For the Greek Tycoon's Pleasure: The Greek's Pregnant Lover

Piper woke the next morning experiencing yet another set of contradictory feelings. As always, when she woke in Zephyr’s arms, she felt safe, cared for, cherished even. Only this morning, that sense of rightness fought with her new knowledge. The absolute certainty that Zephyr did not love her, the possibility that he never would and the probability that he would eventually walk away. At least from their sexual intimacy.

She hadn’t meant to fall in love, but she’d done it anyway. And looking back, she didn’t see how she could have stopped herself. Zephyr was all that she could desire in both a friend and a lover.

They shared many of the same interests. That’s how their friendship had started. She’d discovered he shared her love of European football. They watched the matches, rooting for opposite teams and yelling at the field officials in equal measure. Later, she’d learned he also found museums and art galleries as fascinating as she did, as well as being passionately interested in world politics just as she was.

He was more than a good friend, he was the best. He didn’t just enjoy the same interests she did, he cared about her and watched over her. He’d helped her build her business by recommending her to other developers, he’d even taken care of her once when she had the flu. He’d done his utmost to provide her a miniholiday and make it special. And he’d succeeded.

He treated her like a queen, never dismissing her intelligence or condescending to her. She snuggled into his strong arms, sensual pleasure running up her spine as he brushed his leg across her thigh in his sleep. And he made love to her like the world’s most accomplished gigolo. She could not forget that important little fact.

Imagining what Zephyr would think of being compared to a sexual mercenary, she had to smile. Rather than take offense, the arrogant tycoon would probably preen. His sexual prowess was a source of pride for him. If only he was as open to love as he was to making love, she would not be in such a quandary.

Unhappy with her thoughts and the conclusions she felt drawn to because of them, she lay beside him, watching his gorgeous face in repose.

A dark lock of his hair fell over his forehead, doing nothing to make him look less intimidating, even in sleep. She’d always heard even the most ruthless men looked younger and more vulnerable in their sleep, but not Zephyr. Although he was unconscious to the world, he still did not relax completely. He appeared ready to wake and jump into the crowded moments of his day at any moment.

Had he learned that type of subconscious awareness living with his mother in the seedy underworld of Athens, in the orphanage or on the streets, where he had fought for a chance at a worthwhile life? After their discussion at the Acropolis, aspects of his personality that had always intrigued her made more sense.

When she had first met Zephyr, she had believed he was a charming, rather laid-back businessman. Watching him in action at work, she had soon learned differently. While Zephyr appeared to be relaxed, even borderline indolent, he kept meticulous track of every aspect of his developments.

He had a knack for keeping even the most artistic temperament on track and on schedule. There was a certain element of ruthlessness she’d seen under the surface that never quite broke through his “let’s cooperate and get this job done” businessman’s façade. It only showed in a quick comment here, a directed instruction there, all delivered with that game-face smile she’d hated having directed at her during dinner the night before.

But when Zephyr Nikos spoke, everyone listened. Everyone. He was brilliant. He was wealthy. He was a true force to be reckoned with. Honestly? She wasn’t sure what he was doing with her, a woman struggling to build an interior design firm in Seattle after her ex-husband shredded her reputation in New York.

He might be fantastic for her, but she wasn’t really in his league, which only made their friendship that much more precious and their pseudo-lovers relationship that much more difficult to understand from his point of view.

Falling in love with him might have been inevitable, but getting involved sexually had not. She’d had a choice and she’d made it believing she could handle the limitations of what he was offering. She’d been mistaken. Spectacularly so. How could she have been so stupid? She really did pick badly when it came to choosing men to love.

First, there had been Art, who had seemed like the perfect source of stability, but who had in fact destroyed her security. Then, there was Zephyr, who seemed so charming and open on the surface, but who was actually more closed off than any man she had ever known.

He only lost control in one setting that she knew of—and she knew him as well as anyone, besides maybe Neo Stamos. Zephyr lost control when they made love.

