“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Kyrillos Gazis muttered a week later.

Pollyanna privately thought the same, but since admitting it out loud could backfire, she answered with rare diplomacy, saying placidly, “It could be my kindness rubbing off on you.”

The Greek billionaire shot her a dirty look, and Pollyanna hastily smothered the smile trying to form on her lips. It was barely seven on a beautiful Saturday morning, and everyone in the island would probably be shocked to speechlessness to find out that Teleios’ high and mighty owner had spent the last sixty minutes in her company, cutting stems and thorns from the latest crop of roses she was tasked to gather.

As Kyr bent down and resumed working, Pollyanna was given another chance to stare at him, and stare she did, with a combination of wistful longing and misery. She had never thought it was possible to feel deliriously happy and devastatingly sad at the same time, but one week’s worth of being in the company of the island’s owner had proved it to be true.

For some reason, the Greek billionaire seemed to enjoy her company, and it was in fact why he had deigned – his exact choice of word – to help her with this morning’s chores.

With Ezio down with a migraine, Pollyanna had told Kyr regretfully that she would have to cancel on today’s activity. Aside from gathering flowers, she also had to prepare them for deliveries and perform the other tasks that Ezio wouldn’t be able to take care of.

Kyr had simply hung up after her forlorn speech, and she had still been struggling to sniff back her tears when he showed up at the fields, dressed for field duties.

It had been an incredibly touching sight, and if she hadn’t been convinced that she was in love with him, well, that had totally underscored the nature of her feelings.

Kyr suddenly turned towards her, catching Pollyanna staring at him. His lips curved in a knowing smirk, and she felt her cheeks heating in response.

“Like what you’re looking at?” His tone was all sexy arrogance.

Her flush deepened, and she asked in a mixture of exasperation and genuine amazement, “How can you be so immodest?”

But this only made the billionaire throw his head back in laughter, the sound as irresistible as the rest of him.

When they were done, it was almost nine in the morning and she invited unthinkingly, “Would you like to come back to the house and have a drink first?”

The billionaire’s gaze became hooded. “Thank you for the offer, psaraki, but I’m good at waiting here.”

Oh. She had forgotten again. Forcing a smile, she said, “Then I’ll just be as quick as I can.” Taking the two huge baskets of roses with her, she hurried away, fighting back tears all the while.

Kyr looked after her broodingly, knowing that he had hurt her again. But there was nothing he could do. He would never set foot back in the Floros’ household, not even for someone as genuinely, naively nice as Pollyanna.

While waiting for Polly’s return, Kyr absently cast his mind back on the past seven days. Ever since their accidental meeting by the beach, he had found himself spending all of his free time with the eighteen-year-old girl…platonically.

After her shocking the hell out of him by choosing to be with his “non-playboy” side, Kyr had shocked himself even more by still wanting to get to know her. That first day, he had taken her to the best spot for snorkeling and, afterwards, had invited her to dinner.

Which she had refused, Kyr thought, the memory still stinging a little.

Her eyes sorrowful, she had told him regretfully that she had promised to have dinner with her godparents, so could they take a rain check on it instead?

Yes, of course, he had agreed. What else was there to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a selfish bastard? But he had also thought to ask who her godparents were, and that was when he found out she was living with Ana’s parents.

Of all the fucking people in the world, she had to be with the two persons on the island he didn’t want to have anything to do with.

And that should have been his cue to get the fuck out of her life, Kyr knew. The moment he found out about her connection to the Floros, he should have ended it then and there.

But he hadn’t.

Instead, he had let it go on. The second day, they had gone horseback riding, their pace relaxed as Kyr gave her a tour of his island while peppering her with questions.

Where was she from? Arkansas.

Was she an only child? Yes.

Was she spoiled? No.

What did she plan after the summer? Attend college.

She had never hesitated to answer any of his questions until they came to her age. This, she had answered hesitantly, as if afraid that her age would offend him.

It didn’t, but it had made Kyr feel momentarily uneasy.

She had just turned eighteen this year.

Eighteen, and he was twenty-eight, a good decade older than she was.

And that had been the second sign.

