Chapter 6
“It’s delicious,” she said, but her words were soft.
She was shaken to the core by what they’d just done.
From the blandest, most boring sex-life to this?
Kinky, candle-wax dripping, champagne sipping hotter-than-hot love-making beneath a perfect star-studded sky on this gorgeous Greek tycoon’s yacht? Saphire was on overdrive.
She pulled the blanket more tightly around her shoulders but Thad mistook the involuntary shiver for coldness. “Would you prefer to go down below?”
She shook her head. Her smile was a shadow. “This is fine. Perfect. Better than perfect,” she promised.
Her eyes were wide like saucers in her pretty face. He watched as she lifted another piece of chicken souvlaki to her lips and chewed it thoughtfully. She swallowed and then toyed with her napkin, making a pretense of wiping her fingers.
“Do you do this often, Mr Konstanides?” She asked in the same soft tone she’d used since they’d tumbled apart, breathing ragged, souls temporarily spent.
“Do what, exactly? Eat on the boat? Every time I take her out,” he grinned, deliberately misunderstanding. “Are you not familiar with my appetites by now?”
To Thad, life was pretty damned great in that moment. He had no concept of the maelstrom of tormented doubts that singed the sides of her brain. He couldn’t have understood the feeling of guilt that dogged her every step.
“Intimately,” she promised, undertaking a detailed inspection of his toned, muscular figure.
“Touché.”
“I meant sex. Like this.” Her cheeks flushed. “With candle wax and champagne baths.”
He laughed. “A champagne bath would be a fine idea.”
“Kind of sticky, though,” she pointed out.
“That’s what the ocean is for.”
She shook her head. “I mean it, MK. You’re not answering my question.”
He pushed up on one elbow. “Because I do not see why it matters.”
“Well,” she shrugged inside the blanket. “Can I tell you something?”
“Anything,” he promised, leaning forward.
“You won’t laugh?” A frown lurked in the depths of her eyes. “Or judge me?” She could see that he was stifling a laugh and so she shook her head. “Forget it. It’s stupid.”
“No, no,” he reached out and put a hand on her knee. She felt electricity arc through her instantly. “Go on. I have my serious face on.”
If Saphire hadn’t been so anxious, she would have had to stifle a giggle of her own. But she dropped her eyes to the buffet of food Thaddeus had arranged to be waiting on the boat.
“Before you, I’d only ever been with one other guy.” She kept her eyes averted so didn’t see the darkening of his expression.
“One other guy?” He repeated, scanning her face to see the hint of humor. He didn’t get the joke.
“Yes. One man. Then you. And with him, it was … nothing like this. So what I’m asking, and seriously wishing I’d thought better of asking, is if this is normal?”
Desire, longing, affection, need, adoration. It all mingled in his chest in one powerful wrench of emotion.
The words were grated from his throat. “No, Saphire. It’s not normal.”
She swallowed. “I had no idea my body could …”
“I know.” He moved to crouch before her. She was afraid. It was so obvious now. The sensual awakening, while intense and wonderful, had also probably scared the hell out of her.
“I have been with many women.” Her eyes flew to his and he shook his head, lifting her chin to bring her lips nearer to his. “But what we share goes beyond it. We keep saying it’s just sex. Great sex.” He kissed her gently. “It’s so much more than that.”
She felt tears threatening and she blinked them back. “It can’t be.”
He tamped down on his frustration. He had a week. A week with Saphire and all the feelings she was incapable of controlling. Beyond that, who knew? The future was never set in stone. “Who is this other man you were with?”
“That doesn’t matter,” she said swiftly. Too swiftly, only Thad missed the obvious sign that he’d said something wrong.
“Fine. Why only one man? You are twenty six and so sexy. You must have had lots of men in your life.”
She shook her head.
“How can that be?” He marveled, gripping her face on both sides and staring down at her.
She let out a small sound of pleasure and pushed up to her knees, bringing her body closer to his. “I think this is my favorite moment.”
“Of the night?”
“Of my life,” she responded seriously, to hell with the consequences. How could she fight what they were anymore?
She’d set out to balance the ledger-sheet of harm in her marriage, in the hope that she could return to her husband, and instead she’d fallen in love with the revenge-sex guy.
It was stupid, and crazy and totally reckless. But how could she care?
He stood, pulling her with him.
“Dance with me.”
“There’s no music,” she said on a shaking laugh.