He had from the very beginning, which was why she’d been so sure their intimacy would end up a one-off. He’d looked positively shell-shocked after that first time, his usually perfectly groomed hair askew, and his big body glistening with sweat. She’d been so turned on by his overall state of dishabille; she had initiated another round of lovemaking.

He’d acquiesced soon enough, but the next morning, she’d woken alone and they hadn’t mentioned the sex in any shape or form the next time they spoke. They’d been at the tail end of another job together when the sexual tension thrumming between them blew up into another bout of no-holds-barred sex.

And Piper realized now, that was when she had started really falling for the billionaire tycoon. No matter what she’d told herself at the time about commitment-free sex with a friend. She’d been allowed to see a side of Zephyr Nikos that he showed to no one else. Doing so had captured and enthralled her.

Even more so when he had admitted what she had already suspected to be true after his reaction to their first time—that he was not the same with other women. Unfortunately, Piper had allowed herself to build emotional ties on that flimsy pretext, while ominously lying to herself about what was going on in her own heart the whole time.

But was the pretext so flimsy?

Despite what his words the night before had implied, she was special to him. They were friends and he had few enough of those, no matter how he liked to tease Neo to the contrary. Piper and Zephyr’s sexual relationship had already lasted longer than any other one he’d had as well. And she already knew it drew out a side in Zephyr he did not regularly let loose.

So, in all three of those instances, she was not business as usual for the tycoon. Add that to the fact he was vacationing for the first time since she’d known him, with her and for her benefit, and it all added up to something special. Right?

Or was she grasping at straws as she had done with Art, not wanting to believe he was being unfaithful until confronted by irrefutable evidence?

One thing she knew, she wasn’t going to lie to herself any longer. She loved Zephyr. Irrevocably and unequivocally. More than she’d ever loved Art, and she suspected more than she could ever love another person. But if Zephyr could not, or would not, love her, then she needed to stop this thing between them before she had no hope of coming out of it with a healable heart.

The thought of letting Zephyr go hurt so badly, an involuntary whimper slipped past her lips. He didn’t wake up, but his arms tightened around her, only exacerbating the pain.

Because if she walked away from him, there would be no one there to comfort her.

And that led to her final decision. She wasn’t going to waste what might well be her last days with Zephyr as even a pseudo-lover grieving a loss that had not come yet. She would squeeze every bit of joy out of their time together in Greece that she could.

Zephyr woke to the wonderfully pleasant experience of Piper giving him a massage. He was on his stomach, his arms relaxed above his head and his legs stretched out under the light covering of a sheet. She sat on his upper thighs, having an effect on him that he doubted she was going for.

Or maybe not. Piper was the most open and adventurous lover he’d ever had.

It bothered him that her moving him around had not woken him. His ability to incorporate her touch into his dreams showed how deeply he trusted her. As did the secrets of his past he’d shared with her the day before.

He’d never been tempted to tell that story to another woman, and no other lover had been allowed to sleep in his bed, much less wake him with a massage. He’d thought he’d been so clever in pursuing a sexual relationship without strings with the only woman he had ever considered a true friend. Now, he realized that kind of thing led to intimacies he did not crave.

He had to get his relationship with Piper back onto an even keel, or end at least the sexual side of it. Friendship and sex. Nothing more, and certainly nothing so deep it led to true confessions. He’d started at the Plaka, the day before, buying her gifts and clamping down on that dangerous urge to talk.

She’d done him a favor waking him with the massage. It would lead to sex and that was something he could handle. He didn’t open his mouth to blurt out things better left unsaid when it was busy pleasuring her.

“Mmm…” He stretched under her kneading fingers, rubbing his cheek against the bottom sheet, taking in the scent of their lovemaking from the night before.

Call him earthy, but he loved that smell and often put off their morning shower so he could enjoy it.

