Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
S he didn’t believe him.
Nick whirled away, fists clenched so hard his knuckles protested.
“Where are you going?” Her voice, shaky but defiant, stopped him.
“Do you care?” He looked toward the beach, contemplating a hard run on the packed sand. Or maybe inside, in his gym. Right now he’d give anything to go a few rounds with his punching bag.
“Of course I care! You stopped me from walking away just now, and now you’re doing the same?”
“I think our conversation has reached its natural conclusion. If it hasn’t, it needs to, or we can throw any hope of this truce continuing out the window.”
“You’re upset with me, because I told you my feelings? That I didn’t immediately take your word as gospel?”
“I’m frustrated in more ways than one, but yes, I’m man enough to admit it’s more sexual frustration than anything else right now. And as much as you claim not to, I know you want me just as much. So unless you want this to end with us both horizontal on this terrace, I think it’s a good idea you stay away from me.”
He walked to the terrace steps, away from the need to snatch her back into his arms and make her believe him. He shucked off his shoes at the bottom of the steps and strode barefoot onto the grass. Half a minute later, he’d gained the beach.
The cool crunch of the fine grains of sand momentarily slowed him down. At the water’s edge, he stopped, breathed in deep, his restless gaze taking in the wide, calm expanse of the sea and the large sphere of the moon suspended over it.
She didn’t believe him .
He didn’t know why the knowledge devastated him. Was it because at the back of his mind, he’d expected once he’d told her she’d never strayed from his mind for more than a second, she’d fall into his arms and everything would be fine between them again? He hadn’t let himself think she’d dismiss his words so summarily. Well, more fool him.
He raked both hands through his hair, frustration and arousal biting through him in equal measures. The very fact that the blow Belle had dealt him just now hadn’t cooled his raging hard-on told him he had it bad.
But they couldn’t carry on like this forever. And he sure as hell wasn’t prepared to let her go. She could forget her ridiculous talk of divorce. She hadn’t sought one in the six months since she’d walked out, and he was damned if he’d let her start divorce proceedings now. If she persisted, he’d keep her tied up in court for years. He had the wherewithal to do it. The Andreakos name carried a lot of clout, and if necessary, he would use it to his advantage.
Controlling much?
He gritted his teeth against the mocking inner voice. In this he knew she was right, but they hadn’t lost everything that made their relationship work—he refused to believe that. Her trust in him might be non-existent, but her uninhibited physical response just now had proven the sexual side of their relationship remained white-hot. She’d all but melted in his arms on the terrace. His body leapt again in remembrance of her hitched cries and seeking hands. She’d been right there with him until the last moment when she’d accused him of using her to scratch an itch. Yes, he had an itch all right—one she’d caused.
Well, it was time to bring things to a head. He smiled grimly at the crude analogy. Tomorrow, he would meet with Richard Francis and find out what the hell he wanted and what he knew about Nawaka and Charles Mwana. If he could shed light on Mwana’s whereabouts, all the better.
Once that was out of the way, he and Belle would revisit tonight’s conversation. And he fully intended them to revisit other things, too.
Because the cold showers had stopped working; hell, they’d been less than effective in the first place. Even the swimathons he’d punished himself with the past couple of nights no longer did the job. He found himself waking up in the middle of the night to a raging boner and an empty bed, and he was slowly losing his mind.
He released a harsh sigh and started unbuttoning his shirt.
The distinct ring of his cell phone stopped him.
“Andreakos,” he announced himself, irritation coating his voice.
“John Allen here, sir.”
“Do you have anything new for me?” he rasped.
“Yes. We’ve picked up a trail here in South Africa.
Unfortunately it’s to a private airport.”
Adrenaline surged through his veins. “So we know where he’s headed?”
“That’s the thing. He didn’t just charter one plane. He chartered five, each one with a different destination. And none of the officials at the charter company have been able to give us an accurate description of who boarded what plane.”
