Maybe she did whimper. His fingers were so strong, so firm. So unexpected.
Then he reached down to pick up her other foot, and once more strong fingers kneaded her sole, stroked her toes.
“Better?”
She nodded. Her feet felt boneless. Her body was quivering. Her eyes flickered shut. “Then dance with me.”
Her eyes flew open. She stared. It was almost totally dark. His expression was unreadable. There was a rough edge to his voice.
“No flashbulbs here,” he said. “But we can still hear the music.” Then he lifted her feet off his lap and stood, holding out his hand to her.
Anny swallowed. Then she stood and went into his arms. She felt them close loosely around her, then tighten, fitting their bodies together. Her lips brushed his beard as she lifted her face. Then he rested his cheek against her hair.
She slid her hands up his back, and relished the feel of the soft cotton and hard muscle under her palms. Her fingers caressed the nape of his neck, kneaded and stroked, then traced the curve of his ear.
It was heaven. Eternity. She memorized every touch, every movement, the pounding of his heart against hers. She didn’t ask why. She only knew joy. Dared to believe.
And then the music stopped.
He didn’t step away. He stayed there, stood there, holding her. Then a long while later, when the music began again—something light and lively this time—he lifted his head and she reached up and touched his bearded cheek, lay her palm against it and knew she would never forget the feel.
He took her hand and opened it to kiss the center of her palm.
Anny felt a shiver of longing run through her. “Please,” she whispered.
Their gazes locked, held.
A sound caught in his throat. And then he took her and drew her toward the stairs.
Maybe it was because she didn’t use the word love.
Maybe it was because he was at the end of his rope.
Maybe—and this was what she dared hope for most of all—he finally believed in the love she felt for him and was learning he loved her in return.
He never said. She didn’t ask.
It was enough tonight to simply show him. No past, no future—only now.
They were kissing again before they got down the companionway steps. She nearly fell on top of him.
“Careful.” He caught her and began undressing her.
They barely made it to her cabin. He scooped her up and laid her on her bunk, then came down beside her, his hands tugging her shirt over her head as hers did the same to his.
She raked her fingers over the soft, yet wiry, hair on his chest, even as he cupped her breasts and bent to kiss them through the lace of her bra. But it wasn’t enough. His fingers fumbled for only a moment with the clasp, and then he had it off and was kissing her there again.
She grabbed his hair in her fists and tugged. He lifted his head to say, “You don’t like that?”
“I like it. I—” She shifted, unable to say what she wanted, what she liked. “It makes me…want more.”
And he promised, “There will be more.”
He kissed her again, down the center of her chest, then each breast in turn. He laved them, teased them, made her nipples peak and her body move restlessly on the bunk.
And then he was skimming the rest of their clothes off and stroking her, starting at her feet, kissing her knees, letting his fingers wander up her thighs.
Anny bit her lip, trembling at the sensations he caused. But it wasn’t only the sensations, it was the man. It was Demetrios she loved. And her own fingers reached to touch him, to trace their way down his belly, following the line of dark hair to the core of his masculinity.
She ran her fingers through the thatch of dark hair at the juncture of his thighs, trailed the tip of one finger along the length of him. He sucked in a sharp breath.
“Anny!”
“What?”
But then his fingers found her, too, dipped in and caressed her, and she didn’t need to ask “what” anymore. She knew. She shivered and pressed against his fingers.
Then he nudged her knees apart and settled between them. He loomed over her, his eyes hooded, the skin taut across his cheekbones, his face more beautiful now than she had ever seen it.
She touched him again, stroked him. Learned the shape and hot silken texture of him. She hadn’t dared do this last time. She barely dared now. And as soon as she had, she wanted to do it again. And again.
A breath hissed between his teeth. “Anny.”
“Yes,” she said.
“Now,” she said.
“Please,” she said.
At that, a sudden laugh caught in his throat. And then he slid into her. Her own breath caught.
Perfect. Union.
His eyelids fluttered. His head tipped back, the chords of his neck stood out. For a long moment he held himself perfectly still. And then he began to move.
And Anny moved with him. Rocked him. Held him.
And the two of them shattered together. Their solitary beings broken, splintered by their climax.
But as she ran her fingers lightly down his sweat-slicked back, in her heart Anny made them whole together in her love.
CHAPTER TEN
THEY WERE ALREADY underway the next morning by the time Anny awoke.
That had never happened before. She’d always awakened the moment the engine started. Not this morning.
But she’d never before had a night like last night, either. She rolled over in Demetrios’s bed, feeling more amazing than she’d ever felt in her life. He was gone, of course. The sheet was cool. So was the pillow. He hadn’t stayed, but it didn’t matter—because he loved her.
When you make love again, you should get it in return. You deserve it. He had said those words to her. He wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t.
She reached for his pillow, picked it up and brought it against her face, drawing in a deep breath and, with it, the subtle scent of him—sea and salt, a faint hint of some sort of balsam shampoo, and something essentially Demetrios.
She hugged the pillow to her as she’d held him last night, wrapping her arms around it, clinging as if she would never let go. Of course she had. And he had gone.
But he loved her. She knew it.
