Saved By A Billionaire Brit Read online

  "You remind me of my boss," the publicist said. I wasn't sure what she meant, since her employer had red hair and mine was black. Then I heard a familiar British accent behind me...

  "I think I saw you on the beach this afternoon, though I believe you were asleep when I walked by." He was staring directly at my chest. It seemed the nude statue from the beach was real and staying at my hotel.

  I started to reach up and button my shirt. After my failure to strip at the beach, I decided to go part way when I got back to the hotel. I prepared for evening cocktails by going braless under my red shirt. It never occurred to me I would be viewed with such interest. Or did it? No wonder he stared. I had buttoned only a few buttons at the bottom of my shirt, and most of my breast was hanging out. My nipples were covered by a flap of silk, but the rest was out there for all to see.

  My state of dress might seem odd to some, but that morning during breakfast, I had seen a totally nude woman wandering around outside the villa just below my terrace. She was apparently having breakfast too because she was holding a bunch of grapes. I thought I was hallucinating a Greek nymphet, but that was not the case. Various states of undress were not only tolerated throughout the hotel, but almost encouraged.

  I suddenly realized there were several benefits to baring my breasts. It was certainly an exciting experience, and it had attracted a very exotic male.

  "It was beautiful out there on the beach today," I answered. (Well, some of it.)

  "It certainly was," he smiled. "My name is Robert Smythe."

  The glow of the sunset filled the pool terrace. Remembering my afternoon dream made me turn a color to match my shirt. It was almost as if he could read my mind. I was vaguely aware I had seen his naked ass as he strolled by. That was a butt I could admire. At least some of the afternoon had been real. His dream presence must have invaded my sleep just after I glimpsed him. The black hair was dry now and still combed back from his forehead. He was wearing an expensive white, cotton shirt with short sleeves. I was immediately drawn to his relaxed manner and friendly demeanor. For a man so handsome, it was unusual that he seemed totally without conceit.

  I wanted to blurt out that I was engaged to be married, but he was smiling at my partially bare chest, and it seemed a bit premature. An awkward silence followed. I had never met anyone who was totally nude before introductions.

  "Nice to see you again. My name is Alexandra Jordan, but everyone calls me 'Alexa.'"

  The sunset continued in the same slightly scandalous manner. Robert's friend, John, found Sharon at the bar, and Robert told me about his job as the director of a charity in London.

  "I was actually born in Kenya, so the charity is focused on food and medical services for Africa. What sort of work do you do?"

  "Until recently I was the editor of a literary journal at a Texas college. We also published some university news. A few months ago I quit my job and moved to New York to look for work in national publishing." I stopped speaking abruptly. I needed to say that I met someone and got engaged instead of pursuing my career, but something about his deep blue eyes made me hesitate.

  The raw truth was I had come to Santorini to choose a honeymoon spot and explore the island as the setting for my novel. Rex, my fiance, was busy wheeling and dealing for a New York investment company and couldn't get away. I felt incredibly fortunate because Rex was endlessly generous. He promised to pay for my entire trip to the Greek Islands. When I was reluctant to go alone, he offered to pay Sharon's expenses, if she wanted to come with me. This was all the more amazing because she had just left Rex's employment to pursue a new job.

  "I'm trying to be a novelist," I confessed to Robert. "I thought Santorini would be the perfect setting for a novel about early Minoan culture. I’m doing research here, on Delos, and hope to visit Crete as well." It was a half lie. Or rather a lie of omission. I didn't mention the honeymoon search. Robert's smile made me feel like the most desirable woman on earth, and I didn't want it to end.

  “How romantic,” he said, and I felt the ice melting in my drink. I noticed Sharon staring at us from the bar. John was standing even closer to her. I hoped my dream lover would think my blush was a sunburn.

  “And you, what brings you to the island?” I asked.

  “Towering cliffs, Aegean Sea, hotels clinging to the side of a volcano. The lure of ancient Greek art is irresistible. I’m just on holiday, and like most Brits, seeking a warmer climate for a few days. There is hardly any rain here on Santorini, the opposite of England.”