Nick bit back a curse. “Dammit, isn’t finding people what you do for a living? Isn’t this what you’re supposedly best at? You’ve had five days to find him. How could he have slipped out of your fingers so easily?”
“We weren’t anticipating?—”
“No, you weren’t. Where are the flights headed?”
“Hong Kong, Venezuela, Ghana, Tel Aviv, and Turkey.”
“He won’t be on the Turkey flight,” Nick said with a certainty born of instinct. “He’ll expect us to home in on that one because it’s the closest to Greece. Don’t rule it out completely, but I want you to concentrate on the other flights, especially the ones to Tel Aviv and Venezuela—there could be political or drug connections there we’ve overlooked. I’ll look into it from this end, too.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you need more manpower?”
Allen hesitated. “That would help, if?—“
“Do it. Hire as many men as you need to. You told me one of his soldiers said Mwana seemed fixated on my wife?”
“Yes, the soldier overheard him say he intended to have her, whether you paid the ransom or not. Mwana kept her separate from the rest of the hostages and spent hours talking to her. He… he may have shared things with her.” “What things?” Nick snapped.
“This is just second-hand of course, sir. But the soldier mentioned they spoke of his plans for Nawaka, how he intended to seize power.”
“ Jesus! ” Nick’s rage threatened to spill over. He also wanted to storm back to the villa and demand Belle tell him exactly what she’d been playing at. He forced himself to breathe in the tangy salt air. “Mr. Allen, do you understand why it’s imperative he’s found as quickly as possible? Before this madman attempts anything that’ll further put my wife’s safety in jeopardy?” “Sure I do, sir, but?—”
“No. I don’t want to hear buts . Hire as many bodies as you need. But find him, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Nick ended the call, then breathed deeply when he realized his hands were shaking. “ Damn it! ”
He hated handing over Belle’s safety to someone else, but there was no way he could go after Mwana himself when Belle needed him here.
He’d known in his gut that the rebel leader was dangerous. To have it confirmed took things to a whole new level. If Mwana had shared his plans with Belle, then he’d done so in the certainty— delusional, granted— of Belle being around to help him see them through.
Nick took another breath and forced himself to acknowledge reality—Belle wasn’t out of danger. For Mwana to have gone to this much trouble to hide his whereabouts wasn’t good news.
His gaze fell on the almost motionless water stretching for miles in front of him. Perhaps tonight the swim might work if he doubled the distance. He tossed his shirt onto the sand and tugged off his trousers. Taking a deep, hopeful breath, he sprinted across the sand.
Belle stood at the top of the steps and watched Nick plunge into the waves. In the relative stillness of the moonlit water, his powerful figure cut a swift path as he struck away from shore.
She couldn’t explain why she’d remained out here instead of upstairs in her room. After all, as she’d told herself a few dozen times already, there was no future for them.
Very early on after she’d walked out, a part of her had hoped he’d come after her. But he never came, never sought reconciliation. The one time she’d tried to reach out—her desperate need for him winning out—her email had bounced back— message undeliverable .
In terms of signs, that had been a huge, impossible-to-miss one.
I always intended to come after you …
To believe him would mean to believe Nick hadn’t consigned their marriage to a failed venture. But at what cost would it come when he couldn’t even admit how he felt about her?
And why the hell was she was standing here, watching Nick swim farther out into the ocean, like some kind of wide-eyed groupie? Because at the back of her mind the thought niggled that she’d somehow gotten it wrong?
Her mind whirled, and she hated herself for the doubts she was letting creep in. A cool breeze blew over her, and she rubbed at her arms, her gaze straying to the water. She could no longer make out Nick’s form. His powerful breaststroke had taken him out of the path of the moonlight. Whatever questions she had would have to wait until tomorrow.
Besides, from his coldly furious expression when he’d turned away from her, this might not be the right time to try and talk to him. She’d wait till morning, after a good night’s sleep, when they were both level-headed.
Exhaustion seeped through her, and she walked toward the house.
