Marie Donovan - My Sexy Greek Summer

Why was redheaded Cara here and not at an obnoxious tourist bar? Niko had tried to convince him to go to one of them since Niko had a thing for blondes, but Yannis had not wanted the lights and noise tonight.

Not to say he hadn’t planned to find Cara. He had seen her shopping bag from the store where his cousin Niki worked and would have asked Niki about her tomorrow.

“Yannis!” Niko thumped him on the shoulder and ordered two white wines, what the blond girl had been drinking. While the bartender poured, Niko leaned his back on the bar and rested his elbows on top. “You’re a great friend, man.” His grin spread from ear to ear.

“What for?”

“For picking such a great place tonight.”

They’d both been there dozens of times. “Glad I could find you your blond girl.” Not really. Niko put too much store in looks. “It’s been, what? A couple weeks since the last?”

“Yeah, Monika went back to Sweden in May. I’ve been lonely ever since.”

Yannis shrugged. Niko liked the tourist girls because one, they left for home before things got awkward; two, they weren’t related to him as half the girls on Aphrodisias were; and three, his mother was certainly not going to pressure him to marry some foreigner from Scandinavia, Great Britain, or God forbid, America.

The bartender passed them the wineglasses, and the men paid. Niko took a sip from his white and grimaced. “Give me a beer anytime.”

“So get a beer.” That actually sounded good to Yannis, so he ordered one.

Niko shook his head. “No, the girls like it if you drink the same thing they are. Makes you look more compatible.”

“Whatever.” Yannis reached into his pocket to pay for his beer, but Niko tossed some euros on the bar.

“This one’s on me—as a thanks for distracting that redhead so I can get a little alone time with Emma.”

“What?” Yannis set his bottle down on the bar with a decided thunk. “You think I’m talking with her as a favor to you?”

“Why else? It’s not like you can see her body under that awful dress, and her hair’s so red and pulled into that braid thingie.” Niko made a face.

Well, if Niko couldn’t see anything but blatant charms, Yannis wasn’t about to point out the generous curves of Cara’s breasts and hips that even that dress couldn’t hide. And as for her hair…it was the color of the sun as it set over the western coast. Loose, it would drape over her pale shoulders like the painting of Aphrodite rising from the sea that he’d seen on a trip to Florence.

Yannis picked up his beer and Cara’s wine. “Let’s get back to the ladies, shall we? They might think we’ve ditched them and left.”

Niko’s look of alarm was almost amusing enough to distract him from his lustful thoughts of Cara. Almost, but not quite.

“WOW, CARA, you really picked a great place tonight.” Emma had stars in her eyes. “This Nick guy is so-o-o-o cute.”

“Great.” This was not what Cara had planned. None of it. Vespa-Boy had a name—Yannis Petrides.

Cara listened halfheartedly while Emma chattered about Nick’s manly charms. “Don’t you think that sounds fun, Cara?”

“What?” Cara dragged her thoughts away from Yannis and focused on her friend.

“Double-dating. Maybe if tonight goes well, we can go out with Nick and his friend again. Nick seems fun, and Ya—Ya—”

“Yannis,” Cara supplied.

“Whatever his name is, he sure seems into you.” Emma giggled. “With him around, you can forget about that hippie hiker you were eyeing earlier.”

Cara fought the urge to tell her that Greek men wore sandals, too, and usually despite extremely hairy feet, as well. “I just don’t want to get involved with a Greek guy, Emma. They have the home field advantage, and they don’t go home at the end of the week. I’d rather not spend the rest of the summer ducking down alleys to avoid running into the guy again. Too awkward.”

Emma waved a hand negligently. “Who cares? Move on to the next guy.”

Cara shook her head. Emma just didn’t understand how a small Greek island worked. “All these guys grew up together and half of them are related to each other. It would be like dumping a guy and then dating his brother or cousin.”

“I’m the one going home at the end of the summer, so who cares what the guys think? Besides, if Nick turns out to be as hot as I think he is, I won’t need to look any further.”

“As long as you have a plan,” Cara commented drily.

“You should seriously consider following the same plan. What happens on Aphrodisias stays on Aphrodisias. Oh, look, here they come.”

Cara hadn’t needed Emma to tell her that. Her guy-dar had gone off as soon as Yannis was within ten feet of her.

He slid in the booth next to her. “Your wine, despinis,” he announced with the suavity of an experienced waiter. Across the table, Nick delivered a white wine to Emma.

Cute. He’d called her miss. “Thank you.” Cara took several sips while she thought of something to say. “This wine isn’t what I had before.”

“You like it? It’s one of the island’s vintages. The bartender usually saves it for the locals.”

Cara could already feel its headier buzz rushing through her veins and wondered if he was trying to get her tipsy. “I guess it’s okay.” She felt as if she’d kicked a puppy when Yannis’s face fell. “Well, you must not like it, since you’re drinking a beer.”

“I like it fine. My grandfather makes it from his vineyard.” His sentences were short and clipped.

“Oh.” Well, that certainly was an uncomfortable exchange. She toyed with the stem of her wineglass and looked anywhere but at Yannis.

Her gaze fell on Emma. Her alcohol intolerance was kicking in, and she gave a big yawn before snuggling on Nick’s shoulder.

Cara needed to draw this evening to a close. “Emma, time to go.” Her friend blinked a couple times and then shut her eyes.