  I wondered what holiday it was in Great Britain, not realizing that "holiday" was the word for vacation in the U.K. My heart was fluttering, and I tried to calm myself. It was just a harmless flirtation. Why did I feel so guilty? His mouth on my nipple seemed so real earlier that afternoon, even if it was only a beach dream. Could he actually read my thoughts? Perhaps I could read his mind as well. He was trying hard not to lust over my bare flesh, but was failing miserably. I knew it was impossible, but I wanted Robert to rip off my shirt and ravish me. I had to leave before I did something I would regret forever.

  “I need to order supper before it gets too late.” The daily sunset party was over. I stood and motioned to Sharon and then spoke to Robert, “You do know that you can order food to be served on your terrace, don’t you? I don’t know how long you have been here, but you need to eat right after sundown because the terrace gets very chilly at night. The hotel provides blankets for the outdoors after dark, but as the evening wears on...” Then for no reason, I pointed to my suite, four apartments from the pool. "I'm just over there, the large terrace at the end. I have to go in early tonight because I have a morning cruise to Delos."

  Sharon had wandered over and was now smirking over my shoulder. She still had the same naughty grin as we walked toward the terrace gate. I heard footsteps behind me.

  "Wait up a bit, please," Robert called after me.

  When I turned around I was looking directly into that easy smile.

  "Yes?"

  "After Delos, are you taking the ferry back to the mainland?"

  "No, it is just a day trip. It returns to the Santorini dock tomorrow evening. As you may know, no one is allowed to spend the night on Delos, being the birthplace of Apollo and all." It was impossible to look at him and not smile back like a starstruck idiot. There was something very special about him. Finally guilt overtook me. I gave Sharon a look that made her walk ahead of me to the apartment.

  "I'm sorry. I should have told you. I'm not wearing my ring because I didn't want to take it to the beach. I'm actually engaged to be married, and the other reason I'm here is to find the perfect spot for a honeymoon."

  "I'm not sure what to say in reply to that - except that I'm sorry to have been so forward. It was just that I fancied you, and I wasn't aware it would be inappropriate."

  "I'm the one who needs to be forgiven," I replied, trying again to button my shirt without anyone noticing, an impossible task. I wondered why he was apologizing for liking me. I didn't know Brits apologized for everything. It is almost a greeting in England. "I shouldn't have been flirting with you."

  He laughed out loud at this. "Goodnight, then. All is forgiven." He walked away, but I still felt as if he had made love to me on the beach.

  Enormous relief swept over me. So this was temptation. Was it possible to be engaged and still desire other men? I felt regret and strength at the same time. At least he was gone and would tempt me no more. Inside the hotel suite I sat down on the couch and knew I didn't want to give up the life I was building with Rex. It was a glamorous life. When I got back to New York, we would finalize the wedding plans. As soon as the trip was over, we would start hunting for an apartment near Central Park. I had already decided on Santorini for the honeymoon. There was nowhere more awe inspiring, perching on the side of a towering cliff.

  Rex had never been to such a place, and I wanted to share the spectacle with him. Tomorrow I would make the hotel reservations in person to make sure nothin
g would go wrong. Now that I had made a decision, I could spend the rest of the trip researching my novel. Hopefully there would be time to complete the research during the honeymoon. I hoped that Rex wouldn't get irritated about my work while I was on the island. How often does one get to work in paradise? It wasn't exactly an easy flight from New York. Perhaps I could stay on awhile when Rex went back. A third trip would be hard to arrange, and I really wanted to avoid that.

  The time difference made it very difficult to communicate with New York, and I needed to phone Rex, during his lunch hour. I grabbed the phone and dialed happily. Rex answered immediately.

  "Darling? How are you? Things are going perfectly here. You're going to love it."

  "Give me a minute. I haven't left for lunch yet, and I need to close the office door."

  I heard the door click and then the sound of his breath. "I've been thinking, and I've made some decisions too. Are you alone?"