Approaching the terrace, her feet slowed. She couldn’t shake the look on Nick’s face when he’d realized she didn’t believe him. Not even the best actor could fake a look like that. He’d looked angry, yes, but also…devastated.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” she muttered, her mind in turmoil. She was about to step off the terrace when she heard the phone ringing.
She frowned. Only a handful of people knew the island’s number, and most of them used Nick’s business line in his study.
At the insistent ring, she hurried inside and picked up the handset. “Hello?”
Silence. Not just silence. Menacing silence.
A shiver raced over her, turning her from warm to icy in an instant.
“Hello? Is someone there?” she demanded, her voice husky with sudden fear. The slow exhale that came down the line was unmistakable.
A second later, the line went dead. Hand shaking, she dropped the phone back in its cradle. Her heart hammered as she stared down at it. It was nothing . She fought to regulate her breathing. She was safe.
Charles Mwana was thousands of miles away. And even if he wasn’t…Nick would keep her safe. There were security guards stationed around the island. Lots of them.
She was safe .
She repeated the phrase over and over until the thought settled deep, calming her.
Returning outside, she stood on the terrace, her arms wrapped around her middle. Short of joining Nick in the sea—and there was no way she was doing that—or swallowing a couple of those hated sleeping pills, a vigorous workout in the pool was the only way to banish the past hour’s turbulent exchange.
At the poolside, she stepped out of her slippers. Cool flagstones inlaid with the same rich mosaics that graced the interior of the house soothed her warm soles.
Her dress came off easily, and she stood in her lacy bra and thong. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of skinny-dipping. Electing to stay as she was, she stretched her arms over her head and executed a clean dive.
The water closed over her, and her troubled thoughts receded. Setting a fast pace, she swam lap after lap until her arms protested at the punishment. She clung to the side until she caught her breath, then she climbed out of the water and walked to the marble-tiled shower wall next to the pool. The multi-headed jets sprang to life at the push of a button. She sighed as soothing, warm water caressed her from both sides of the curved wall.
Her wet lace underwear chafed her skin. After a moment’s hesitation, she peeled them off. Demetra and Yannis had retired to their cottage a while ago, and the wall was high enough and hidden from view of the house. She braced both hands on the tiles in front of her, let her head roll back onto one shoulder and revelled in the water flowing over her.
She let out a sigh of pleasure as the jets pounded her, melting away the knots and tension in her body. A few more minutes of this, and she’d head for bed.
“ Christos !”
The harsh oath cratered her serenity. Her head whipped round, and she froze.
Nick stood less than a handful of steps away, as still as she was. But his eyes, oh, the fire in his eyes threatened to consume her with their barely leashed hunger. Her mouth dropped open, sucking in desperate breaths as his gaze came back to hers.
My libido rages out of control only with you …
Fire licked through her belly. Her hands remained glued to the wall, her eyes riveted on him. For a long, tense moment, the only sound breaking the silence was that of the hot jets spewing from the showerheads. His shirt fell from his hand. Her senses registered the movement, but her eyes remained on his. His nostrils flared as he took another deep breath. One long stride brought him a step closer, and her insides somersaulted.
“What are you still doing up? I told you it wasn’t safe to be around me right now.” His voice was barely recognizable, its cadence thickened with anger and arousal. In his eyes she saw a clear, sizzling flame, which branded her, seared her to the soul.
“I…don’t think I can sleep.” Her words squeezed past a throat clogged with emotion. “Do you…do you want talk?”
“No. I don’t.” The words were succinct, implacable. “I want something else. Something that involves little or no talking. And you have the power to give it.” His head tilted in subtle challenge. “Trouble is…are you woman enough to give it to me? To us ? Or will you scurry away again like an aggrieved Victorian maiden the moment things get too hot?” Legs wide apart, his stance was menacing. His gauntlet twitched between them, and his molten eyes scorched her, their quicksilver depths threatening to consume her.
“Don’t challenge me, Nick,” she whispered, her need a living thing, desperate to be assuaged.
