by Jane Porter
He was examining her, a possessive light in his eyes, his dark gaze burning and intent. Hungry.
Carnal.
Her heart thudded so hard it hurt to breathe, and she couldn’t look anymore, overwhelmed by his intensity and the rawness of his desire.
She closed her eyes as his mouth touched the inside of her knee, and she sighed as his lips trailed up the inner thigh, kissing higher until he’d reached the edge of the lace. He stroked over the pantie and the fullness of her mound, and then slipped beneath the elastic, lightly tracing where she was wet and then sliding the wetness over her lips and clit.
His head dropped again, and he kissed where he touched, through the satin and then peeling the panties back, where she was pink and tender and glistening.
He did things with his tongue that made it impossible to breathe. He licked and stroked, lapped and sucked, and Georgia did not want it to end. She wasn’t ready to come, but he’d wound her so tightly, her nerves stretched, her body tense with pleasure that when he slipped his fingers into her and then stroked up even as he flicked his tongue over her sensitive clit, she exploded, climaxing so hard she cried out, and grabbed for Nikos’s shoulder, desperate to touch him, feel him, needing his strength to anchor her and keep her from blowing away.
“Amazing,” she whispered as he stretched out next to her. She pressed herself to his side, still craving his warmth and determined to keep him with her. He’d said he wasn’t going to walk away, but she wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t ready to let him go. “You are amazing,” she added.
He held her against him, and she was content to lie in the circle of his arm until her heart stopped beating so wildly, but as she relaxed, she realized he was still dressed and she was somewhat in disarray and he’d given her pleasure but it wasn’t what she’d hoped would happen.
“We need to get out of these clothes,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder, lightly raking her nails over his chest.
He kissed the top of her head and then her temple and the side of her cheek, murmuring, “I think now might be a good time to get you back to your room.”
“No. Can’t go yet,” she said, snuggling closer and lifting her face so that she could kiss him. She could taste herself on his lips and it reminded her of how giving he was, and how passionate, and how much she wanted to give him pleasure, too. “We haven’t even begun.”
“I don’t want you to have regrets.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, welcoming the crush of her breasts to his chest and the feel of his thigh as it moved between her legs. “My only regret would be not making love to you.”
“I have more scars.”
“I’ve seen them. They’re nothing.”
“They’re something.”
“I think they’re beautiful. They’re part of you.”
As he closed the balcony door and drew the curtains, she stripped off her clothes and then watched as he undressed.
Her eyes widened as his trousers fell and his shaft jutted up, long and thick and impressively erect. He turned off the lights, and she felt a little tremor of trepidation as he returned to bed, drawing the covers over them as the night was cool.
This had been her idea, but she was suddenly nervous. Or maybe it was excited. It was hard to know when her pulse was beating double time and she felt as if she couldn’t quite catch her breath.
Nikos pulled her against him, and she snuggled close, letting his powerful body warm hers, enjoying just being held. “Nervous?” he asked.
She nodded. “Just a little bit.”
“We don’t have to do anything.”
“I know.”
“Maybe you just sleep with me.”
“Okay,” she whispered, pressing even closer so that she could feel his hair-roughened chest scrape her breasts and his long legs intertwine with hers.
He was so warm, and he felt so big and protective. She couldn’t remember when she last felt so safe.
Georgia put her hand to his chest and caressed over his rib cage, feeling the ridge of muscle beneath the firm, smooth skin. She knew his scars were higher up, on one shoulder, and along his neck. She stroked his back, savoring each hard, taut muscle, and then up higher, to the shoulder where she encountered thickened skin.
She felt him tense but didn’t stop her exploration, caressing his broad shoulders and then down one thickly muscled arm.
“You have quite the hot bod,” she whispered.
“The scars don’t disgust you?”
“How could they? They are part of you.”
“I think you will make a very good doctor.”
She felt a pinch in her chest, a sharp reminder that this was all temporary, that she wasn’t his for keeps, that they were just playing a game, staying busy, until June...
He must have felt the shift in her mood because he rolled her onto her back, stopping her exploration. “We don’t have to do this.”
He sounded somber, almost grim, and she ran her hands up and down his arms. “Oh, yes, we do.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to be with you. I want to know what it’s like being your woman.”
* * *
For a split second Nikos couldn’t breathe, the air trapped in his lungs, his chest seizing closed.
She wanted to know what it was like to be his woman.
His woman.
There was fire in his eyes. A hot, gritty sting that echoed the burn in his chest.
He didn’t think he’d ever have another woman. He didn’t think he deserved a woman of his own.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone,” he said gruffly. “Years.”
“Not since Elsa?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like being so celibate?”
“It is better than hurting anyone.”
Her hands were on his chest, stroking over the muscle that covered his heart. “You won’t hurt me.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you’re a good man. An honest man. Not perfect but definitely likable.”
