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As she neared the jetty, she cut the engine, letting the incoming tide guide her gently to its mooring. Instead of going inside as soon as she’d finished securing the boat to the docking post, she paused to take off her dress. They were on a beach, weren’t they, why shouldn’t she stroll into the boathouse in a bikini and invite him to come for a swim? Her gold Lycra bikini consisted of a plunge top paired with high-cut bottoms – Ariana loved the way it made her look and feel; whenever she was on the beach men just couldn’t take their eyes off her. Christian wouldn’t know what hit him. He would lose all interest in that stupid English girl after this.

She sashayed slowly through the boathouse doors and leaned one arm against the doorframe, striking a pose that showed off her figure to best advantage, then waited for Christian to notice her. His head was sticking out from the bottom of one of the boats under construction. He looked up, and when he saw it was her, he slid out from underneath the boat.

She looked down at him, giving him her most alluring smile. ‘Hello, Christian,’ she purred. ‘I’ve come to tempt you away for a swim.’

Christian deftly flipped himself up off the floor trolley and narrowed his eyes. ‘Does your father know you are here?’

‘What does it matter if he does or not? I’m eighteen years old and I can do what I like.’

He spotted Demetrios’s boat moored up outside. Ariana didn’t have the necessary licence to drive the boat, so there was no way her father would have given her permission to borrow it. ‘Where is he?’

‘I saw him go into Níko’s. He won’t be coming back here, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘Was that redhead still with him?’

‘Who cares? Let’s go for a swim Christian. I’m ready to dive in.’ She pushed her shoulders back, emphasizing her breasts.

He turned away, throwing his tools down and reaching for a towel to wipe his oily hands. ‘Not now, Ari, I’m too busy. Go and find one of your friends in Ithos.’

‘I’m not interested in any of them. That’s why I’ve come to see you.’ She pouted. ‘Come on, Christian, the day is nearly over. You need to have some fun.’ She closed the distance between them, swinging her hips as if she were on the catwalk.

‘Ari …’

‘What?’ she asked innocently as she wrapped her arms around his chest, running her fingers though his blond hair, her body meeting his, the warmth rising up in her as her breasts brushed against him.

‘Ariana, stop this.’ He pulled his head away from her hands and took a few steps back. ‘You mustn’t do this.’

Ariana giggled. ‘Don’t be shy, Christian, I’m all grown-up now … and I’ve learned a thing or two.’ She reached behind her and flipped the catch on the back of her bikini top.

The straps came loose and she slowly dropped the top, revealing the perfectly tanned rise of her breasts.

‘Enough, Ari!’ Christian pushed the towel he was holding at her. ‘Cover yourself up – you’re making a fool of yourself. I’m not interested, why can’t you just accept that?’

The laughter died on her lips and she held the towel to herself, covering her naked breasts. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Exactly what I said.’ His voice was gentler now. ‘Look, Ari, you are a beautiful girl and one day someone will love you and make you happy, but it isn’t going to be me.’

‘Why not? What’s wrong with me?’ she demanded.

‘There is nothing wrong with you,’ he said kindly. ‘But I’ve known you since you were a baby. You’re like a little sister to me.’

‘I’m not a child! Let’s make love, then you’ll see.’ She pressed herself against him urgently.

‘Ariana, I don’t want to make love to you and I never will. I don’t want to hurt your feelings but it’s true.’

‘It’s that fucking English whore, isn’t it?’

‘Grace?’

‘She’s behind all this. I saw you with the little bitch the other day.’

‘Ari, calm down.’

‘Don’t tell me to calm down!’ Ariana dropped the towel and fumblingly put her bikini top back on. ‘You wanted me before she was here.’

‘No,’ Christian said. ‘That’s not true. I’ve never led you on.’

There were tears mingling with her fury now, his words drawing out an anger that was born of humiliation.