“Or what?” he taunted, his whole presence telling her he’d gone past control’s threshold.
Unable to hold his gaze for fear of being burned alive, she lowered her lids, but instead of looking away, seeking a safer outlet, they began a journey of discovery over his body.
With moonlight and the soft lamps on the terrace the only light, he was cast in half shadow, all hard angles and smooth planes. But she witnessed his reaction to her scrutiny. His tongue flicked out to bathe his lower lip. She gasped for more air, her lungs protesting at her brain’s ineptitude at taking life-giving breaths.
Having worn only his trousers after his swim, Nick’s torso was bare, and her eyes ran over his taut, moon-kissed flesh. Perfect male nipples, now puckered to tiny points, made her tongue tingle. God, she wanted to taste them so badly, wanted to feel the hard nubs beneath her lips. Dropping her gaze lower, she took in the tiny droplets clinging to his washboard stomach. She wanted to lick every single drop off, but she held firm. Until her glance dipped below his waist.
And she came undone.
His trousers were zipped but the button unfastened. She watched as the zipper lowered in slow motion, of its own accord, forced down by the power of his growing erection. When his cock sprang free of its constraints and strained toward her, she moaned out loud.
She knew she was lost, but she’d go down fighting.
She raised her eyes to his and met volcanic heat in their grey depths.
“I’m more woman than you’ll ever encounter again in this lifetime. But if you want me, you’re going to have to come and get me.”
The volcano erupted.
With one long stride, he reached her. One arm clamped around her waist and the other angled her head to take the force of his lips as they smashed down on hers. This time there was no dainty savouring or languid exploring. His mouth devastated hers with complete vanquishing in mind.
The salt on his warm skin teased her nostrils. Not breaking the kiss, he turned her around in the shower, and the slide of his hard torso against her back as the water pounded them made her moan as his mouth ravaged hers. When his erection probed the cleft in her ass, her knees quivered, and her hands started to slip.
Tearing his mouth from hers, he commanded roughly, “Keep your hands on the wall.” He paused only to make sure she obeyed him before his teeth grazed over the back of her neck.
His assault was mind-melting in its devastation and went on for eternity. He nipped and licked the skin of her neck, her ear, her shoulder, her cheek. When he stepped back, she felt weak, a pulse throbbing between her thighs that made her want to scream at him to hurry.
He peeled off his wet trousers and kicked them away. She heard the slap of the sodden garment as it hit the wall and slipped to the ground. She didn’t need to look to recall with perfect clarity his powerful thighs and the essence of man that would be displayed prominently between his legs.
Dear Lord . He would be as thick and long, and as glorious she remembered.
“Nick—” She wanted to warn him she was at the edge of her endurance, but she changed her mind. Why give him all the power? Why tell him she was a hair’s breadth from orgasm just at the sight of his body?
“Tinkerbelle,” he responded throatily, and he reached out to reclaim her. “Or should I call you Aphrodite? Do you have any idea how enthralling you look with the water cascading over your hair and body?” His hands slowly traced her braced arms, starting from her fingers, over her wrists, under her arms, tracing the sensitive skin there and setting her alight in ways the water could never douse. At her upper ribcage, he paused, hands resting tortuously on the sides of her breasts. In slow, excruciating circles, he massaged her flesh while with his mouth feasted on the smooth skin of her throat.
“Ahhh,” she moaned, her head rolling back to rest on his shoulder.
His probing tongue charted a path of fire up her throat and flicked over the pulse which hammered there. Her stomach muscles quivered. Jagged pleasure coursed through her, and her knees sagged again.
The need to make him feel what she was feeling became paramount, but with his command to keep her hands on the wall, she only had her body. Arching, she rubbed against him, her ass cupping his shaft in an eloquent caress. He growled, an involuntary jerk twisting his hips.
“You’re playing with fire, Aphrodite,” he husked in her ear, his firm hands finally coming around to cup and mold her breasts. She gasped, the sensation of his rough palm against her sensitive nipples threatening her very sanity. But she wasn’t beaten yet.