“Like that?” Her voice was husky as if she was getting as much out of this as he was.

“Very much. Are you sure you’ve never gone to massage therapy school?”

“It’s one of my many natural talents.” Humor laced that sweetly husky voice.

“I admit, I am grateful for this particular talent.”

“As you should be. So, I’m the only person in your life with this particular talent?”

“I’ve never asked Neo if he likes to give massages.”

Soft laughter tinkled above him. “I’m having a hard time imagining that conversation.”

“You’re not the only one.”

“There are no other women in your life who know how to relax your muscles like this? I find that hard to believe.”

Was she fishing? He’d never asked her if she slept with other men, but he knew she didn’t. He didn’t make it a habit to sleep with more than one woman at a time, either. It led to messy complications, and he didn’t do messy. Though he was rarely with a woman long enough for it to become an issue, he still followed his own rules. His longest liaisons could be measured in months, not years.

“There are no other women in my life, at least none that I would allow in my bed,” he amended smartly.

After all, he had as many women working for him as men. Well, maybe not quite as many, but close. There weren’t a lot of female construction workers as a percentage overall, especially in countries outside the United States.

She stilled above him. “I’m your only…”

Her words trailed off as if she didn’t know how to term herself, and he could not help her. She wasn’t a girlfriend per se. She was a friend with whom he shared his body and bed. But it became obvious that she was definitely fishing.

He didn’t mind giving her the truth. “I haven’t had sex with another woman since the second time we made love.”

The first time had scared him shitless and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. To himself. But then he’d realized that he was just more physically attracted to Piper than he had been to other women. Add in their friendship and the sex was mind-blowing. He’d decided to enjoy it as long as it lasted.

Because sex never did. Experience had taught him that. Just as it had taught him that while love might be transitory, and family couldn’t necessarily be counted on, a true friend stuck with you through the years. He’d learned that from Neo.

Long after the sexual elements to their relationship were over, Zephyr had every expectation that he and Piper would continue to be friends.

“I’ve never asked for promises of fidelity.” She’d gone back to massaging the pleasantly loosening muscles of his lower back.

“And I’ve never offered them.” Because thanks to her ex, she would not believe them. “But if you are asking, I am telling you I don’t have sex with other women right now.”

“Because of me?”

“Because I have a rule about not having multiple sex partners at the same time,” he explained.

“Serial monogamy?”

“Yes. I never make promises, you know that, but while I am having sex with one woman, I do not seek out release elsewhere.”

“So, you haven’t been with anyone else but me since we started sleeping together.”

“Not since the second time, when I knew we would continue to have sex.” He’d had a one-night stand after the first time he and Piper had gotten together, when he’d hoped to make their explosive sex a single shot. The hookup had only confirmed that mediocre sex was no substitute for what he had with her right now.

“The first time?”

“Wasn’t planned and I wasn’t sure we should repeat it.”

“But you decided we should?” she asked softly.

“As did you.”

“Yes.”

“Once I realized you and I were going to have a prolonged sexual association, I stopped looking for that from anyone else.” He looked down at her seriously.

“Even when we went weeks between getting together?”

“I don’t break my own rules, Piper.” He was no oversexed adolescent who could not go a few nights, or weeks, without. It wasn’t always easy, especially when they spoke on the phone and his body reacted with the predictability of Pavlov’s dog, but a real man knew how to keep his zipper in the up position. Zephyr was nothing like his father.

Not one damn thing.

“Right.” She snorted a laugh.

Pleasure from the massage tried to melt Zephyr’s brain along with his muscular tension. “Yes, right,” he affirmed with emphasis.

But he doubted she believed him, which was why he’d never made promises of fidelity during their temporary sexual relationship. Arthur Bellingham deserved so much more than the small comeuppance Zephyr had engineered for him.

CHAPTER FOUR

“WHAT about you?” he asked, deciding he wanted confirmation of what his instincts told him to be true. “Do you seek sexual release elsewhere when we cannot connect?”