  "Sharon is in the other room. We can talk."

  "This is the hardest thing I've ever done, but it has to be said. I can't do it. I thought it was what I wanted, but with you gone, I've had a lot of time to think. It just isn't going to work. I can't marry you."

  I sat there unable to speak. There was a burning at the base of my skull. It slowly spread down my spine like a disease. When it reached my stomach there was an emptying. The hollow feeling stretched down my legs and paralyzed every part of my body. I thought I was going to drop the phone. It dangled loosely in my fingers. When I didn't reply, Rex continued.

  "No matter how I think about it, I cannot get a good feeling about our wedding. This is hard to say because I am so fond of you, but I just can't be happy as a married man. It seems so final, till death do us part and all that. I feel it is the end of so many possibilities, and I'm not willing to give them up. I don't want to be one of those husbands who struggles against being married all the time. It would lead to anger and infidelity - and finally divorce. I know this seems cruel right now, but it will save a lot of heartache in the future.

  I've already had my secretary cancel the flowers, the reservation at the gardens, and the reception plans. Well, almost all the reception plans. I'll go down the list tomorrow and check off the last ones. Don't worry about the money. I'll cover all the cancellation costs. Don't worry about the Santorini trip either. Stay as long as you like. I'll pay for everything. It's the least I can do. Alexa? Are you still there? Are you ok?"

  "Yes, I'm still here, and I'm not ok," I answered weakly.

  "There was no good way to tell you this. I know you may hate me forever, but I hope you will forgive me. It is better for both of us, believe me."

  "Is there anything I can do? Nothing I can say to make you change your mind?"

  "I don't see any other way. Good luck to you. I'll get my secretary to contact you about the travel bills and arrange for you to get your things out of my apartment when you get back."

  He hung up, and I went into shock. I ran into the bathroom and screamed as loud as I could. Sharon came running down the stairs and knocked on the bathroom door. I couldn't move, just sat there on the toilet lid and choked and sobbed. It quickly turned into that ugly kind of crying, tears running down my face into my mouth. Sharon pushed the door open because it was unlocked.

  "Are you hurt? Sick? Can you come out and sit on the couch?"

  I nodded, and she put her arm around my shoulders to lead me back to the living room.

  "Should I get the manager to call a doctor or something?"

  "No, there is nothing he could do. I just called Rex, and he broke up with me. He had already cancelled the wedding."

  "Oh my god, I can't believe he did that. What a disgusting creep. Did you have a fight or something?"

  "He just said he didn't want to be married." At this point I just fell over on the couch. Words seemed so inadequate and far away.

  "Well, you would think he might have thought about that before he proposed to you. This is really bad, but a divorce would be a lot worse. You don't want to waste your time on a man like that. He doesn't deserve you." She hugged me and covered me with a blanket. I don't know if I fainted or fell asleep.

  Later that night I stumbled into my bedroom, still fully clothed, and fell onto the bed. My throat was dry, and my face was wet. It felt as if I had been crying in my sleep.

  Chapter Three

  I'm not sure what happened the next day. It had to be the most difficult day of my life, and my memory failed on most of the details. I don't think the clock ever went off. When I woke up, the sun was already shining through the small windows. I realized I had missed the ferry to Delos and that worried me until I remembered why the Delos trip had become unimportant. I was curious why Sharon hadn't awakened me. I drifted through the apartment, climbed the stairs, and wandered into her bedroom. The bed was empty. At first I thought she had gone to Delos without me - until I saw her empty closet. The suitcases were gone as well, every personal belonging. I sat down hard on her bed, running possibilities through my head.

  Was it pity and compassion? She hadn't wanted to disturb me? It suddenly seemed strangely logical for her to leave me in peace. Of course, her vacation was ruined, so she would leave. Maybe she felt guilty about accepting Rex's money now that the engagement was off. I looked for a note, but didn't see anything. Perhaps she didn't know what to say.

  I walked across the terraces to the office. My hair was uncombed, and I was still in last night's wrinkled, silk blouse.