“And what are you going to do about it?” she whispered through the waves of need crashing over her as, with clever fingers, he teased the tips to hard nubs.
“See what I meant earlier? There’s nothing biddable about you, baby. You have a fierce, unquenchable fire inside, and I aim to let it burn me up over and over.”
One hand fisted her wet hair and tilted her face around to his. His tongue invaded her mouth, wrapping hers in its heat and boldly staking its claim. He tasted of surging sea and potent wine, a heady combination that sent her senses spinning. His fingers continued to wreak havoc with her nipples. Her hands slipped from the wall as pleasure suffused her, but with the instincts of a jungle cat, he sensed her weakening and paused in his invasion. “Keep your hands where they are. If they slip, you will be punished.”
She didn’t know if it was the intensely arousing cadence of his voice or the sensual promise of his words that triggered the downward spiral, but she was moments away from losing control.
“Nick,” she tried to moan around the tongue circling her own.
“Are you burning yet, Aphrodite?” he asked, his teeth grazing her lower lip.
“No,” she denied, her own tongue darting out to sample the sensual softness of his upper lip.
He groaned. “I must work harder, then.” His hand left her breast and started with sure intent down her stomach, pausing to knead her flesh until she writhed in protest. He swallowed her gasps but continued his unerring journey downwards. When his fingers grazed her mons, he stopped. Slowly, he teased the wet curls apart, then dipped into her warmth.
One expert finger slid into her folds, and she cried out, twisting in sweet agony at his touch. He caressed her clit, finding the throbbing centre of her with unmistakable precision and bringing millions of nerve-endings to pulsing life. He teased; he plucked; he set out on a sizzling journey at a punishing pace.
Her cries grew hoarser and louder as she was pushed closer and closer to the edge. A second finger joined the intimate play and, sliding past the first, pressed just inside her.
“Oh, God, yes,” she groaned.
He paused.
“Are you burning yet?” he asked again as his finger passed, just once, over her need.
“Yes, yes, I’m on fire. Dammit, don’t stop, Nick. Please don’t stop,” she sobbed.
His thigh nudging her legs apart to give him better access, she whimpered as his finger plunged in and out of her, her eager flesh enclosing him, sucking him in. One digit became two again, and her whimpers became cries. With merciless skill he pushed, racing her toward oblivion.
His other hand left her hair and cupped her breast in a blatantly possessive hold, tormenting her nipple. With precise mastery, he increased the pressure, plunging faster into her as his tongue flicked against her ear. With almost cruel promise, he nudged his erection against her ass, letting her feel his power for a moment before moving away. She felt the strength leave her legs as sensation built inside her. Arrows of ecstasy shot through her and she bucked against his hand.
“Oh, God, Nick,” she cried, her head rolling helplessly against his shoulder as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over her.
“Yes, glikia mou. I can feel your fire. Let it wash over me, consume me,” he rasped in her ear.
“Yes, just like that.” She cried out one last time and jerked as convulsions seized her. The strength of it lifted her onto her toes. His mouth recaptured hers; his fingers continued to pump in and out of her as rapture flooded her. She flew through the heavens, touched the stars and bathed in their brilliance.
Soft shudders and throaty whispers eased her back down. Still basking in her euphoric nirvana, she didn’t realize what he was doing until he removed his hand from her breast and firmly pushed her against the wall. At the touch of the cool tiles against her aching nipples, his strong body against her back and the force of the water pounding over them, fresh convulsions ripped through her. She soared again, spasms seizing her as raw delirium reclaimed her.
“You have no idea how fucking fantastic it is to watch you come, baby,” he rasped in her ear, continuing to touch her. “I could spend days just watching you fall apart for me.”
He held her close as she caught fire and blazed through another orgasm. He nibbled her lips with soft kisses and murmured soothing words to her until her muffled cries turned to gentle moans. Then he took the weight of her body against his and pulled his fingers from her, cupping her mound possessively for a moment before letting go. He brushed a soft kiss on her cheek before he turned off the shower and eased back from her.
