CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE SUNSET WAS spectacular. A kaleidoscope of pink, orange and gold that stained the sky and set the sea aflame. Dusk announced the first stars, pinpricks of silver against a purple backcloth, and, high above, a crescent moon dominated the heavens.
Isla glanced at her watch and was shocked to realise that she and Andreas had been talking for hours. Dinner had been followed by a decadent dessert of honey and rosewater baklava, accompanied by rich, dark coffee.
‘Why did you study ancient Greek history?’ he asked, sipping a glass of ouzo, which Isla had declined.
‘So much of modern culture is influenced by ancient civilisations, and Greek literature, philosophy, astronomy and medicine still have a profound impact on our lives today. When I was sixteen I went on a school trip to Mycenae as part of a history project about the Bronze Age and I was hooked.’
‘With your qualifications, I have no doubt that you will be able to continue your career in Greece.’
Isla could argue that she wanted to take Loukas to live in England. But she knew she would be wasting her breath. Andreas was determined that his son would grow up in his homeland and more than anything she wanted Loukas to see his daddy every day.
‘I would like to work when Loukas is older. But he is growing so fast and I don’t want to miss a day of his development.’ She bit her lip, feeling guilty that Andreas had missed his son’s first few months. ‘I was upset when you refused to accept that I was pregnant with your baby,’ she said huskily. ‘I thought you didn’t want Loukas, like my father didn’t want me.’
Andreas leaned across the table and his eyes held her gaze. ‘Have I convinced you that I would give my life for Loukas? I am absolutely committed to being the best father that I can be.’ Emotion deepened his voice as he said, ‘I love my son and I will make sure he knows how precious he is.’
Andreas’s promise was everything she had hoped for, Isla thought. Well, not quite everything, she amended when he stood up and held out his hand to draw her to her feet. He wrapped his fingers around hers and she was intoxicated by the warmth of his skin. The spicy scent of his aftershave filled her senses and she was so aware of him it hurt.
‘We’ll go inside if you’re cold,’ he said when a shiver ran though her.
‘I don’t want to go in yet. It’s such a beautiful night.’ She walked over to stand by the balustrade and stared across the garden to the sea glimmering in the moonlight. Not so long ago she would have hurried away from him, too afraid of the feelings he aroused in her to stay when he roamed his hungry gaze over her. But she was tired of being a coward. She knew he desired her and she ached to be in his arms and in his bed. ‘I don’t want this evening to end,’ she whispered.
‘Well, it doesn’t have to end yet.’ His smile made her heart beat so hard she could feel it slamming against her ribs. ‘What would you like to do? Can I get you another drink?’
‘I want you,’ she said breathlessly before she lost her nerve.
His jaw clenched but he did not move towards her. ‘If this is out of gratitude because I gave you a birthday present...’
‘It’s not.’ She didn’t know how to make him understand her need that made ache so terribly. With a moan of frustration she flung her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down so that it was a whisper away from hers. ‘Kiss me, please. I think I might die if you don’t.’
‘In that case,’ he growled, before he angled his mouth over hers and kissed her with a devastating passion that rocked her to her soul. The heat inside her burst into flame and she pressed her body closer to his, trembling with excitement when she felt the hard proof of his arousal nudge her thigh.
Andreas roamed his hands over her and cupped one breast, rubbing his thumb pad across her swollen nipple so that it hardened even more and she gave a whimper of pleasure. It was a whole year since he had shown her what her body was capable of and a white-hot flame shot from her breasts down to the molten core of her femininity. ‘You drive me insane,’ he muttered against her mouth. The evidence of his desire was a potent force and when he claimed her lips again with a barely restrained savagery she felt exultant.
She had missed him. It was crazy because they had scarcely spent any time together a year ago. But he had lodged like a bur beneath her skin, a constant torment to her. When he lifted his mouth from hers, he was breathing hard and a nerve flickered in his cheek. His blue eyes had darkened and were almost black, gleaming with an unconcealed hunger that drove everything from Isla’s mind but her desperation to throw herself into his fire and burn in the fierce passion promised by his kiss.
