Pollyanna and the Greek Billionaire (Innocent and Betrayed) Read online

  She looked at him doubtfully, as if waiting for the catch.

  Smart of her, Kyr thought. Maybe she wasn’t that much of an idiot, after all. He continued easily, “It won’t cost you a thing, and it comes with free food as well as a ride on my yacht.”

  Her eyes went wide, and her lips opened and closed.

  She looked, Kyr thought in amusement, very much like a blowfish.

  “Did you just say ‘yacht?’” Her voice was faint.

  He didn’t answer and simply waited for the inevitable.

  And to her credit, she was able to figure out the truth in the next second. “You’re not…Chris, aren’t you?”

  “No.” He gave her a devastating smile, and Kyr wasn’t surprised at all that the girl reacted to it like all the others did. The only difference was that her blush seemed genuine enough.

  “Who are you then?” she stammered.

  “Does it matter?” Excitement was starting to stir in his blood in a way that he had not felt in years. He thought about how she would react to the other things he could show her, in the most intimate ways, and his excitement deepened.

  In front of him, she was giving him another one of her ‘blowfish’ looks, and Kyr nearly smirked. A very cute blowfish she made, but it was still a blowfish, and he had never met a woman who could be so unguarded with her expressions like this one was.

  “Of course it matters,” she was arguing with him. “I’m not that stupid. I won’t go anywhere with a stranger, especially someone like you.”

  He raised a brow. “Someone like me?”

  “Too rich for your own good,” she spelled out before hurrying to add red-faced, “No offense meant.”

  Kyr mentally rolled his eyes. Didn’t she know that insults lost their power when they were followed by apologies? Pulling out his phone from his board shorts’ pocket, he dialed a number and when it started to ring, he handed it to her. “He will vouch for me.”

  “Who is it?” Her tone was extremely suspicious.

  Instead of answering, he deliberately surprised her by taking her hand, gently but firmly forcing her slender fingers to open so he could place his iPhone in her palm. “I’ll be waiting by the yacht.” He started walking away.

  She gasped. “You are so—”

  “And this time, I’ll give you…” He paused then said generously, “Two minutes.” He heard her gasp again, the sound teeming with frustration, and this time it did make him smile.

  Chapter Two

  “Master Kyrillos?” The voice that answered the call on the stranger’s phone – the stranger who was not Chris – was immediately familiar to Pollyanna.

  “Abram?” she gasped.

  The voice on the other end of the line gasped as well. “Is that you, Polly?”

  It was Abram!

  “Oh God, Polly,” Abram groaned. “Why do you have Master Kyr’s phone? What did you do?”

  She didn’t know whether to feel confused or insulted. Why was he assuming this was her fault? And Master Kyr? Who the heck was—

  Pollyanna froze.

  Wasn’t the name of Teleios’ reclusive owner…Kyrillos Gazis?

  “Polly? Are you there?”

  Paling, she whispered through dry lips, “A-Abram, am I using Kyrillos Gazis’ phone?”

  “Yes.” Abram’s tone was miserable. “What did you do, Polly?”

  She was beginning to feel faint. “I think I…” She couldn’t think straight, too busy trying to recall the things she had said. Had she unintentionally insulted him in any way? What if he got back at Abram because of it? Or even Ezio and Dinah?

  She suddenly remembered what she told him about Chris loaning Abram’s gear to her, and she whispered, “I think I got you into trouble.”

  There was an audible gulp, but Abram answered her bravely, “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not your fault.”

  “It is,” she countered guiltily. “I thought he was Chris, you see, and I told him what you told me, so now he knows, and…” She winced at the way Abram let out a girlish squeak of terror.

  “The thing is, Polly, I lied, too,” Abram admitted in a low, shamed voice. “I really don’t have any gear there, but Chris is my bud, and…” His voice trailed off.

  Feeling bad for Abram, Pollyanna forgot about her own worries and squared her shoulders, saying, “I’ll make things right, I promise.”