“What?” Nick protested. “We just got here. The dancing hasn’t even started.” He wrapped an arm around Emma’s shoulders.

“We also just got here from overseas. Emma’s barely conscious thanks to the booze and jet lag.” Cara tugged her friend out from under his overfriendly embrace. “Besides, Greek men can dance with each other. You two should go for a spin.”

Nick gave her a blank look, but Yannis snorted and replied to his friend in Greek, “Look, Niko, they obviously don’t want to hang around with us.”

“But the blonde does—”

“Her friend’s right. She’s almost passed out. What fun is that?”

Cara broke in then, “Excuse me, please, Yannis.” She scooted into him, and her hip pressed along his. The long muscles of his thigh flexed at the contact, and she felt an answering pull. “Yannis?”

He shook his head and stood, letting her slide free. Emma fussed a bit, but straggled after her.

“You sure you can get her back to your hotel?” Yannis asked. “We can walk with you.” Nick was pouting into his wineglass and didn’t bother seconding Yannis’s offer.

“No, thanks. We’re not far.” Cara tugged Emma’s elbow.

“Nick, we’re at the Aphrodite Bay Villas, Apartment Three,” Emma announced loudly, unfortunately not drunk enough to forget their hotel information. “Call me.”

Nick raised his head and a grin erased his sulky expression. “How do you Americans say it? Oh, yes. Count on it.”

Probably too far into the busy season to find another hotel. Oh, well, Emma was a big girl, and hell-bent on getting her Greek groove on. In the meantime, Cara would try for a handsome tourist who’d be off to another island once the ferry arrived.

“Good night, then.” Yannis gave her a curt nod and sat next to Nick. He reached for her wine and raised it mockingly. “Yia sou.” He toasted her and drained the glass dry. “Ah, delicious. I’ll have to tell my pappous what a good job he did on this vintage. There’s a good reason we save it for ourselves and don’t waste it on tourists.”

She spun on her heel but forgot she was still holding onto Emma, who teetered dangerously on her flimsy shoes. Emma threw her arms around Cara’s shoulders for balance and Cara staggered a bit under the weight. “Come on, Em, straighten up,” she muttered, peeling Emma off her.

“Eh, it’s okay here for women to dance together, too, but most of them wait for the music,” Yannis called.

Cara tossed him a nasty glance and stalked off. The dignity of their exit was ruined, however, by Emma blowing a kiss to the men and giggling again.

Cara finally got them out the door into the warm Grecian night and steered Emma uphill to their villa.

“Cara, the blue-eyed guy likes you! Could be something special.”

Cara groaned. Since meeting Yannis Petrides for the very first time less than eight hours ago, he had almost run her down, she had chewed him out on the street, he had tried to get her tipsy and she had insulted his beloved grandfather’s wine. Special wasn’t the word that came to mind, but the other words that did would shock even a drunken Emma.

“SO HOW WAS YOUR EVENING OUT with Niko Theodoridis?” Yannis’s aunt Eleni poured him a cup of coffee and set plates of hard-boiled eggs, olives and thick slices of homemade bread on the table in front of him.

“Eh, all right. I had some of Pappous’s wine at the taverna.”

“Must not have been too much, or else you wouldn’t have found your way home. Your uncle uses that wine to clean tarnished brass sometimes. It works like a charm.”

It sure hadn’t charmed a certain Cara Sokol. Ah, well. The ferry that brought her would take her away soon enough.

“Eat, eat!” his aunt urged. “A big handsome boy like yourself needs good food, especially to work construction for your slave driver uncle.”

Yannis helped himself to the eggs and olives and drizzled local wild honey on the bread. He smiled up at Theia Eleni after a couple mouthfuls. “It’s as delicious as you are beautiful.”

She beamed down at him and patted her carefully combed and sprayed black hair. He’d seen her only once with her face bare and her hair limp and wet around her shoulders and had for a split second wondered if his uncle had sneaked a girlfriend into the house. “Oh, you! Your mother warned me you were a charmer. Like I told you before, my friend Georgia has a daughter who would be perfect for you. Just let me know if you want to meet her. Such a nice girl and a good cook.” His aunt pinched his cheek and bustled back to the stove.

Yannis winced. Most of his aunt’s friends were on the lookout for a husband for their girls, but he wasn’t interested in girls in their late teens who only giggled when he tried to talk about more than the weather.

His uncle Gus came into the kitchen, still buckling his belt. Uncle Gus was wearing one of his dressier shirts today, a button-down white linen with embroidered panels down the chest over black dress pants. He must not be planning to visit a job site today. He sat and gestured to the empty table in front of him. “Coffee.” Yannis’s aunt quickly filled his cup and set down an ashtray, as well.

Yannis took a deep breath of the last clear air of the morning. Sure enough, his uncle lit a cigarette to smoke while drinking his coffee. Having grown up in Greece, Yannis was used to cigarette smoke, but didn’t care for it at meals, where it seemed to change the flavor of his food.

He popped a couple more olives into his mouth and pushed the bowl toward Uncle Gus who raised a work-roughened hand in refusal.

“None for me. Time to go to work, anyway.” He stubbed out his cigarette and stood. Yannis followed, his aunt fluttering after them with a couple bundles of pastries for their kolatsio, or midmorning snack. Yannis’s uncle more than made up for missing breakfast then.