Driven by an age-old instinct that pulsed hot and heavy between her thighs, she put her hands on his shirt front and felt the scorching heat of his body through the silk. It wasn’t enough and she tugged open the buttons and smoothed her palms over his naked chest, glorying in the satiny feel of his skin and the slight abrasion of his chest hairs.
The long scar running down his chest did not detract from his male beauty. His powerfully muscular body made her aware of her softer feminine curves. She shivered when he spread his fingers over her breast, a possessiveness in his touch that made her heart-rate quicken. The ache deep down in her pelvis became an insistent throb as he skimmed his other hand over her silk dress, burning a path across her skin as he moved down her stomach and thighs until he came to the mound of her sex and pressed his palm against her. The effect was explosive and she gasped and arched her hips towards his hand, desire pounding a heavy drumbeat through her veins.
He kissed her again, without tenderness. But she did not care. His mouth was everything and her lips fitted the shape of his so perfectly that she could convince herself they had been designed for each other. She answered his demands with demands of her own and felt a surge of triumph when he groaned.
It had been so long since he’d made love to her and she was desperate to feel his hard length inside her once more. He drew the strap of her dress over her shoulder and peeled the material away to bare her breast. Her nipples were ultra-sensitive and she moaned softly when he rolled the swollen peak between his fingers, sending starbursts of pleasure down to her feminine core where she was so wet and ready. For him. Only for him. The world tilted as he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the house.
Mine. The word pounded inside Andreas’s head and a possessiveness that he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling ran like wildfire through his veins. He’d been startled when Isla had unexpectedly launched herself at him. Her rather clumsy attempt to seduce him had been endearing. She might not have the sophistication of his previous lovers but her sensuality blew his mind. It was just desire, he assured himself. The hunger that clawed in his gut was a kind of madness after a year in which he hadn’t done more than disinterestedly take another woman to dinner.
He carried her up the stairs and into his bedroom. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ he muttered when he set her down on her feet next to the bed. He captured her hand and held it against his chest where his heart was doing its best to escape. ‘Feel what you do to me, omorfia mou. If I kiss you again there is a danger that I won’t be able to stop.’
Her eyes shone as bright as the stars. ‘I want to go to bed with you, Andreas,’ she said softly.
Theos, he was shaking like a schoolboy on a first date. His usual panache had deserted him and he cursed beneath his breath as he fumbled with the tie on her dress. Finally he was able to unwrap the green silk from her body and he released his breath on a ragged sigh.
‘You are so beautiful,’ he said hoarsely. Her black bra was semi-transparent and her darker nipples were clearly visible. Moving his eyes lower, he felt his erection strain beneath his trousers as his greedy gaze settled on her sexy black thong. ‘Did you choose your underwear for me?’
‘Yes.’ She gave him a shy smile and he felt a tightness in his chest. It was just sexual attraction t
hat made him ache in a way he never had before, he told himself. How could it be anything else? Emotions played no part in what he wanted from Isla and all he felt for her was lust. Satisfied that he was in control of the situation, he removed her bra and could not stifle a groan of raw desire when he cupped her bare breasts in his palms.
A saint would find her irresistible, and Andreas knew that he had been damned a long time ago. He stripped off his clothes and his heart gave a kick when her eyes widened as she stared at his powerful erection. He needed to slow things down, but when he pulled her down with him onto the bed the silken glide of her skin against his made him catch his breath. Supporting his weight on his elbows, he looked into her eyes, which were smoky with passion.
‘Do you have any idea how many nights I’ve dreamed of doing this?’ he muttered, not caring that his admission might betray the urgency of his need for her. He kissed her mouth, teasing her lips apart with the tip of his tongue.
