- Home
- Amanda Horton
Protected By Him (The Greek Brothers Book 4)
Protected By Him (The Greek Brothers Book 4) Read online
© Copyright 2020 by (Amanda Horton) – All Rights reserved. In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this document is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publishers.
Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Also By Amanda Horton
Protected By Him
By: Amanda Horton
Chapter 1
“Drinks are up.”
Stephanie nodded at the bartender and picked up the next tray of drinks, weaving her way through the lively crowd of locals and tourists. Stephanie couldn’t understand the allure of liquor but it paid well and right now it was all that mattered. She lifted the tray above her shoulder reflexively as she made way through the unruly crowd. Her reflexes had definitely improved over the last few months of her living in Greece.
If, a few years ago, anyone would have told her she would be waiting tables at a bar, dressed like an exotic dancer, and constantly fighting off men’s advances, she would have laughed rapturously. All her life she had been the nerd no man had found attractive. Now she couldn’t get away from guys, always complimenting her and trying to feel her up.
She reached her first table and smiled warmly at the two older couples seated. So far, this was her easiest table this evening and she took her time serving them.
“Oryse opiote,” she murmured as she set the drinks down in front of the correct person.
“What did she say, George?” one of the women whispered loud enough for Stephanie to hear.
Stephanie’s smile grew and she answered before the man. “I was just telling you, here are your drinks. You speak English?”
The woman smiled back, “We are visiting from the UK. We’re celebrating our thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. Both of us,” the woman reached over and patted the hand of the other woman. “We got married together and we’ve celebrated our anniversary together every year since.”
Stephanie tried not to let her envy show. She had dreamed of a husband and making a family but romance just didn’t seem to be her thing. Maybe she had been dating the wrong kind of men. Either way, dating and love just didn’t seem to be in the cards for her and she needed to stop feeling sorry for herself. “Congratulations,” she told them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another customer wave at her impatiently and she sighed. “Got to get back to work. Enjoy your time here in Greece.”
“Thank you. We will.”
Stephanie put the tray down by her side and headed for the man watching her lecherously. She resisted the urge to reach up and try to pull down the skimpy bikini top that served as the top half of her uniform. The small boy shorts that completed her uniform weren’t much better. She was the last person in the world to be wearing such a revealing outfit. Her breasts were too small and, in her opinion, her ass was a bit on the big side – a fact the skimpy shorts did nothing to hide. On more than one occasion, Stephanie had wanted nothing more than to take the napkins that were offered with the drinks and spread them across her body. Truthfully, they would have done a better job of covering her body than her uniform.
“About time, sweet cheeks. Bring us another round and something for yourself.”
“That’s very kind,” Stephanie told him, pasting a fake smile on her face as he reached out to rub his hand up and down her arm. She moved to the side on the pretense of checking with the other occupants of the table about their drink requests. Anything to avoid being pawed by this cocky, rich kid who thought he was a gift to the female race. He wasn’t a local and she could tell he was wealthy by his expensive clothes and watch. He was handsome enough but his cocky attitude was a complete turn off for Stephanie.
He's not really seeing me, just this skimpy outfit I’m wearing.
She’d seen more than her fair share of spoilt rich kids and other nefarious characters while working at the bar. She had a degree in Art History, and no one cared about her roving mind. She hadn’t been able to use her degree to get a good job back in the States. It was almost as if no one valued intelligence and culture anymore. They only cared about her barely-there bikini and flirtatious banter with the customers. She stepped back when the man’s hands reached for her backside. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she told them, not even bothering to say it in Greek. The proprietor of the bar liked his waitresses to do their best to get along with the clientele, many of whom were tourists. The little seaside town of Stavros was sixty-five kilometers from Thessaloniki and was a popular resort destination for tourists wanting to get away from the city.
Stephanie had ended up here literally by accident when her sightseeing tour bus flipped over and she didn’t know how to get back to her hostel in Thessaloniki. She’d stumbled into the small bar that same afternoon, hoping to find someone she could communicate with, and had ended up getting a job and a ride back to the hostel to retrieve her belongings.
Stephanie had first come to Greece on a cruise ship, as a member of the crew. She’d fallen in love with the country and had vowed that she would return and build a new life for herself here. She’d left the United States to find herself after she has spent years barely scraping by. Her new lifestyle didn’t have much job security – but it had plenty of tips and new experiences. Her attitude in Greece was a complete departure of who she had been several years ago. It had taken her eight months to save up enough money to afford a one-way ticket and have a small nest egg to live on until she found a place to work. She’d been in Greece for only three days when she’d visited Stavros to explore its pristine white sand beaches. She boarded the bus, not knowing her life was about to change.
