, her elbows resting behind her, and her head tilted back a fraction as if to catch the moonlight.

‘Work with me here,’ he murmured. ‘You’ve been to the cinema and you’re on your way home. The car stereo’s blaring, the windows are down, the wind is in your hair, and your bad boy has forgotten all about your father’s shark-carving skills. He’s young and reckless, and so are you.’

Her lips curved. ‘And then?’

‘He pulls up outside your front yard.’

‘Does he stop the engine?’

‘No. He’s not insane. He’s planning on a quick getaway.’

Her eyes were still closed. ‘Where’s the shark?’

‘Your father and uncle are hauling the last of it into the freezer. The timing’s perfect.’

‘For what?’ she whispered.

‘This.’ He brushed his lips over hers, a fleeting touch, nothing more, and pulled away. He planned to end it then, to say goodnight and get the hell out of temptation’s way, but her eyes were still closed and before he knew it his lips were on hers again, questing, cajoling, because this time, this time he wanted a response.

He got one.

Serena had played his game because she wanted to. Because she was curious as to what this man with his come to bed eyes and go to hell grin could bring to an evening, a moment, a kiss.

He brought plenty.

A taste so wild and delicious she shuddered. A mouth so firm and knowing she responded instinctively, following his lead with lips and with tongue in a dance as old as time. She wanted more, slid her hand to his cheek, to the nape of his neck in search of it, taking the kiss deeper as she sought the recklessness in him, that piece of him that courted danger, revelled in it, and came back for more. She found it.

And the kiss turned wild.

He murmured something, a deep-chested rumble that sounded like a protest but felt like surrender, and took her under.

Her mind had clouded over by the time the kiss ended, the rapid pulsing of her blood at odds with the languid slide of her hand from around his neck. She leaned back, elbows on the table, and watched as he struggled to surface, clawing his way out of the kiss in much the same way she had, and not bothering to hide how hard he found it.

She liked that about him. She liked it a lot.

‘Damn but he’s gonna break some hearts, kissing like that,’ she murmured.

‘So are you.’

She made a small hum of pleasure. ‘Tell him to kiss me again.’

‘No. If he does he’ll be lost and he doesn’t want that. Besides, the porch light has just come on and it’s way past time to be leaving.’

‘Does he come back?’

‘Try keeping him away. It’s your first kiss, maybe his third, but from that moment on there’s a part of him that’ll always be yours.’

She smiled, enchanted by his whimsy.

‘Thank you for the meal,’ he said softly. ‘Serena?’

‘What?’

‘I’ll honour Nico’s trust in me tonight, but next time I see you I’ll be asking you out to dinner. I’ll be holding you at the end of the evening. I’ll be around these next few weeks. I’ll be taking up some of your free time.’

She liked his high-handedness. She liked it a lot.

‘And Serena?’ He stood and looked down at her, looking for all the world like a dark angel fallen straight from the sky. ‘I don’t give a damn how big the shark is.’