She tasted of honey and the sweet ardency of her response tugged a little on his heart and made him wish for something he could not begin to explain. He liked the low moans she made when he cradled her breast in his palm and rubbed his thumb pad across her nipple until it was stiff and hard, before he transferred his attention to her other breast. Her skin felt like satin as he trailed his lips over her flat stomach and down to the neat triangle of gold curls between her thighs.
‘Andreas!’ Her shocked gasp made him smile. ‘I’m not sure...’
‘Let me show you,’ he said thickly, moving down the bed so that he was kneeling over her and gently pushed her legs apart. He took a moment to study her as she lay there, all flushed and pink with sexual warmth. When he had first met Isla at his father’s house in London, a lifetime ago it seemed, he had wanted to shatter her cool composure, and the knowledge that he was about to do just that made his heart pound with anticipation.
With a low growl Andreas lowered his head and ran his tongue over her moist opening. She gave a whimper and threaded her fingers into his hair but did not try to pull him away. He slid his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her towards his mouth. The scent of her arousal was the sweetest perfume and he felt the throb of his painfully hard erection. But he ignored his urgency. This was about Isla and he was compelled to satisfy her needs before his own.
And so he pressed his mouth against her feminine core and licked his way inside her. He explored her with his tongue and heard her cries grow louder as she arched her hips and dug her nails into his shoulders. Finally he found the tight little nub of her clitoris and sucked it. The effect was explosive.
Isla shattered around him and the keening noise she made was the most erotic sound Andreas had ever heard. It evoked a wholly primitive response in him, a need to claim his woman. He took a condom from the bedside drawer and quickly sheathed himself. Isla’s eyes were closed and her breaths came in fast pants. She lifted her lashes and stared at him, her passion-stunned gaze mixed with a vulnerability which mocked Andreas’s belief that nothing existed in his chest but a hollow void.
He shoved the disturbing thought away and positioned himself over her. ‘Tell me what you want,’ he demanded.
Her lips curved into a sweet smile that made the hollowness inside him expand. ‘You, Andreas. I want to feel you inside me.’
He closed his eyes to block out the image of her golden beauty, her slender, lithe body so ripe and ready for him. Theos, he was going to come before he’d even touched her. It had never happened to him before. Breathing hard, he somehow regained control of his libido and pressed the tip of his erection against her opening. She was slick and hot and he groaned as he slid deeper, forcing himself to take it slow as her internal muscles stretched to accommodate him.
It felt good. So, so good. He let out a ragged breath and thrust deep, heard her give a soft gasp as he withdrew a little way and then drove into her again. She matched his rhythm, lifting her hips to meet each hard stroke, while she clung to his shoulders and tipped her head back, giving him perfect access to her lips. He kissed her hungrily, the taste of her sweet breath filling his mouth and the delicate floral scent of her perfume assailing his senses until he could not say where he ended and she began. They moved together as one, their bodies in total accord in a timeless dance that quickly built to a crescendo.
It couldn’t last. It was too intense and he knew he was losing control. Gritting his teeth, he increased his pace, each thrust faster and harder than the last, driving them both to the edge. He slipped his hand between them and rubbed his thumb over the sweet, tight heart of her. She bucked against him and sobbed his name, shuddering with the force of her orgasm. And only then did Andreas’s control crack and he pressed his face into her neck and groaned as wave after wave of pleasure engulfed him.
A long time afterwards he rolled off her and lay on his back, shocked by how much he hated being separated from her. Alarm bells rang inside his head. It was just sex, he reminded himself. Amazing sex, it was true, but it did not mean anything to him. It never had and it never would. Did Isla understand that?
He wondered if she would cuddle up to him and he would have to tactfully extricate himself from the inherent danger of post-sex emotions—hers not his. He wasn’t into the whole cuddling thing. But when he turned his head towards her, he discovered that she had moved across to her side of the mattress and was fast asleep.