She’d started work at the bar that same evening, and while she hated being seen as a sex-object, without a job she had no ability to remain in the country. She’d applied for half a dozen jobs in her first few days in Greece but was turned her down because of her inability to speak Greek. She’d been willing to learn but that took time. She did not want to go back home because it would have meant giving up on her dreams; moreover she had been unable to find a good paying job there too. At least here, she had gorgeous beaches, brilliant turquoise sea, and a variety of cultural opportunities to explore during her free time.
She continued to mindlessly go through the evening, choosing which patrons were safe to flirt with for the chance of a bigger tip, and which patrons were dangerous and needed to be kept at an arms’ length. She ignored the appreciative looks the male clientele sent her way, having never truly seen herself as a beautiful woman. She’d barely dated in high school or college, never seeing it as a priority.
Walking around in nothing but the skimpy bikini had been a very hard adjustment for Stephanie. Several weeks later, she had managed to acknowledge that she did look alright in the bikini
, and while she would never see herself as a fashionista or sex goddess, the male patrons seemed to enjoy having her serve them their drinks.
She nodded as two men sat down at a table in the middle of her section. The older gentleman didn’t really draw her attention. The younger man was very handsome but had a dark aura about him. He looked dangerous and attractive at once – a combination that disturbed Stephanie. She wasn’t normally attracted to dangerous men. She stayed far away from them.
Have I seen him somewhere before?
“Hey, girl. Did you see that group in the back corner? Man, the guy is like a chick magnet. It’s like watching a sultan with his harem,” Terri whispered in her ear, laughing at her own cleverness.
Stephanie glanced towards the back corner seeing a bevy of women and feeling relief she didn’t have to service that table. Stephanie had met Terri at the bar and she was one of the only people Stephanie could count as a friend. Terri was from Jamaica and had worked all over the world as a waitress. Her exceptional people skills enabled her to move from one coastal town to another.
Terri shared with Stephanie that all she wanted out of life was to see the world. Since her parents hadn’t provided her with a trust fund, she’d made her own plan for realizing her dreams. She would find a place that would provide her with work and the financial means to live. In her off hours, she would explore and play tourist. When Terri felt she’d seen everything in that location she wanted to see, she’d simply pick up her duffel bag and head for the next port and next adventure.
Stephanie had been amazed at some of the stories Terri told her but she also recognized that Terri exuded street smarts and was more than an expert at reading people. Stephanie, while having raised herself from the age of fifteen, wasn’t nearly as prepared for the bullshit that people tried to pull on one another. Terri had been her lifesaver and in her hands, Stephanie had learned so much about herself and others. She’d also had a really good time in the process. Terri was a firecracker and the life of the party.
“Hey, Steph. You gonna deliver these drinks today, or next year?” Tomas called to her, bringing her back to the present. Tomas was the bartender and part owner of the establishment as it was a family business. His English had been learned by watching movies and she hid a smile at the way he butchered the New York accent he’d being trying to emulate. Tomas’s favorite movie was The Godfather but his accent was deplorable.
“Sorry,” Stephanie loaded up the drinks, ignoring the questioning look Tomas sent her way. She delivered the drinks, once again evading reaching hands and ignoring the taps on her butt she couldn’t even see coming. An empty table drew her attention and she took her time loading up the dirty glassware and wiping down the table.
The two men she’d seen earlier were sitting close by and she took a closer look at them. One was very obviously Greek. Straight nose, dark hair, dark eyes, and the longer she watched, the more she got a weird vibe from the man. He was dangerous, and yet, he’d done nothing to make her feel that way.
The other man was slightly older and given his coloring, most definitely Greek as well. His dark hair belied his age, his face telling the story of decades of living. He seemed to be controlling their conversation at the moment and she wondered if the two men were related in some way.
As she observed them from beneath her lashes, the older man accepted an elegant vase from the young man. Stephanie gave a start. She knew the design of that piece. It was an ancient Macedonian vase – or a very good replica of one. Although it looked ordinary and even run-down on the surface, it had to be over a thousand years old.
The older man took the vase, turning it this way and that way…
Wait! Isn’t it the same vase that was stolen from the museum in Olympus last week?
Stephanie moved around the table, getting a closer look at the vase without drawing unwarranted attention to herself. It was the very same vase. A priceless artifact that - up until a week ago - was placed in a secure glass museum enclosure. It was worth millions of dollars and was one of only a handful of artifacts that had been recovered from a specific time period.
Thanks to her art history background, Stephanie knew how important such a piece was to the history and cultural identity of Greece. No one had claimed responsibility for the stolen artifact nor had the authorities been able to find a culprit.
The older man tucked the vase into a cardboard box and handed over a bulging envelope to the younger man. He opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of bills, thumbing through them before nodding his head and tucked the envelope into his bag.