“Isn’t there?” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Listen closely.” And he held her tight, swaying his hips slowly.
He was right. Music was everywhere. The lapping of the water against the boat, the gentle rustle of the wind, and the steady thumping of their hearts. She pressed her head to his chest and refused to think about tomorrow.
Only, of course, tomorrow had a way of rearing its head, regardless of how unwanted it was.
It crested over the bow of the boat, waking them gently with its golden warmth. Saphire stirred first, lifting her arms over her eyes and blinking in the unfamiliar surrounds.
Then, she spied the by-now extinguished candles and the empty bottle of champagne and it all came rushing back to her.
A smile touched her lips as she recalled dancing until her eyes were drowsy and her legs could hardly hold her.
He’d cradled her to his chest then, and laid her down on the blanket as though she were some kind of fragile porcelain figurine.
He had stroked her hair until she’d fallen asleep, and then he’d held her to his chest, so that they slept curled together.
It had been a night out of time; a fantasy in so many ways.
Which made the reality of the next morning so, so much worse.
“Hey,” his voice was thick. He blinked down at her and smiled. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” Her heart was pounding with love and anxiety, guilt and regret.
Thad didn’t notice. “I completely forgot last night that I had arranged a surprise for you.”
“Oh?” She swallowed. Her future was confusing the hell out of her. Jordan was her husband! She’d married him in good faith. This was an aberration and she needed to end it. Didn’t she?
He gripped her hand and pulled her to standing. The boat was enormous, but she’d seen barely any of it. Thad pushed a pair of glass doors open; they led to a crisp white staircase. He went first, leading the way downstairs, into an open, airy hallway.
“This feels way more like a gorgeous hotel than anything else,” she remarked, observing the wood paneling and state-of-the-art appliances.
“That was the plan,” he smiled over his shoulder. “In here.” He pushed into a bedroom that featured a king-size bed in its center. “We could have slept down here,” she teased. Her eyes were drawn then to the bags that littered the top of the quilt.
He looked at her expectantly.
“What is it?” She asked, not understanding the significance.
“When my driver picked up our dinner from Athens last night I had him collect some clothes for you. As much as I love seeing you get creative with my shirts and belts, I thought you might appreciate some actual garments.”
His thoughtfulness made her heart flip over. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” he assured her. “I want you to be comfortable. I should have arranged it sooner, only you kept me so distracted…”
She nodded. It was too much. Everything was hurting, most of all her heart.
“Thank you.” She smiled up at him, but it was over-bright; she felt it stretch her cheeks. “Do you mind giving me a moment to try something on?”
He didn’t sense the undertone of panic. “I’ll make coffee.” He lifted a hand to her cheek. “Thank you for last night.”
A lump welled in her throat. It was Saphire who wanted to thank him, but she didn’t trust herself to speak. So she nodded and spun away from him, hoping to keep a lid on her emotions until he left.
When she heard the door click softly in place she sat onto the edge of the bed and buried her head into her hands.
What a mess! She couldn’t see a way out that wouldn’t end in disaster for someone. Could she stick with her original plan? Could she stay with him until he left for Paris and then return to Jordan? Could she go back to the man she had thought she loved and tell him, ‘Ha, ha, I cheated too!’
And whatever she did, how could she live with herself?
She groaned and stood up. No matter how she chose to resolve this mess, there was no sense in indulging a display of emotional drama.
She was better than that. “Pull yourself together,” she urged, scanning the clothes with misted eyes.
She reached for the closest bag and lifted out a pair of white linen pants and a soft blue shirt.
It was perfect with her eyes; comfortable, flattering and a great fit.
Of course.
He was a man with an eye for detail apparently, and undoubtedly she wasn’t the first woman he’d bought clothes for.
“Agape mou, are you ready?”
She checked her reflection in the mirror with a frown.
She looked so much more like herself. For the past few days she’d been sort of wild and free-spirited.
Now? She was looking a lot more like Mrs Saphire Arana, wife of up-and-coming lawyer Jordan Arana, future politician Jordan Arana.
All she needed was a pearl necklace and a sophisticated chignon and she’d be transformed back to normal.
It made her want to scream and rail against everything she’d become.
She didn’t though. She ground her teeth together and moved to the door. She pulled it in and had to take a deep breath. God, he was gorgeous. He’d changed too, pulling on a dark grey polo shirt and a pair of pale chinos.