Of course he was relieved that she wasn’t the clingy, needy type, he told himself. But the thought that she was unmoved by their tumultuous passion which had blown his mind was unsettling. Cursing beneath his breath, he rolled onto his side, fighting his awareness of her, so close to him and yet a million miles away. The pale glimmer of dawn slipped through the slats in the blinds before he finally fell asleep.
Isla stretched luxuriantly as she woke from a deep sleep. Her body ached in unexpected places but it was not an unpleasant feeling. She opened her eyes and stared at the clock. Eight thirty! Loukas usually woke for a feed at around seven a.m. Her panic subsided when she remembered that the baby had stayed with Toula the previous night—so that she and Andreas could spend some time together!
She turned her head on the pillow and stared into his bright blue eyes. Her hand moved to her throat and she traced her finger over the topaz pendant he had given her on her birthday because the stone was the colour of their baby son’s eyes. It had been such a thoughtful gesture but she must not read too much into the present or Andreas’s devastating tenderness when he had made love to her so exquisitely, she told herself.
‘You look serious this morning. Is that because you regret spending the night with me?’
Did he? Isla wondered. Andreas’s expression was unreadable, and old habits meant that for a moment she was tempted to say that last night had been a mistake. If she rejected him first she wouldn’t feel so bad if he said he regretted making love with her. But she hadn’t been the only one to have come apart utterly. Passion had overwhelmed both of them and the groan Andreas had made as he’d climaxed inside her had sounded as though it had been ripped from his soul.
‘I don’t regret anything about last night,’ she said honestly. She wondered if she’d imagined a look of relief that flashed in his eyes. He smiled and her heart skipped a beat.
‘Good.’ He kissed her mouth, slow and sweet but with the promise of more. ‘Last night was incredible. You are incredible, glykia mou.’ He knelt over her and caught her chin in his fingers to that she couldn’t look away from him. ‘Why did you have sex with me?’
Was he worried that she had fallen in love with him? The truth slammed into Isla like a speeding bullet aimed at her heart. Right back when she had been Stelios’s housekeeper in London and Andreas had visited his father, she had felt an inexplicable connection with him. Love at first sight was something she’d thought only happened in romance films and novels. She couldn’t be in love with Andreas, she told herself desperately. Her heart contracted as she
was forced to accept the truth she had tried to deny. A harsher truth was that Andreas did not love her. But he desired her and he wanted them to bring up their son together.
She searched his hard-boned face for a hint of softness that might indicate he felt something for her other than desire, but there was none. ‘I decided that you were right,’ she said lightly, although it cost her to keep her wild emotions out of her voice. Andreas’s brows lifted in silent query and she explained. ‘We are sexually compatible and there seemed no point in denying that you turn me on.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘That’s the only reason?’
‘What other reason could there be?’ she countered. ‘We both want to be full-time parents to Loukas, and we’re good in bed. The sensible solution is for us to be together.’
Something flickered on his face that she could not define and, although he gave her one of his heart-melting smiles, his eyes were cool and guarded. ‘It’s good that you are so sensible,’ he said drily.
He lowered his head so that his mouth was a whisper away from hers, but Isla held him off with her hands flat against his chest. She was afraid to make love with him when her emotions were on a knife-edge, scared of what she might reveal while they were as close physically as they could be.
The warmth of his body seeped into her, melting her resistance, and with a sigh she wound her arms around his neck and urged his mouth down on hers. She told herself she was imagining a tenderness in his kiss. At first his lips were warmly persuasive, teasing hers apart and encouraging her response, which she could not deny him. As always, passion exploded between them and the kiss became a ravishment of her senses. He trailed his mouth down her throat and along her collarbone, while she ran her fingers through the dark silk of his hair and arched her trembling body towards his in mute supplication.
Andreas muttered something in Greek as he knelt up and shaped her breasts, tested their weight and rubbed his thumb pads across her nipples until they were stiff and tingling.
Proof Of Their Forbidden Night (Mills & Boon Modern) Page 13