Stephanie’s heart was racing as she took the dirty glassware back to the kitchen. She just witnessed a crime but she wasn’t sure whom to tell. She thought about getting Tomas’s attention but then she saw the younger man walk up to the bar and share a laugh with him.
She looked around the bar, hoping to see one of the police officers that sometimes frequented the bar. She spied one of them standing outside on the sidewalk and headed that direction.
“Excuse me,” she announced her presence.
The police officer turned around and then smiled at her while giving her body a once over. “Can I help you?”
“Yes. I just witnessed a crime. Inside.”
The officer frowned and looked back at the bar and then back at her. “A crime, you say?”
“Yes. That robbery that occurred last week at the museum? Well, I just saw a man hand one of the stolen pieces to another and then they exchanged money.”
The police officer raised his brow in disbelief, “And you saw this out in the open? Two people committing a grievous crime and they didn’t even attempt to conceal their actions?”
Stephanie heard the words and took a moment to consider if what she’d seen was real, and nodded. “Yes. That’s exactly what I saw.”
“Miss, what is your name?”
“Stephanie Harris. I work here at the bar.”
“Miss Harris, I assure you that you have not witnessed any crime. Where are these men you saw?”
Stephanie turned and looked back toward the now empty table. She looked for the younger man, but he wasn’t at the bar any longer. “Since they haven’t come out of the bar, I assume they are still inside.”
“You can’t see them?” the police officer asked.
“Not right now. Their table is empty…”
“I think maybe the heat and humidity has gotten to you. Maybe you should take a small break before resuming your duties,” the officer told her patronizingly.
Stephanie shook her head and asked, “Aren’t you even going to come inside and question the men?”
“Question whom? About what? It’s not a crime to give a gift to someone.”
“It wasn’t a gift. It was a priceless vase that was reported stolen in the papers last week. And it was purchased. With cash. A lot of cash.”
“There you go, it was a business transaction. That doesn’t seem like a crime to me.” He paused for a moment and then asked, “Stephanie, you like working here. Correct?”
“Sure, why?”
“Well, I think Tomas and his grandfather might question their decision to employ you if they knew you were acting hysterical and accusing their clientele of committing crimes. Tell you what? I won’t say anything about this. You’ve obviously been on your feet for a while tonight and aren’t thinking clearly.”
Stephanie’s fists clenched in frustration. Another officer arrived and the one she’d been talking looked at her dismissively. She stared after them, unable to believe that the officer wouldn’t even try to find the men she’d seen.
She walked back to the bar, relieved when she saw that her shift was over. “Tomas, I’m clocking out,” she told him, heading for the backroom to wash up, donned a dress over her bikini, and retrieved her bag. It was still fairly early, and she decided that she couldn’t let the crime go unreported. The police station was only a few blocks away.
With a plan in mind, she grabbed her bag and pus
hed through the back door. She rounded the corner, her eyes on her phone as she consulted her GPS to make sure she was headed in the correct direction, when she suddenly collided with a man.
She backed up quickly, almost toppling over in the process but managed to keep her footing. She looked up in the eyes of the handsome man she’d seen in the bar from time to time but never up close. He was tall, at least 6’2”, with midnight black hair that looked mussed up. His bangs were just a little too long and she resisted the urge to put them back into place. He was handsome in a classic way, strong jaw line with a shadow of a beard. His shoulders were broad and there was an aura of strength about him.
She inhaled and the scent of sandalwood reached deep inside her, making her want to do nothing but stay near him a bit longer. He reached out for her and she instinctively backed up, breaking the spell he seemed to have cast around them.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, intending to go around him and continue her mission.
“Whoa! Panemorfi.”
Stephanie shook her head, “What?”
The man gave her a grin and took a step toward her, “I called you beautiful.” His eyes raked up and down her body and she saw the heat ignite in his eyes.
Stephanie shook her head. “I need to go.”
“Wait. You speak English. I do not have anyone who speaks this language in my party this evening. Join us. We are going to my yacht for a night you won’t forget.” He looked toward the backdoor of the bar and raised a brow. “You finished working tonight?”
Stephanie nodded, “I have someplace to go.”
“Go later,” the man stated. He moved closer and lifted a finger, rubbing it across her cheek and then down to her collarbone. Stephanie shuddered, despite herself. His finger was very gentle.
“I’m Ries Kafatos. You and I could have a good time this evening.”
Stephanie shivered and then moved back, realizing she’d allowed herself to get backed up against the wall of the building. She shook her head and brushed his hand aside. It suddenly dawned on her that she wasn’t afraid of this man. She was just disappointed that he was like all of the others.