  Anne, the assistant manager, looked up at me. I was relieved to see her since the hotel manager spoke limited English. Anne was from America and worked at the hotel May through October.

  "Oh good, you are up. Sharon said you didn't feel well. I can arrange for late breakfast to be brought up for you if you like."

  "Where is Sharon?"

  "We booked a flight to Athens for her. She left a few hours ago and is already on the Greek mainland. From there she is flying through Frankfurt back to New York. Do you feel like eating now?"

  "No, don't bother. I have some cereal and milk in the kitchen." Sharon left for New York? Even though I knew she had gone somewhere, I was still surprised to hear it in reality. Something was wrong, in addition to the crack in my soul. What kind of friend leaves you at the worst moment of your life without a word of explanation? My head spun like a roulette wheel. A vortex of questions remained, but the energy to consider them...

  I went back to the suite and sat on the terrace with a bowl of cereal. I may have eaten three bites, but then I just stared at the ferries cutting their way to the docks. Far below the cruise ships looked like toys. Their wakes made designs across the water. I cursed my lack of appreciation for the view. The next minute, I wondered why I was sitting on the terrace. I should be in bed, sobbing my heart out, but I didn't know what to feel.

  This was all just a moment. In my head, I knew I should be starting anew, now that I was basically homeless and alone. I didn't even have a real job, just access to the research for my imagined novel. Intellectually, I clearly realized that every day on Santorini was precious. I should have been making plans, writing outlines. Surely someday in the future I would be wishing for another chance to research and write. But the flesh was weak, my world collapsed around me. I'm not sure how long I sat at the table, nearly catatonic. It may have been hours or days. Crying seemed impossible, but then the tears came. I put my head down and sobbed loudly like an abandoned infant.

  The next image that emerged was strange. A calm voice urged me to eat. My only impression was a kind face. I didn't even question how a complete meal appeared on the table. For a moment I wondered what had happened, and then I remembered. No Rex, no Sharon. It was like a death.

  "Can you eat a few bites? Just a little bit? I got it from my favorite restaurant in Thira. You could get really sick if you don't eat something.”

  I looked up into those deep ocean eyes. Where had Robert come from? For a moment I thought he was going to feed me with a spoon. To avoid tha
t I picked up the fork and picked at the moussaka. I had no taste, no hunger, no pain, just a giant empty.

  "What happened? Why are you here, Robert?"

  "I'm sorry. I was just so concerned about you sitting out here by yourself, crying like that," he reached over and touched my arm gently. "I couldn't get you to talk, but you did nod when I asked if I could get you some lunch. Is there anything else I can do to help? Where is your friend?"

  I continued to stroke the food with my fork while I blurted out the whole story. Sometimes I choked instead of swallowing.

  The next image was from my bedroom. He was literally taking off my clothes, tucking me in carefully. I had no shame, in fact no feeling at all. He lay down next to me, fully clothed, and I said nothing.

  I'm not sure how many days passed. Was it one night or two? Suddenly I was aware of myself in the shower, in the bathroom, and drying my body. Every move seemed painful. I dressed in slow motion. It was an enormous effort to open the blue door and walk out into the sunlight. Robert sat beside the table smiling broadly and motioning to me. As usual, the hotel staff had brought up a huge breakfast of cheese, meats, granola, fruits, juice, yogurt, and croissants. I still had no appetite, but nibbled some grapes and strawberries. Robert pushed some yogurt and cereal toward me. I knew he had slept on my bed one or more nights, on top of the covers. He had obviously already phoned for breakfast.

  "I need to thank you for helping me..." I was thinking back to what I could remember: gentle touches, kind words, lovely meals I hadn't eaten.

  "No thanks needed. I enjoyed being with you. I was keen to take care of you. In fact I'd like to get you out of the hotel for awhile today. Later this afternoon I want to take you on a pleasure cruise around the caldera. We could have lunch at an outdoor restaurant in Thira and then ride the cable car down to the dock. I have tickets for a sailboat tour and I've heard the view of Santorini is incredible from the water."