  “But Polly, Master Kyrillos isn’t the type—”

  She hurriedly cut him off, saying, “I, umm, got to go. I’ll call you later, okay?” The truth was, she didn’t want to hear anything discouraging about the island’s owner. She was already nervous as it was. She didn’t need to know more terrifying things about Kyrillos Gazis.

  And then she belatedly remembered the warning issued to her.

  Two minutes…and she had what left?

  Thirty or twenty seconds?

  “You almost didn’t make it.” His tone was lazily amused, and pure wickedness gleamed in his compelling hazel eyes as he watched Pollyanna climb up into his yacht, collapse on the deck, and fight to catch her breath afterwards.

  She wanted to kill him, but she was too tired to lift a muscle. Getting to his yacht in half a minute was no joke, especially when he had it moored a short distance away from the shore.

  Still flat on her back on his deck, she opened her eyes and told him hopefully, “You can’t be as evil as you seem to be, right?”

  Kyrillos Gazis only smiled. Bending down to take his phone from her hands, he asked with sham concern, “Has Abram allayed all your fears then?”

  She made a face at him. “You. Know. He. Would.” But her retort sounded a thousand times lamer than it should have been, with the way she was still trying to catch her breath. I’m going to exercise more after this, Pollyanna vowed to herself.

  With her expressive face revealing her every thought, Kyr struggled to rein in his amusement. When he was certain he could speak evenly, he said, “Follow me, please. And I’ll give you just thirty seconds to stand up this time.”

  Pollyanna groaned, but knowing she was in no position to argue, she forced herself to move. “Tyrant,” she muttered under her breath.

  “I heard that,” he said over his shoulder.

  “You were meant to,” she retorted.

  He laughed.

  As Pollyanna followed behind him, she tried to rack her brains of whatever she knew about Kyrillos Gazis. A billionaire, she thought after a moment. She had definitely read somewhere that he was a billionaire. But unlike other billionaires, he was no playboy, she also recalled reading.

  “Are you really not a playboy?” she blurted out loud.

  Kyr almost lost his footing at the unexpected question. Halting in his tracks, he spun to face her. “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry,” she said awkwardly. “I was just curious.”

  He raised a brow. “Do you want me to be a playboy?”

  It was her turn to be shocked. “Uh…” What kind of question was that? She couldn’t even imagine any other boy she knew who would think of asking the same thing. It was just so…

  Manly.

  The word came out of nowhere, but she knew, as soon as she thought it, that there was no better way to describe him.

  Her gaze met the billionaire’s, and what she saw in his eyes made Pollyanna feel the strangest thing.

  It started as the faintest tingle, but the electrifying sensation spread swiftly all over her body until she was almost beside herself with restlessness. She suddenly felt empty and aching and she didn’t understand why. Her breasts also felt different, like they were heavy and swollen, like they had to be…what?

  A shadow fell over her, and she gasped upon finding that the billionaire was standing right in front of her, so close that she smelled the scent of his aftershave, something masculine and exotic, which was exactly what he was.

  This close, she became even more aware at how extraordinarily beautiful he was, like someone who was created to prove that Greek gods did exist. Those e
yes were too intensely sexy, that nose too aristocratic, and his cheekbones to die for. His jawline was strong and hard, and oh Lord, let her not get started on the perfect shape of his lips—

  Wait. A. Minute.

  Where were all these horrendously shameful thoughts coming from?

  Her eyes flew to the billionaire’s in miserable confusion, and oh, dear Lord, was it just her imagination or were those hazel eyes of his smirking at her knowingly?

  One thing became clear to her then.

  She had to leave before things got any…stranger.

  “I, uh, just remembered something, uh…”

  But just as she turned around, desperate to leave before she did anything stupid – which Pollyanna was terrified she was bound to do in the billionaire’s strangely hypnotic presence – she heard him say, “You haven’t answered my question.” His voice was seductively low, and dear Lord, the only time she heard someone who could speak like that without sounding like a conceited loser was when she was watching a George Clooney movie. That actor could speak a mixture of African-Chinese and still make it sound as sexy as French.