She got up and took a shower, long and leisurely, discovering as she did so that her body felt different now. Muscles she had barely known she had were a little sore, a delicious reminder of her night of love with Demetrios.
She washed her hair, combed it long and straight, then dressed in a pair of her own new shorts, but chose to wear Demetrios’s NYU T-shirt with it. It was hers.
And she was his.
She took her time, savoring the moments, making breakfast for the two of them before she took the eggs and ham up to him. She felt fresh and loved and yet oddly self-conscious as she climbed the stairs and smiled at him.
He saw her the instant she appeared. There was no answering smile.
He said, “I’m sorry.”
Anny stiffened, felt as if she’d been slapped. “Sorry? You didn’t like it?”
“Of course I liked it. It was…amazing. But…I’m sorry it happened. It shouldn’t have.”
Stung, tears springing to her eyes and blinking rapidly because she was damned if she was going to cry, she retorted. “Oh? And do you say that to all the girls?”
Demetrios’s knuckles went white on the wheel. “No, damn it, I don’t. Because ordinarily I don’t make mistakes like that.”
“You married Lissa.”
He jerked as if she’d slapped him.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. Then retracted the apology at once. “No, I’m not. I’m sorry you had a bad marriage. I’m sorry she hurt you. I’m sorry—beyond sorry—she aborted your child and destroyed your dreams. I’m sorry she’s dead. But I am not Lissa!”
“No,” he said roughly. “You aren’t. You’re worth a thousand of her. You’re worth a thousand of me. You
deserve a whole hell of a lot better than what happened between us last night.”
“Thank you very much,” she said tightly. “Not.”
“Hell, Anny.” He raked a hand through his hair. “See? That’s why it was a mistake. You care!”
“So do you!”
“No.”
“Liar. You said when I made love next I deserved to get it in return. I got it last night.”
His jaw clenched. He looked away, shaking his head, then finally back at her. “I care about you, yes,” he allowed.
“Big of you,” she muttered.
“Which is exactly why it was wrong. I was wrong. I was…caught up in the moment. God, that sounds asinine. I wanted a memory, too! But I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have raised your expectations. I shouldn’t have—”
“Oh, you raised my expectations, did you? Did you think I was coming up here to propose marriage this morning?”
A harsh line of red lit his cheekbones. “I hope not,” he said flatly. “Because while it was wrong, it doesn’t change anything.”
It changed everything. He just didn’t know it yet. But she didn’t say it. This wasn’t something she could convince him of by argument. He had to come to know it in his gut the same way she did.
He had further to go. She needed to give him time.
“I love you, Demetrios.”
He flinched at her words. His teeth came together and he shook his head. “Don’t.”
She smiled through her pain. “Too late now.”
“It’s not,” he insisted.
“Yes,” she said firmly. “It is.”
And that was the absolute truth.
They reached Santorini late that afternoon.
A man instantly identifiable as a Savas was waiting at the dock. She knew Demetrios had radioed Theo to say what time they would be arriving. It was obvious he hadn’t bothered to say that he wasn’t alone.
Theo’s curiosity was instant and obvious. Demetrios was determinedly offhand. “This is Anny. Anny, my brother Theo. Anny lives in Cannes. She’s a doctoral student, working on her dissertation. She needed a break for a couple of weeks, so she came along to crew for me.”
Theo grinned. He took Anny’s hand in his big callused one and gave it a squeeze. “Doctoral student, huh? Impressive. Smart and beautiful. Little brother’s taste is improving.”
Demetrios looked up sharply from the line he was stowing. “She’s not—”
Theo lifted a brow. “Not smart? Not beautiful? Not single?” he challenged.
Anny couldn’t help but laugh.
Demetrios’s teeth came together with a snap. He stood up abruptly. “Don’t just stand there. Get my gear and I’ll take Anny’s. She’ll be staying at Lucio’s.”
“Ma won’t hear of it.”
“Ma won’t—” Demetrios stopped dead and turned his head to stare narrowly at his brother. “Ma’s not here. Theo, tell me she’s not here.”
Theo shrugged helplessly “What can you do? It’s their house.”
Demetrios muttered something under his breath. For a moment Anny thought he might balk, leave her there and head straight back out to sea. He seemed to be considering his options. Theo gave Anny a conspiratorial look, but just waited patiently.
Finally Demetrios sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “You knew,” he accused his brother.
“I didn’t, actually. Martha might have,” he allowed. “Ma works in mysterious ways. And, let’s face it, she wants to see you.”
Demetrios appeared to grind his teeth. Then he nodded. “Right. Let’s get it over with.”
The Savas house, which had originally belonged to Theo’s wife Martha’s family, and was now shared by both extended families, had been expanded by their taking over houses on both sides.
“Room for everyone,” Theo told her as he tossed their duffel bags into his car. He gestured up the steep hillside overlooking the town of Thira. “It’s a great place. Best thing the old man ever won.”
Anny gave him a quizzical look. “Won?”
So while he drove them up the narrow winding road, Theo regaled her with the tale of the sailboat race that he, in fact—not his father—had won against Aeolus Antonides. It was a tale of golf games and sailboat races and in the end it had garnered them a share of the lovely old house. “And my wife,” Theo said. “And Tallie’s husband.”
