It's All Greek to Me Read Online Free PDF Page B

her for a moment, not saying anything, just looking at her. She couldn’t help but stare at his lips, and wondered what sort of miracle she’d have to pull off to taste them.
    Without a word, he took off his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders before turning and striding off down the corridor. The jacket was warm from his body heat, and smelled like him. The scent of his cologne—lemony and woodsy at the same time—teased her nose as she watched him walk away. “Oh, I have no problem at all with your butt,” she said softly before melting into a chair, suddenly so exhausted she didn’t have the strength to do more than huddle into the jacket and wish she was back home, in her little apartment that was completely devoid of sexy, arrogant, rich playboys with incredibly fabulous butts.
    She woke up to find she was slumped sideways in the chair, drooling on the lapel of Iakovos’ nice jacket.
    “Come,” the man himself said, holding out a hand to her.
    “Where?” she asked, averting her face so he wouldn’t see her wipe off a tendril of slobber on the wet patch on his coat.
    “There’s a handkerchief in the inside pocket,” he said with martyred resignation.
    “Sorry,” she said, dabbing at her lips before offering him the jacket.
    He looked at it as if she’d just wiped out a cesspool with it. “Keep it. I have others.”
    “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and slobber all over it. I’ll have it cleaned and sent back to you.” She stood slowly, feeling as if she were a hundred years old.
    “You’ll need it in a few minutes. The wind is cold on the water at night.”
    “I told you I wasn’t going to leave until Cyndi got settled in a room.” He tried to herd her toward the elevator. She dug in her heels.
    He made an annoyed click of his tongue. “You are exhausted and you need to rest.”
    “Yeah, well, you may be Mr. Fabulous, but you’re so not the boss of me.”
    “Mr. Papaioannou, not Fabulous,” he corrected her.
    “I am never going to be able to pronounce that!”
    “You will. It’s not that difficult. Say it slowly. Papai-oan—”
    “Argh!” she yelled, as her emotions of the past two hours—combined with a pretty severe case of sleep deprivation—more or less robbed her of what few inhibitions she had. She knew that, and yet there was nothing, absolutely nothing, on this good earth that was going to stop her from doing what she had wanted to do the second she saw the annoying, aggravating, incredibly sexy man in front of her.
    She grabbed his head with both hands, pulled his face down to hers, and sucked his lower lip into her mouth.
    He stood frozen for a second, then pulled back, his eyes glittering like polished onyx. “I do not like aggressive women!”
    She stared at him, stunned by her own brashness but absolutely flabbergasted by the brief taste of his mouth. Before she could even begin to stammer some sort of an apology, he was on her, the cool, hard planes of the wall behind her holding her up while hot, hard man covered her front. His mouth was like fire, a sweet, sensual fire that threatened to burn her up, leaving nothing but a Harry-shaped smear of ash on the wall. He didn’t ask permission for his tongue to visit hers—it was just suddenly there, sweeping around as if it owned the place while he groaned into her mouth.
    She put both hands on his chest, gathered every ounce of strength, and shoved him backward.
    His expression was as black as his eyes, but that didn’t stop her. “And I don’t like men who don’t bother to ask permission before they stick their tongues down my throat!”
    Those beautiful, glittering eyes narrowed. “How many men have stuck their tongues down your throat?”
    “None! But that’s beside the point!”
    She panted, literally panted , from the fire of his kiss, and the heat of his body, which seemed to sink into her very pores, leaving her burning with the desire for more. More of his mouth, more of his body, just more