  And yet, Pollyanna thought with a gulp, the Hollywood actor had never managed to make her heart beat so hard and loud like the Greek billionaire behind her.

  Without a word, she started walking away, intending to leave the yacht. But as soon as she took a step forward, she sensed Kyrillos Gazis coming after her, moving slowly but steadily like a predator deadly methodical in its pursuit.

  She panicked and quickened her steps, stammering, “I really have to—”

  Caught.

  His hands, large, strong, and so unbelievably hot, settled on her slim shoulders from behind. His touch set her on fire, and Pollyanna stumbled to a stop. Oh dear Lord, what was happening? Was this how being seduced felt?

  Again, she sensed him taking a step closer, and then his breath was tickling her ear as he commanded, “Tell me your name.”

  Her knees were wobbling precariously by the time he finished speaking, and she whispered helplessly, “Pollyanna.” A part of her thought he was being too high-handed, demanding her name rather than asking nicely for it, but a larger part of Pollyanna didn’t care at all. All this latter part of her cared about was how he made her feel so…strangely…alive.

  Again, the same question popped in her mind, and this time, she blurted it out, unable to stop herself.

  “Am I being seduced?”

  Kyr managed to swallow back a laugh at the unexpected question. Theo. This girl was like no one he had ever met. Instead of giving her a straight answer, he decided to shock her again. Bending close, he gently nipped the curve of her ear, and as she shuddered violently, he asked in a soft, mocking voice, “What do you think?”

  Oh. Dear. Lord.

  What had she gotten herself into?

  Behind her, the billionaire released her ear but did not step back. Instead, his voice continued to caress her as he said, “I’ll ask you again, Pollyanna. Do you want me to be a playboy…around you?”

  She gulped.

  Did she? Or did she not?

  Closing her eyes, she gave herself a moment, allowing her wildest fantasies to come to life and beguile her into taking a risk. Let him be a playboy. Let him try to seduce her. Because that would be fun, wouldn’t it? The kind of fun only a gorgeous, sexy billionaire like Kyrillos Gazis could provide.

  But then the moment ended, and Pollyanna knew that the dream would have to do.

  So she said shakily, “No.”

  Chapter Three

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Kyrillos Gazis muttered a week later.

  Pollyanna privately thought the same, but since admitting it out loud could backfire, she answered with rare diplomacy, saying placidly, “It could be my kindness rubbing off on you.”

  The Greek billionaire shot her a dirty look, and Pollyanna hastily smothered the smile trying to form on her lips. It was barely seven on a beautiful Saturday morning, and everyone in the island would probably be shocked to speechlessness to find out that Teleios’ high and mighty owner had spent the last sixty minutes in her company, cutting stems and thorns from the latest crop of roses she was tasked to gather.

  As Kyr bent down and resumed working, Pollyanna was given another chance to stare at him, and stare she did, with a combination of wistful longing and misery. She had never thought it was possible to feel deliriously happy and devastatingly sad at the same time, but one week’s worth of being in the company of the island’s owner had proved it to be true.

  For some reason, the Greek billionaire seemed to enjoy her company, and it was in fact why he had deigned – his exact choice of word – to help her with this morning’s chores.

  With Ezio down with a migraine, Pollyanna had told Kyr regretfully that she would have to cancel on today’s activity. Aside from gathering flowers, she also had to prepare them for deliveries and perform the other tasks that Ezio wouldn’t be able to take care of.

  Kyr had simply hung up after her forlorn speech, and she had still been struggling to sniff back her tears when he showed up at the fields, dressed for field duties.

  It had been an incredibly touching sight, and if she hadn’t been convinced that she was in love with him, well, that had totally underscored the nature of her feelings.