Anny’s eyes widened. She’d only heard of these people. Demetrios had talked about his family growing up. He’d not been very forthcoming about more recent years. But there was no time to ask now because as Theo finished, he was pulling to a stop in front of the walled steps leading up to the house.
“Come on, then, prodigal son,” Theo said cheerfully, giving his brother a cuff on the shoulder before he opened the door.
Truer words were never spoken, Anny thought as she watched from the backseat. For the minute Theo opened his car door, the gate to the walled stairway banged open and a veritable horde of people of all sizes and ages hurtled out onto the pavement.
A pretty young dark-haired woman grabbed Demetrios before he could even get out of the car. An older man who must have been his father did pull him out, and he was immediately wrapped in the arms of a woman who could only be Demetrios’s mother. She was talking and laughing and crying all at the same time.
Demetrios looked stunned. He moved stiffly at first, but then his arms came up and wrapped hard around his mother and his father as well. He bent his head, kissed them both. And then he was completely enveloped by all of them, then swept up the stairs, leaving her in silence.
Theo opened the car door for her and offered her a lopsided grin. “They do the prodigal thing pretty well, don’t they?”
Anny swallowed the lump in her throat. “They do. And they should. It’s wonderful to see how much you all love him.”
“We do,” Theo agreed. He banged the car door shut. “Though he’s made it damn difficult these last few years.” He opened the boot and got out their duffel bags. “The folks haven’t seen him since Lissa’s funeral,” he told her. “No one in the family has except me. And I did because I turned up on his doorstep once without warning and he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t home.” He dropped their luggage on the pavement, then slammed the lid. “She has a lot to answer for, that woman.”
Anny was surprised. “You know about Lissa?” She didn’t think from what Demetrios said, he’d told anyone.
Theo snorted and confirmed it. “Not from him. He wouldn’t say a word. But I know my brother. I know what he’s like—what he was like,” he corrected himself. “She wasn’t good for him. She changed him. I’m sorry she’s dead,” he said gruffly. “But I’m not sorry she’s out of his life.”
Which pretty much summed up her own feelings, Anny thought.
“It’s a relief to see him with you, let me tell you.” Theo held open the gate to the stairs for her and she passed gratefully from the blistering heat of the midday sun to the relative coolness of the trellised bougainvillea-shaded stairs that wound upwards toward the house.
“He’s not—We’re not…together,” Anny felt compelled to say, however much she wished it weren’t true.
Theo stopped and narrowed his gaze at her. “No? Who says? Him? Or you?”
Anny couldn’t help smiling at how well Theo had assessed the situation. “Demetrios.”
A grin slashed across Theo’s tanned face. “Ah, well. As long as you don’t say it.”
Anny didn’t say anything at all because they had reached the front door, which stood open to a wide entryway leading to an open living room full of the same jumble of people. She didn’t see Demetrios.
“Ma will be feeding him,” Theo said. “Come on and meet the family. There won’t be a quiz at the end or anything, so relax. They don’t bite.”
He took her from group to group and introduced her to their sister Tallie, who turned out to be the young woman who had opened the car door, her husband Elias, and their children, another brother, Y
iannis, who was arguing with a guy called Lukas who might have been Elias’s brother, but Anny wasn’t sure.
She met Martha, Theo’s wife, who kissed both her cheeks and said, “Have we met? You look familiar?” She seemed to be studying Anny closely.
Quickly Anny shook her head. “No. I haven’t met any of Demetrios’s family.”
Martha laughed. “Lucky you. But then, we’re glad to have you. And if you survive all the Savases and the Antonideses, we’ll know you deserve him. Good luck.”
So it seemed that more than just Theo thought they were “together.” Anny was pleased, though she didn’t imagine Demetrios would be.
“He’s a good man, Demetrios,” Martha said. “Almost as good as this one,” she said, slipping her arm around Theo’s waist.
Anny envied them their obvious love, their easy closeness. She saw the same thing again between Tallie and Elias. He had one of their twins on his shoulders and the other hanging off one arm, but his free arm was around his wife as he talked to Yiannis and Lukas. The joy of connection—of a relationship based on true love and commitment—was so clear. So obvious.
Anny wanted it so badly. With Demetrios.
She wondered if her yearning showed on her face for Theo said suddenly, “Come on out to the kitchen. You need to meet the folks.”
Malena and Socrates Savas welcomed her with open arms and profound apologies.
“We didn’t realize Demetrios was bringing a guest,” his mother said. “We are so happy to meet you. So glad he brought you. Where are you from? Who are your parents?”
“She’s a friend, Ma,” Demetrios cut in before she could reply. “She crewed for me. That’s all.”
Malena raised a brow, then said. “Of course, dear.” But it didn’t stop her from studying Anny closely, then nodding and patting her cheek. “You have done him good.”
“Ma!”
Malena ignored him. “Come.” She steered Anny to a chair in the kitchen. “Sit down. Eat.”
The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of activity—of siblings and in-laws, nephews and nieces, all of them eager to welcome Demetrios home again.
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