“No.” That was decisive enough.

“You made no promises, either,” he reminded her.

“No, I didn’t, but you’re something special. No other man could live up.”

“Nice to know.” Call him arrogant, but he had no trouble believing her.

Her hands moved down to his buttocks, digging with her knuckles into his rock-hard glutes.

“Damn.” He sighed. “That feels so good.”

“I’m enjoying it as much as you are.”

“I doubt that.” Though he liked hearing it.

“Touching you is always a pleasure.” The husky tenor was back in her voice.

Delicious. “Is this touching going to turn sexual?” he could not help hinting.

She scooted down his legs and her fingertips slid between them to caress the back of his balls. “Maybe.”

The minx.

He was already hard, but the pressure grew more urgent as her soft touches on his scrotum continued. “You’re on dangerous ground there, pethi mou.”

“Am I?” She was no longer sitting on him, but her knees were still on either side of his.

He took that as an invitation and flipped onto his back, his breath expelling in a hard gust at the sight of her naked body above him. “You are so damn beautiful.”

“You’re prejudiced.”

“You think so, glyka mou? I think you could have made millions as a model.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Did you just call me sweet?”

“My sweet. You’re learning Greek.”

“Just that one.”

Good. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to know he often called her his woman. It might sound like he meant something more than he did, but even if their sex wasn’t based in some foolish romantic commitment, he was a possessive guy. It was just the way he was made and sometimes, the words yineka mou slipped out. She was his, for now. Maybe he should be more circumspect. Now that she was learning what his Greek endearments meant.

His aching hard-on felt ready to explode, distracting him. He gave her his best cajoling look. “Ride me?”

Her stunning blue gaze went dark with passion as he’d known it would. “Do we have time?”

“Always.” They were not on a tight schedule, even if she wanted to visit more museums in one day than he usually saw in a year.

She didn’t require any more convincing, but moved into position above his bobbing erection. “You look ready to burst.”

“I feel it,” he choked out gutturally from between clenched teeth as her slick feminine flesh brushed against him.

She went to reach for a condom and he stayed her with a hand between her perfectly shaped breasts. “Neither of us has been with anyone else in almost two years. I’ve had two clean bills of health over that time.”

He knew she’d tested every six months for a couple of years after finding out Art was such a damn tomcat and wasn’t surprised when she said, “Me, too.”

“Then, let’s go bare.” She used the patch for birth control, so they didn’t need to worry about making a baby neither of them were ready for.

“Yes,” she breathed out, lowering her body so his hard length slid inside her moist channel.

He said that word that she always chided him for and had to fight the urge to surge upward with every ounce of self-control he had earned in his thirty-five years of life. She rewarded his restraint by dropping down and engulfing his entire length in her humid heat. Damn, massaging him had excited her.

She was slick with arousal and her inner muscles clenched at him in undeniable need. They moved together like animals mating and yet, not. Their supreme awareness of each other could be no less than human. Their gazes locked and never broke once during the wild ride.

The sensation of their bare skin moving together threw him into a convulsive climax, but he didn’t have to worry. She was right there with him, her head thrown back, her pleasure falling from her lips in a keening cry that tingled at the base of his spine.

This moment in time was perfection.

Zephyr surprised himself by enjoying their gluttonous day of museum-viewing. While he liked museums, he wouldn’t normally have planned an entire day around visiting as many as he could get to. However, Piper’s enthusiasm and fascination was catching. That was the only excuse he could make for how interested he was, even in exhibits that he had seen before as a child on group trips with the other children from the home.

He’d refused to use the term orphan because he hadn’t been one. He’d had both a mother and a father, even if neither had been willing to make him an important part of their life.

“This just goes to show that we repeat ourselves creatively. This would be considered ‘modern art’ by current art critics. If it hadn’t been dated as being more than four thousand years old.”