“You can take your hands down now,” he murmured softly.
Surprised to see they’d remained in place in spite of the strength of her orgasms, she let them fall from the stone, spent, to her side.
“Now turn round and show me what my heart desires,” he instructed thickly. The arousal in his voice threatened what little strength she’d regained, but helpless to deny him, she turned, a banked fire still heating the blood surging through her.
If ever a look in a man’s eyes could turn a woman to a senseless puddle, it was the look in his eyes. It ate her alive even as his erection leapt with eager anticipation toward her. A tremor passed through him as his gaze zeroed in on the juncture of her thighs. With daring invitation, she tilted her hips forward, offered herself to him. He swallowed, his jaw working as he tore his eyes from the blonde curls to graze over her stomach to her breasts. Her nipples stood to renewed attention, desperate for his touch.
When he lifted his hands, she moaned, anticipation of his total possession rushing through her.
But he kept her waiting, withholding himself just a little bit longer. Instead, his hands raked into his hair, slicking it back from his face in one slow slide. His chest rose, and his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. Just as slowly he lowered his arms, his eyes never leaving her face.
She smiled—a wanton, feminine smile. Two could play this game. If he wanted to make her wait, she’d make him burn.
He took another breath, sharper than before. “Come here,” he commanded. She moved, her feet propelling her forward until she stood a hair’s breadth from him. Heat emanated from him and her blood surged. He inhaled again; this time it was a shaky sound that told her he wasn’t as in control as he wanted to be. She waited, forcing him to verbalize his need, just as she’d screamed hers moments ago.
“What do you want, Nick?” she enquired throatily.
He closed his eyes for a moment, the hands twitching at his sides speaking volumes. When he opened his eyes again she gasped at the hunger in their depths.
“ You . Take me in your arms and kiss me.” The words were so hoarse and thick, had she not been as close as she was to him, she wouldn’t have understood them.
She lifted her hands, slid them up his strong arms and over his shoulders, and locked them behind his neck. She brought her body into full contact with his, her breasts pressing into his heaving chest. Rising on tiptoe, she pressed her open lips against his.
With a shuddering moan, he crushed her to him, the power of his kiss sending her head reeling backward. Her answering moan only spurred him on, his mouth devouring hers before setting a trailing path down her throat. He paused at her ear, nibbling hungrily on her lobe. “Touch me, my Aphrodite,” he rasped. “Make me burn for you.”
She didn’t need a second bidding. Her eager hands explored his hard body, egged on by his throaty encouragement. When her fingers grazed over his nipples, he shuddered again, his less than gentle nip on the soft flesh of her shoulder a sign his control was slipping. Her hands drifted down, explored the sculpted contours of his stomach before moving around to knead his firm ass.
His hips jerked, pushing his engorged penis urgently into her stomach. She drifted her hands back again over packed muscle, down to his front, teased them through his rough male hair before she took him firmly in both hands. She gloried in the weight and girth of him, running her hands back and forth over his velvet hardness. He grunted harshly, his head rearing back on a sharp inhale. With half-closed eyes, he lanced her with a look so potent she gasped. She understood what he wanted, but she made him say it.
“Tell me what you want, Nick.”
“I want you to open your body to me, matia mou . I want to come home.”
His words made her tremble. She held him a moment longer, revelling in the power she knew was only fleeting. He shuddered once more, his jaw clenched in his effort to stay in control. But her needs were equally urgent, the need to feel his powerful cock inside her supreme. With one final stroke, she released him. Her chest tightened when he left her to grab a condom from his trousers, but the momentary tinge of sadness was brushed aside by clamouring desire for him. The second he was within touching distance, she locked her arms around his neck, levered herself up, and wound her legs around his hips.