He dropped his head, kissed her lips and then her jaw and then lower. She lifted her chin, giving him access to her neck and sighing with pleasure as he found sensitive nerves.
Her hands were caressing him as he kissed her, stroking his stomach, his hip, his thigh before brushing light fingertips over his throbbing erection.
He gritted his teeth, holding back a groan as she wrapped a hand around his shaft, discovering his weight and heat and length.
It was all he could do not to pump into her, to hold still while she explored him, cupping him, stroking, running her thumb over the head of his shaft, rubbing the drop of moisture over the broad tip.
“You are very impressive,” she whispered.
“Let’s see if I remember how to do this,” he said, catching her hand to lift her arms above her head even as he settled his hips between her thighs.
She gave a deep, throaty sigh as he slowly eased into her.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, holding still.
“No. You feel so, so good.”
The edge of his lips lifted. “That’s encouraging, but I think I can make you feel much, much better.”
And he did.
* * *
Georgia woke in the night, surprised for a moment to find an arm around her, holding her, and then she remembered where she was and what they’d done and how incredibly satisfying it’d been.
She needed to use the restroom, but she didn’t want to wake Nikos. She lay there for several minutes trying to persuade herself that she didn’t really have to go, but she did.
“What’s wrong? Do you want to go back to your room?”
She turned to look at Nikos. She could just make out his face in the dark but couldn’t read his expression. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I haven’t slept.”
“What time is it?”
“Probably two thirty or three.”
“Why c
an’t you sleep?”
“I have you in my bed.”
“And it’s a small bed.”
“It is a small bed, but that’s not it. I’ve just enjoyed lying here, holding you. You feel good.” He smoothed her long hair back from her face. “Why are you awake?”
“I think the little guy kicked me, reminded me I need to use the bathroom.”
“I felt him move tonight.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“What did you think?”
“It’s amazing. A miracle.” His voice dropped, deepening. “That you’re a miracle.”
Georgia sat up and reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on. She blinked at the brightness of the light, but she wanted it on to see Nikos’s face. “I’m glad you finally were able to feel him move.”
“It’s rather incredible, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” He caught her hand, carried it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and then her palm. “Life changing.”
CHAPTER TEN
THEY RETURNED TO KATAPOLA, the main harbor, for a late breakfast after checking out of the hotel.
Nikos had wanted to stay in Chora for the meal, but Georgia pleaded to return to Katapola so they could have their last meal on Amorgós be at one of those charming restaurants on the bay.
In town, Nikos let Georgia pick the restaurant, and she took the task seriously, studying the outside of each place before examining the posted menus before finally selecting a small outdoor café close to the boats.
It was clearly a place for locals—and by locals, it appeared the local men—but Nikos entered and took a table on the shaded patio, ignoring the curious glances from the patrons already seated at tables.
They knew who he was, she thought as he held her chair for her. Just as the woman in the bakery had seemed to recognize him yesterday. Just as the woman behind the counter hadn’t been friendly, these men weren’t welcoming, either.
“I know you studied the menu outside, but almost everything was for lunch. Greeks don’t have a big breakfast. For some it’s just a coffee and cigarette, not that I’d recommend that for you,” he said. “For others, it might be some yogurt with almonds and honey, or maybe a slice of cheese pie or spinach pie.”
“So what would you suggest?”
“What are you hungry for?”
“Do you think they have eggs?”
“I’m sure they could cook eggs for you. I will ask.” He leaned back in his chair, looking carelessly at ease.
But Georgia wasn’t relaxed. She could feel the stares of the men at the table in the corner. It wasn’t comfortable. She shifted in her chair, trying to block them from view. “Have you been here before?”
“To this restaurant or the island?”
“Both.”
“Not to the café, but to the island, yes.”
She couldn’t help glancing back over her shoulder, her gaze sweeping the corner table as well as the pair at an adjacent table. Not one of the men smiled or nodded.
“Kind of an interesting energy,” she said.
“Very polite of you.”
She focused on him. “So you’re aware of the cold shoulder?”
“Absolutely. I’m not wanted here.”
“Why?”
“They are uncomfortable with me here.”
“Why?”
He didn’t immediately answer, and then he shrugged, wearily. “They call me teras. Thirio.”
Georgia silently repeated the words. “What does it mean?”
“It’s not important.”
“Tell me, Nikos.”
He sighed. “Monster.” He hesitated. “Beast.”
“What?” Her jaw dropped, shocked. “Why?”
He gestured to his face. “This.”
“That’s ridiculous. Those are burns. You were injured—”
“It bothers people here that I live and she does not.”
“Were you at the wheel?”
“No. I wasn’t even in the car.”
“Then how can they blame you?”
“It’s a small island. I live close by and yet I’m a stranger to them.”
“I find it hard to believe that’s why they call you such horrible things.”
“I’m an eccentric.”