They were standing in front of an early Cycladic statue that did indeed look like something he might see in a gallery dedicated to modern artists. “It seems odd the statues would be so lacking in intricate detail when the pottery has such complicated patterns on it.”

“I’m sure someone hundreds of years from now will find it strange that our houses are built like cookie-cutter images of one another, but we are so particular about what goes inside them.”

He turned to her, laying a hand on her waist and not questioning the urge to do so. “You think so?”

“That, or they’ll postulate we only ate on plastic because plastic dishes are the only ones that survive that long.” Her azure eyes glittered with humor.

“We had stoneware in the home and you’re right. It didn’t last long.”

“My mom bought those unbreakable dishes, but nothing could prevent us kids losing them. The small square bowls made too good a shovel in a pinch.”

“I can just imagine you as a small child.”

“I was a terror.”

“But shy with strangers,” he guessed.

“Yep. Teachers never believed my mom about me until I’d organized my first boycott of the cafeteria’s no-name catsup. That stuff was nasty. Or had a petition going to reinstate outdoor school when budget cuts threatened that right of passage. It didn’t usually happen until my second year in school anyway.” She sounded altogether proud of herself.

“I see, you lulled the authority figures around you into complacency and then you sprang.”

“That’s about it.”

He laughed. “I have no problem seeing that.”

“Neither did my mother. School administrators were not so insightful.” Her eyes twinkled mischeviously. “Until after the fact.”

“I shudder to think what your children will be like.” Her daughters would be stubborn, her sons protective and both would be intelligent.

She gave him a strange look followed by a negligent shrug that wasn’t. Negligent. At least it didn’t seem so to him, but he didn’t ask her about it because she was already headed to the next display.

She stopped in front of a male kouros statue. “Nice to see Greek men haven’t changed in all these millennia.”

“I think I’m flattered.” The statue had seriously developed abs and thighs that could crack an opponent’s back in a wrestling match, ancient or modern. However, the genitals were nothing to write home about. “I hope you are not comparing certain aspects of my anatomy to his understated representation.”

She gave him a mocking little smile that made him want to do something that would turn that smile into a grin. “I read somewhere that the aspect of a statue’s form was deliberately underrepresented so the focus could be on the aesthetic rather than the sexual.”

“That, or the only men willing to be used as artists’ models had teeny weenies.”

Piper burst out laughing as he’d expected her to, drawing the attention of those around them. While most of it was indulgent, one serious-looking elderly man glared. And a young woman sent daggers Piper’s way, but he didn’t know if that was for her laughter or the fact she was so clearly with him.

The woman had given him an encouraging once-over when he and Piper had first arrived at the National Museum, but he had ignored her.

Once again, he turned his back on her and smiled down at his beautiful companion. “That is not something you have to worry about in my bed, no?”

“You, Zephyr Nikos, are a braggart. And a bad, bad man.” The laughter still laced her voice and he wanted to kiss its flavor from her lips, but he refrained.

Stealing a kiss at the Acropolis, he could get away with. But he’d get more than one glare at such a public display of affection in the National Museum. Greece was not America, or even England for that matter, when it came to love affairs being conducted in public. It was generally a far more conservative country.

That had never bothered him before, but he wanted to kiss his yineka. However, he refused to embarrass her.

He would make up for it and then some when they returned to their room later.

The next morning, Piper tried to gather her thoughts as hot water pelted down over her during her solitary shower. The day before, they’d both admitted to fidelity and agreed to stop using condoms. She’d wanted the illusion of deeper intimacy for what she was coming to accept would have to be their last tryst and had readily agreed.

Only later had she begun to wonder if those were the actions of a man who would never love her? At first, she’d discounted his assertion he hadn’t been with another woman since the second time they’d made love, but as the day wore on she’d asked herself why. And she hadn’t liked the answer. She would not let Art have that much control of her present, regardless of how his betrayal had hurt.