She’s too young for you, Kyrillos Gazis, his conscience had warned him. It urged him to leave her, but again he had refused to listen.

The third day, he had taken her to the island’s main museum, which exhibited photos of Teleios’ most famous guests. It was a near accurate display, and the only thing it lacked was a photo of her, one of Hollywood’s highest-paid actresses today.

The fourth day, he had gotten Pollyanna to ride the island’s submarine, an activity patterned after an attraction he had experienced in Hawaii. And this was the time he had found out she was claustrophobic.

Why didn’t you tell me, Kyr had burst out furiously when he realized what was wrong. He had been about to drag her back to the surface when she held his arm, and her touch – the very first time she had initiated contact between them – had immobilized him.

I really want to enjoy this, please, she had pleaded.

How are you going to enjoy this when you look like you’re about to faint any second, he had demanded incredulously.

To which she had answered with a ghost of smile, Easy. Let me ask the questions this time.

What was his favorite color? Blue.

What was his favorite drink? Water.

What was his favorite movie? The Langoliers.

What was his favorite book? The Call of the Cthulu.

Those questions had been the third sign.

Any other girl would have asked him about his fame and wealth. What was his net worth? How many countries had he visited? Did he have his own jet? What were the names of his most famous friends?

But of course, his little blowfish hadn’t asked any of those. Instead, she had asked him the most ludicrously personal things –

Things that SHE hadn’t even asked, Kyr couldn’t help thinking, not once in the nine years they had been together.

Why?

Did that mean she had never loved him at all?

Just thinking about her put Kyr in a bad mood, so much so that he sought distraction the easiest way possible, with his best form of entertainment right in front of him.

When she had asked him what his favorite hobby was, he answered silkily, Fantasizing about being a playboy with you.

And she had given him what he wanted.

Eyes wide as saucers, mouth forming a large ‘O’---

It was his favorite blowfish look, and Kyr had thrown back his head and laughed, the sound still rusty because he hadn’t found anything funny in the past few years.

The fifth day, he had taken her to the island’s only mall, which had its own cinema and indoor theme park. It was the first time he had gone out with her in public, and even though he and Pollyanna hadn’t been affectionate with each other in any way, the sight of them still had everyone talking.

He had known what was going on in their minds, of course.

The master was with the Floros’ goddaughter. Why? Was he planning revenge? Was it to make his ex jealous?

Yes, he had known, but he hadn’t given a damn, knowing as well that at the end of the day, their loyalty was to him.

They would not tell Pollyanna anything, not even if she asked.

But she hadn’t.

A combination of innocence and inexperience had prevented her from realizing that the locals’ interest in them ran a little deeper than the usual fascination people had for rich-boy-poor-girl romances.

For Pollyanna, everyone was staring because they had a hard time believing that he was spending time with an ordinary person like her. These were her exact words, and not for one moment had he considered correcting her.

Instead, he had said smoothly, ‘You only have to say the word, you know.’

Say the word about what?

If you want me to do more than just spend time with you.

Again the blowfish look, combined with a fierce blush that seemed to spread to the rest of her body. It had been a marvelously arousing sight, one that had remained with him even when he was back at the resort.

That was the first and only night he had masturbated to the memory of her. Closing his eyes, he had imagined how beautiful her curvy body would look if it were rosy all over and that was it for him, Kyr coming hard – harder than he had with the last woman he had fucked.

And that, too, had been a sign.

You want her too much, his conscience had warned him. Leave her before you take her virginity and break her heart after.

But this, he ignored as well.

He had no choice.

It was already too late.

She had gotten under his skin.

Yesterday, he had taken her to the extreme sports park of the island. The first activity they had tried was the rope course, which required them to cross a flimsy rope bridge several hundred feet off the ground. He had stepped forward first, Pollyanna following behind him.

I’m nervous and afraid all at the same time. Pollyanna had made her confession as they moved further into the bridge.

When he had glanced back at her, she had looked back at him with cheeks rosy with excitement and a sheepish smile playing on her lips.

And to his shock, this childish look of hers had done things to his libido that not even other women, even when they were fully naked, had been able to achieve.