Nick’s arm came around her waist to clamp her to him. He took a step forward and with his other hand braced himself on the wall. But he didn’t enter her. He remained still, his eyes intent on hers, waiting for permission. She brought her mouth to his, stopping a whisper away until their heated breaths mingled. Unable to bear it any longer, she whispered the words they both wanted to hear.
“Yes, Nick.”
With a hoarse growl ripped from deep inside him, Nick plunged into Belle, burying himself in her welcoming warmth. They both shook with the force of his possession. Buried deep inside her, he stilled, fighting for control as her tight muscles enclosed him, wrapping around him like a silken prison he never wanted to escape from.
She flexed her hips, and he bit back another groan as pure sensation coursed through him. Shit, he was already close, so close he feared not giving her satisfaction again before reaching fulfilment himself. Clinging with gut-wrenching tenacity to his control, he pulled back, his legs almost giving way when her insides clung to him with ardent devotion.
Closing his eyes, he thrust again, his effort rewarded when she trembled, a deep moan vibrating through her. Hanging on to his fast-slipping control for a few moments longer, he pleasured her—pleasured them both—with slow, long thrusts.
But soon it was unsustainable. Tension gripped the back of his legs, and he knew he was at the point of no return. When it climbed up his back to grip his neck, he increased his pace, knowing oblivion was a few short heartbeats away.
Before he was ready, sensation climbed into his brain and through his entire body and exploded in a shower of light. He groaned in rapture even as he continued pumping, desperate to wring every last ounce of ecstasy from this moment. When Belle cried out, he pumped faster, his lips fusing eagerly with hers as she started to convulse once again in his arms. The tugging sensation of her orgasm made his breath catch as his pleasure was prolonged. At the sound of her broken sobs, his heart tripped, and he felt a sense of homecoming so strong, he swallowed hard. He broke their kiss and laid his forehead against hers, revelled in her full breasts heaving against his chest as she panted her pleasure.
Afterwards he held her, murmured grateful, soothing words in his father tongue as their bodies quieted.
When her breathing returned to normal, he leaned down and kissed her cheeks, then the corner of her mouth.
“ Efkharisto , Tinkerbelle mou . You’ve made your husband a very happy man.” He heard the huskiness of his words and prayed she’d believe their sincerity this time.
Her eyes lit up, but a split second later, dark clouds invaded their green depths. Reading the reason behind the pain in her expression, he stifled a curse and struggled to keep his voice even.
“Let us make a promise to one another, Tinkerbelle. Tonight is not for thinking about the past, or the future—no arguments, no mention of truces. Tonight, let’s just live and share paradise. Tomorrow will come soon enough, and we can make it whatever we want it to be. Okay?”
He held his breath and waited for her answer. After what seemed like an eternity, she nodded, her clouded eyes clearing a little even though she smiled.
Rising on tiptoe, she brushed her mouth with his. “To living and sharing in paradise. For tonight.”
His heart tripped, then accelerated, his lungs expanding with relief as he took in much needed breath. He crushed her to him, and when her arms tightened around his neck in response, he made a second, silent promise to himself.
He might only have one night to make it happen, but come morning, she would abandon all plans of leaving him. He would use every single second to prove his devotion to her.
Starting now.
“I’m going to turn on the shower again for a quick wash before we go upstairs, okay?” he asked as he pulled out of her and lowered her down gently.
His breath caught when she dimpled a smile at him.
“And do I get to wash you this time?”
“‘Baby, you can do whatever you want to me. I’m putty in your hands.”
Her tinkling laugh sent sensation scuttling through his body.
“Right. Then I command you to put your hands on the wall and don’t move them until I say so.”
“Or what?” he teased. He flicked on the shower behind her, luxuriating in her husky cry when the fingers of his other hand played over the nipples displayed rubescent in the moonlight.
“Or you’ll be tortured in ways you’ve never even dreamed of,” came her bold, husky promise. The blood thickened in his veins.
“Well, in that case, I absolutely refuse to do your bidding.”
Her mock gasp of outrage was the last coherent thing he heard for a long time.