  Kyr suddenly turned towards her, catching Pollyanna staring at him. His lips curved in a knowing smirk, and she felt her cheeks heating in response.

  “Like what you’re looking at?” His tone was all sexy arrogance.

  Her flush deepened, and she asked in a mixture of exasperation and genuine amazement, “How can you be so immodest?”

  But this only made the billionaire throw his head back in laughter, the sound as irresistible as the rest of him.

  When they were done, it was almost nine in the morning and she invited unthinkingly, “Would you like to come back to the house and have a drink first?”

  The billionaire’s gaze became hooded. “Thank you for the offer, psaraki, but I’m good at waiting here.”

  Oh. She had forgotten again. Forcing a smile, she said, “Then I’ll just be as quick as I can.” Taking the two huge baskets of roses with her, she hurried away, fighting back tears all the while.

  Kyr looked after her broodingly, knowing that he had hurt her again. But there was nothing he could do. He would never set foot back in the Floros’ household, not even for someone as genuinely, naively nice as Pollyanna.

  While waiting for Polly’s return, Kyr absently cast his mind back on the past seven days. Ever since their accidental meeting by the beach, he had found himself spending all of his free time with the eighteen-year-old girl…platonically.

  After her shocking the hell out of him by choosing to be with his “non-playboy” side, Kyr had shocked himself even more by still wanting to get to know her. That first day, he had taken her to the best spot for snorkeling and, afterwards, had invited her to dinner.

  Which she had refused, Kyr thought, the memory still stinging a little.

  Her eyes sorrowful, she had told him regretfully that she had promised to have dinner with her godparents, so could they take a rain check on it instead?

  Yes, of course, he had agreed. What else was there to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a selfish bastard? But he had also thought to ask who her godparents were, and that was when he found out she was living with Ana’s parents.

  Of all the fucking people in the world, she had to be with the two persons on the island he didn’t want to have anything to do with.

  And that should have been his cue to get the fuck out of her life, Kyr knew. The moment he found out about her connection to the Floros, he should have ended it then and there.

  But he hadn’t.

  Instead, he had let it go on. The second day, they had gone horseback riding, their pace relaxed as Kyr gave her a tour of his island while peppering her with questions.

  Where was she from? Arkansas.

  Was she an only child? Yes
.

  Was she spoiled? No.

  What did she plan after the summer? Attend college.

  She had never hesitated to answer any of his questions until they came to her age. This, she had answered hesitantly, as if afraid that her age would offend him.

  It didn’t, but it had made Kyr feel momentarily uneasy.

  She had just turned eighteen this year.

  Eighteen, and he was twenty-eight, a good decade older than she was.

  And that had been the second sign.

  She’s too young for you, Kyrillos Gazis, his conscience had warned him. It urged him to leave her, but again he had refused to listen.

  The third day, he had taken her to the island’s main museum, which exhibited photos of Teleios’ most famous guests. It was a near accurate display, and the only thing it lacked was a photo of her, one of Hollywood’s highest-paid actresses today.

  The fourth day, he had gotten Pollyanna to ride the island’s submarine, an activity patterned after an attraction he had experienced in Hawaii. And this was the time he had found out she was claustrophobic.

  Why didn’t you tell me, Kyr had burst out furiously when he realized what was wrong. He had been about to drag her back to the surface when she held his arm, and her touch – the very first time she had initiated contact between them – had immobilized him.

  I really want to enjoy this, please, she had pleaded.

  How are you going to enjoy this when you look like you’re about to faint any second, he had demanded incredulously.

  To which she had answered with a ghost of smile, Easy. Let me ask the questions this time.

  What was his favorite color? Blue.

  What was his favorite drink? Water.

  What was his favorite movie? The Langoliers.

  What was his favorite book? The Call of the Cthulu.

  Those questions had been the third sign.

  Any other girl would have asked him about his fame and wealth. What was his net worth? How many countries had he visited? Did he have his own jet? What were the names of his most famous friends?