“Yes, you are. But does that warrant such cruelty?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really care anymore. I just try to avoid this place. It’s why I didn’t want to come here. It’s why I stay on Kamari. It’s home.”
His refuge.
Georgia swallowed hard, hating what he’d told her and yet also understanding his desire to be alone. To have his own space. To be free of ignorant people’s hatefulness. “How do they even know about you and Elsa? Didn’t you meet her in Athens?”
“No. She was here on Amorgós on holiday with girlfriends, visiting from Oslo. They’d booked a villa for a number of weeks during the summer and while here, she met a handsome young man, a local fisherman named Ambrose, and they fell in love. He proposed. She stayed. The wedding was planned. And then she met me.”
“And she abandoned Ambrose for you.”
“Yes.”
“People took sides.”
“Yes.”
“And when she died in the accident, they blamed you.”
The edge of his mouth curved, but it wasn’t a smile. “You know the story already.”
“It’s horrible.”
“I am, yes.”
“No.” She frowned at him. “You’re not horrible. The story is horrible. And they are horrible, too, if they call you such terrible names. You are not a beast or a monster—”
“I don’t blame them. She’s gone and look at me.”
“I see you. And I think you’re beautiful.” And then Georgia shocked everyone in the café by leaning across the table and kissing him on the lips. “Let’s go back to Kamari,” she whispered. “I’m tired of playing tourist.”
* * *
It rained during the return trip to Kamari. The clouds had been gathering during the morning and by the time they boarded the boat at noon the sky was gray, the clouds ominously low.
“I am wishing I’d requested the yacht,” Nikos said, taking Georgia’s hand to steady her as she stepped into the low, sleek speedboat. “But maybe we’ll beat the storm.”
She’d had such a great day and a half on Amorgós, had loved her night with Nikos, enjoying every moment of their trip until they’d sat down in that café on the harbor.
Now it was hard to get the villagers’ cold stares out of her head. Nikos’s explanation didn’t help, as she sensed there were pieces missing from the story. She wanted to ask more questions but didn’t think this was the time. “I’m not worried about getting wet,” she said, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s just rain.”
“You might feel different when we’re flying at high speed across the water.”
The storm broke while they were halfway between Amorgós and Kamari, and there were a few drops and then the skies just parted and the rain came down hard, and the wind whipped at them. The rain was cold and fell in heavy wet sheets, pelting them. On the speedboat there was nowhere to go, and so the rain drenched them, water streaming from Georgia’s sweater when it could hold no more.
Nikos had offered his jacket when the first raindrops fell, but she’d refused. Now he simply overrode her protest and peeled off his coat, wrapping it around her slim shoulders and buttoning it over her chest.
“Nikos, I’m fine,” she laughed, pushing wet hair back from her face.
“You’re not. You’re chilled through,” he said. He reached out to touch her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Your skin is cold.”
“I’m not that cold.”
“You’ll get sick.”
“We’ll be back soon.”
“Not soon enough,” he said, drawing her into his arms and holding her securely against him. “Not taking chances.”
“You never do,” she answere
d as he shifted his hold, one of his arms circling her shoulders to keep her upright, while the other moved below the hem of his coat to clasp her waist.
She had been cold, but his body was warm, penetrating her damp clothes. She loved the feel of his hand on her waist, too. The intimacy of the touch wasn’t lost on her. From the beginning Nikos had been protective, and on Amorgós he’d remained close, always watchful, always there to lend a hand as she stood up or navigated a steep set of stairs, making her feel safe, desired.
It had been a long time since anyone was there for her. She’d grown accustomed to taking care of herself, taking care of others, and it was a novelty to have Nikos want to care for her.
Nikos’s hand at her waist was sliding down to her hip, and she sucked in air, eyes half closing, trying to ignore the faint shudder of pleasure.
“I knew you were freezing,” he said, his mouth near her ear, his warm breath stirring her senses.
She wanted to tell him he didn’t need to worry, that she wasn’t cold, just sensitive, her body still humming with emotion and sensation from their night of lovemaking.
The speedboat hit a wave and lifted. Nikos’s arm tightened around her, holding her steady.
Just then the baby kicked. Nikos’s head dipped. “I felt that,” he said.
Georgia’s heart turned over. A lump filled her throat. She put her hand over his, trying to control the panic rolling through her.
How was this going to work?
How was she going to do this?
How was she going to just get on a plane and leave Nikos and the baby?
* * *
Back on Kamari, Nikos disappeared into his room to shower and change and work, and Georgia did the same, except after her hot shower she couldn’t seem to settle down enough to focus on her books.
She sat on the couch and stared off into space, her attention drawn now and then to the window, where the rain drummed against the glass.
She had to study. The exam was important. Her future was important. Her goals hadn’t changed. Her priorities were still the same. Weren’t they?
But as the rain pounded on the roof and the wind howled outside, tugging at the old wood shutters, she found herself unable to see herself back in Atlanta.
