After making sure Alexandra found her hotel room without incident, Dareios headed to his own hotel. Alexandra had left him in knots. He was too wound up to sleep, and he didn’t want to go out looking for female company to take off the edge. He was also still trying to think about what to do with her.

Two weeks sailing the Mediterranean with Alexandra sounded like heaven—and hell. She’d be in one of those skimpy bikinis she loved to wear. She’d be tempting him. And he’d give in. He knew his limits, and his ability to resist a beautiful woman such as her was not one of his great strengths.

It was the weakness of his family. His father had had it. His grandfather, too. Both of them kept a string of mistresses, made their wives miserable, and never managed a faithful day. When he’d turned eight, his father had taken him aside and explained how life worked—how a man needed a lot of sex and a woman needed children.

Unfortunately, Dareios had been an only child—and his mother had been miserable at his father’s straying. Dareios had known he could never make any woman so unhappy. But he’d also seen how his father made all his mistresses very happy—that was the way to live.

Keep every woman like a mistress, and move on before the tears and heart ache could happen. He’d lived that way so far, but Alexandra was not a woman to take to bed and drop. No…she deserved better. Now he had to convince her of that. And he had to stop thinking about her.

She’d been so sweet and responsive in his arms. Her lips had been just as soft and sweet as he’d always imagined, and her scent…

No…he was not thinking about that. She was Antonio’s sister, and she would find a good man, a man who did not want to sleep with every woman he met, and she would marry. He would hate the day, but it was best for everyone if he kept thinking of her as a sister.

At his hotel, he found he’d missed a call from Antonio. Great—not what he needed tonight. However, Antonio had asked him to look into a few business matters in Italy and in London. He thought about texting Antonio, but that would take forever. He’d better call.

He tried to go over the conversation that was about to take place, trying to find a way to break the news to Antonio about his sister’s latest adventure without also letting Antonio in on what had happened in that back room.

Picking up the phone, he called Antonio’s number. After a few seconds, Antonio’s voice came on. “Dareios, you’d better have a damn good reason for interrupting my evening.”

Dareios grinned. If Antonio had already forgotten he’d called earlier, then Claire must have distracted him, or Antonio had been worshipping his wife’s delectable body. Dareios was glad they’d married—they were good for each other. It made him almost wish he was a different man, but his playboy ways had shown him already that he was just like his father.

“Did I call at a bad time, Tonio?” Dareios asked, trying to sound innocent, as if he didn’t know he’d pulled Antonio from bed.

“Do you have any idea what time it is? And yes—you did call at a very bad time.”

Dareios chuckled at the sound of frustration he heard in his friend’s voice. It was the same frustration that now had his balls blue and his body unsatisfied. But Antonio had a wife waiting for him. Dareios only had an empty, cold hotel bed.

“Claire is not going anywhere. Anyway, I just need a few minutes of your time.” He quickly filled Antonio in on a rough report of what he had seen at Antonio’s banking offices in London and Milan—Antonio had been getting regular reports from his staff, but he wanted someone to glance in on the operations.

Antonio worried too much that others saw him as weaker than his father—Matthias Rosso had been a forceful man, and a tough businessman. But Antonio had no reason to worry—he’d hired good people, or rather his father had.

When he finished, Antonio asked, “And other than that, how is London?”

“It was as it always was. Mother complained when I would not stay with her and wouldn’t ask about Father, even though I knew she wanted to know if he has a new mistress. But Milan is much better. By the way, I ran into your sister, Alexandra, this evening at a fundraiser for the children’s hospital cancer center here in Milan.”

“I thought she sent that donation off weeks ago,” Antonio muttered.

“Well, I guess since she and Eva were already here, she decided to check out the fundraiser for herself. Anyway, I’m having my new yacht, the Kairos, brought up to Taranto and planned to sail it back. I offered to let the girls tag along and they seemed excited about the idea.” And there—that should do it. He would bring Eva with them and that would remind Alexandra that she, too, was just a little sister to him. “We’ll fly to Taranto the day after tomorrow and then sail home. The girls seem to be enjoying some down time, and they love being out on the water.”

“They do at that. Tell them to have fun, and don’t let Alexandra near the wheel. She got distracted by watching dolphins and almost ran us into the reefs last time. ”

“Not to worry, this ship is big enough to have its own crew.”

“To be honest, I’m glad they won’t be gallivanting around Italy on their own. They won’t take security with them, and I worry. But I know you’ll look after them. Has Eva said anything about the schools in Milan?”

“No, and you really should have told her about the acceptance letter for Paris. When I mentioned it to Alexandra, she was thrilled. I think Eva will be even more so.”

“To be honest, I wanted her to look around a little more. I wish she would stay in Athens, but she thinks if she stays, Alexandra and I will keep treating her like a little girl.”

Dareios winced. Was that how he and Antonio treated Alexandra? They talked for several more minutes. Dareios asked about Claire and how she was settling in Athens. It seemed she still missed New York, but Antonio was planning a trip back for her as a treat. Claire was learning Greek now, but had a terrible American accent. Antonio sounded…content. Dareios was only mildly jealous at what his best friend had found. He knew that such a thing was not for him.

“Go back to ravaging your wife,” Dareios said with a laugh. After he hung up, he stared at his empty bed and kept imagining Alexandra in it, her golden gown spilling off her. And that was just where such images should be kept—in imagination only.