It had his body reacting violently, and Kyr had ended up sporting a raging erection up in the air, his cock seemingly unaffected by the fact that there was a yawning cliff right under them, just waiting to give humans a shortcut to hell.

It hadn’t helped at all that by the time they had made it to the halfway point, Pollyanna had been completely glued to him, arms wrapped around his waist and young breasts rubbing against his back with every cautious step she took.

Upon reaching the tree house at the other end, Kyr had only glanced at the service technicians waiting for them and the men had gotten the message. By the time Pollyanna had finished removing the harness, it was only the two of them, causing her to blink in shock as she asked, Where did everyone go?

They’re waiting for us below, he had answered tautly. The truth was, he had not wanted anyone to see Pollyanna, who was seemingly unaware of the fact that her pointed nipples were left arousing telltale marks on her shirt.

Instead, her eyes were filled with concern…for him, and at his frown, she had asked tentatively, Did you have a hard time at the bridge, too?

Kyr had wanted to laugh and groan at the irony of her question even as he managed to say with a straight face, I guess you could say that.

Worry in her voice, she had then asked, Is there anything I can do to help you? Make you feel better?

Yes. His tone had been unequivocal.

How? Hers had been eager.

He had replied bluntly, Allow me to be a playboy.

Her face had paled, her mouth opening and closing several times. Thinking he had been too forceful, he had been about to tell her to forget it when he heard her say almost inaudibly, ‘Maybe…just now?’

The words had been the greatest and most pleasant shock of his life. Are you sure? His voice had been thick with lust, his mind already going on overdrive.

Only if you promise…it’s just now. Here. Where no one will see. Her voice, on the other hand, had been very much breathless, with a tiny thread of fear that, instead of making him feel remorseful, had only served to heighten his desire for her.

I promise.

His answer had made her draw her breath hard, and her voice shook when she had asked, ‘What do I have to do?’

He had answered by cupping her face, and she had responded by giving him his favorite blowfish look. It had made his lips curve in amusement, but it hadn’t succeeded in deterring him from his objective.

‘Close your eyes,’ he had advised and without waiting for her to answer, he slowly bent down to kiss her. He caught a glimpse of panic in her eyes before her lids drifted shut the same moment his lips touched hers.

It had been the softest, most tender contact, and yet it had also been hot and electrifying, the chemistry between them off the charts that it had her gasping in shock and Kyr almost shuddering.

After, he had cupped her face and deepened the kiss, Kyr barely in control of himself. He had tried to be gentle the first few moments, using only his lips to nip hers and coax Pollyanna out of her inhibitions. And when she had finally melted against him, kissing him back, all hell had broken loose. Kyr had driven his tongue inside her mouth, exploring every inch before prompting her tongue to dance with his. He had sucked on her tongue, her lower lip, and when it still hadn’t felt enough, he had ran his mouth down the slender column of her neck and sucked hungrily on her wildly beating pulse.

When he had reluctantly ended the kiss and released her, she had almost fallen to the ground, her knees giving out. He had caught her with a hoarse laugh, asking, Seriously?

It was my first kiss, she had answered, sounding awkward and defensive at the same time.

A part of him had expected it of course, but even so, hearing her confirm it with her own words was another thing, and Kyr had drawn the most incredible sense of satisfaction from the reality.

He was her first kiss, and it had made Pollyanna lose her balance.

It was a heady thought, especially for someone like him. No one would ever make Kyr admit it, but when Ana had left him so publicly, it had significantly dented his belief in himself. After Ana, Kyr had begun to believe that women were only interested in him for the shallowest reasons, and that none of them would stay with him once the going got tough.

Or at least no one except for his Pollyanna, Kyr had thought while rappelling out of the tree house, a still weak-kneed Pollyanna secure in his arms.

And now it was the seventh day.

Would he be able to convince her to let him be a playboy again?

A playboy, to have fun with, but not a lover or potential boyfriend, Kyr thought. He hoped she knew why he was always keen to make the distinction. He wanted her to be clear that a playboy was all he could be with her or anyone else.

Did she understand that?

He heard footsteps behind him, and he turned.

What he saw seemed to portend the answer to his question.

It was Dinah, and by the look on her face, she knew exactly what had been going on between him and her goddaughter.