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From Her Greek Tycoon, a novel in the TEN BRIDES FOR TEN HOT GUYS

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Chapter One

Revenge would taste sweet. Yet Stefano Kostapoulos sought no revenge. A sad page of his family’s history needed to be turned once and for all. We will forget the past, he vowed.

Jaws locked in anger, he scanned the one-story brick house hunkered down on a dune facing the Aegean Sea. A useless shack, frozen in time and abandoned. How he hated the old villa that spoiled the beauty of Mykonos Island.

His lips still curving in disdain, he slowly squinted. Not that frozen or abandoned, if he was to believe the sight suddenly offered by his binoculars.

The wrought-iron gate leading to the dilapidated yard slowly opened. And…

No way.

A beach bag in her hand, a young woman came out and closed the gate behind her.

What was going on there? No one had stepped into the Pink Villa since his grandmother Elena became so sick four months ago.

His fingers tightened on his marine vision tool.

Unable to believe his eyes, Stefano slapped his free palm on the railing at the bow of his yacht and leaned forward. His breath caught in his throat.

“I’ll…be…damned.”

The woman was a vision. Aphrodite in a green sarong. Her reddish blond hair cascaded down her back in a glorious mane. Stefano extended his arm—a wishful gesture to catch the curly strands flying in the gentle breeze.

Raising his binoculars, he followed the alluring sway of her hips as she crossed the street, ambled along the boardwalk, and stepped onto the sand. After a short pause, she sauntered toward a striped umbrella and dropped her bag on a vacant lounge chair under the shade.

Without wasting another minute, Stefano unhooked his phone from his belt and punched in his lawyer’s number.

“Kalimera, Ted, good morning. I’m on the Athena. I saw a woman coming out of the old house. Should we anticipate trouble?”

“I haven’t heard anything from my American counterpart.” A shuffling noise indicated Ted was searching through his notes. After a few seconds of silence, he cleared his throat. “This woman may be a cleaning maid.”

Stefano brought the binoculars back to his eyes for a thorough check. Poise and natural elegance emanated from the young woman.

“Too classy, with a figure to damn a saint, and hair about to set the beach on fire. Definitely no maid here.”

On the other end of the phone line, a burst of laughter interrupted his enthusiastic description. “Sounds like you’re already on fire. Take a cold drink while I make a few phone calls. I’ll get back to you.”

“See that you do. Tomorrow we have to win our case in court and get a permit to demolish the dump. I don’t want any surprises.” Breathing deeply to calm his growing nervousness, he inhaled the salty air of the Mediterranean Sea and hooked the cell phone to his belt.

Determined to keep a vigil on the potential threat created by the presence of a stranger in his grandmother’s house—and what a stranger—Stefano lifted the binoculars again and surveyed the scenario unfolding on the shore.

The young woman untied her beach wrap to reveal perfect curves molded by the bikini like a second skin and then she threw her cover on the back of the lounge chair.

“Lovely.” The word escaped him with a groan. Stefano blinked, assessing and admiring.

Aphrodite’s hands slid behind her back and remained hidden for a good moment. What was she up to? She turned around. This time he could see her profile and her fingers clasped on the hook of her bikini top.

With impatient twists, he fiddled with his binoculars. To no avail. It was already in perfect focus. Eyes narrowed, Stefano stiffened and zeroed in his attention on the beach.

Her head swiveled right then left. Was she scanning the stretch of sand carpeted with topless sunbathers? Guessing the woman’s intention, he swallowed hard.

Take it off or not take it off? What a dilemma.

She must be a foreigner. Probably a bashful American on her first visit to Greece. No doubt about it. A European beauty wouldn’t have hesitated to remove her bra on a beach where topless was the norm and full bathing suits the exception.

His senses on alert, Stefano stilled and focused. Would she shy away from revealing herself or follow the locals’ example?

Her breasts swelled and rose while she seemed to struggle with her thoughts. Her fingers clenched behind her back on the thin strip of material. With a swift gesture, she unhooked the clasp, snatched the bikini top off, and crumpled it in her palm.

Stefano sucked in his breath. Simply gorgeous. His hands fisted, and flexed, and he almost dropped his binoculars.

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