by Sun Chara
“Amazing.”
He flashed her a killer smile, his cheek grooved in that elongated dimple…and oh my, he looked so devastatingly handsome, her stomach jittered.
“What’s your pleasure?” He fanned the packets with his fingers like playing cards. “Orange cinnamon, cherry zinger, passion fruit.”
“Cherry.”
Tossing the teabags on the counter, he flipped a couple of mugs from the cupboard, took her chosen teabag and opening it, dropped it in the cup.
“Aren’t you going to have any?”
“Not my—” he began, and then changed his mind. “Passion sounds like a possibility.”
A moment loaded with innuendo, but thankfully, the kettle whistled, and Julia twisted away from his searching gaze. Pressing the off button, she picked up the kettle and poured hot water into her mug. The soothing scent of cherry blossom filled the kitchen, and then she turned to fill his mug.
“Here let me.” He reached to take the pot from her hand, but she spun away so abruptly, a drop of hot liquid splattered on her hand.
“Ohh,” She jerked, dropping the kettle so quickly that it clattered on the counter, and she reached for the faucet. But Michalis was ahead of her, and taking her hand, placed it under the cold stream.
“It’ll sting at first,” he said, his tone gruff, making her wonder if there was a double meaning in his words. “But then it’ll dull to a throb.”
She’d been stung times a million when she’d left him—then, she caught herself up from recalling what was best forgotten. A wheeze of a breath, and a sliver of sound on exhale. “I’m tougher than I look.” She’d had to be. Learned to be.
Must learn to be again.
He smiled, and had her pulse tripping. Crazy stuff, she mused, jitters skipping through her.
“As I’m fast discovering.” When the water stopped gushing, he lifted her hand to his mouth and flicked his tongue over the injury. “Better?” he murmured, his breath a coolant upon her scalded skin.
“Much, thanks.” She made to withdraw her hand from his grasp, but he continued his ministrations; a kiss on her palm then her fingers, before drawing each digit into his mouth. Then he blew upon each one, his breath tingling her skin, sending erotic impulses through her body, tightness in her breast.
“Michalis,” she gasped, and he lifted his head, his mouth a hair-breadth from her lips.
Time stood still, and then his mouth crushed hers. His kiss was an explosion of desire, anger, exasperation, frustration and lust. For it couldn’t be the other deeper emotion, could it? A whimper bumped its way from her throat to her mouth, but he lapped it up with his tongue.
She sagged against him, her breath mingling with his, and his tongue seduced her into a waltz of the senses. Banishing the fuzzy warning at the back of her mind, she joined him in the sensual dance to another tempo in her brain. One time, one last time with him, and she could close the chapter on Michalis Leonadis.
Wrong.
He wanted twenty-seven nights with her.
Well, the countdown would have to begin with night number one, wouldn’t it? And with that thought, she curved in to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers weaving through his hair. This bittersweet interlude would have to last her a lifetime. The man she…oh dear God…she loved him, always would be a slave to her feelings for Michalis Leonadis.
That’s why she had to ‘pay up’ and get the heck out of there.
He loved her not.
Otherwise, she’d be an emotionally challenged wretch, knowing he only wanted her to satisfy his lust for revenge. For their daughter’s sake, she had to sever her personal ties with the only man who made her senses sing.
“Julia…” he rasped her name deep in his throat, and reading her clear signal, swept her up in his arms.
“Michalis mou…” She nuzzled his neck, her words muffled, her arms holding him tight.
He strode from the kitchen, crossed the living room, bumped into a settee, smothered an oath, his mouth smiling against hers, and marched into the bedroom, booting the door closed.
He set her on her feet, his hands spanning her waist, then gradually his fingers inched upward to the zipper. Slowly, he drew the zip down, the tips of his fingers igniting sparks of fire along her spine.
“Not fair,” she mumbled into his neck.
“All’s fair in…” he breathed into her ear. Sliding his hand around her midriff, and upward, he cupped her breast.
Drawing a gasp from her, he drank the sound in with his mouth, his thumb dallying at her nipple. He slid his mouth along her jaw and lower, nuzzling her nape, his hand explored her abdomen, swerved beneath the loose material and palming her tush, pulled her smack against his arousal.
While he shimmied the gown over her hips, she unbuttoned his shirt, sliding her hands up his chest, then down, flicking his belly button, and tugging at his belt buckle.
An indrawn breath, and he covered her hand with his. “This way.” He unbuckled his belt, and fell into her hands. “No going back,” he panted into her bosom, his fingers creating a riot in her hair.
“I-I know,” she breathed the words, stroking his length, her pulse deafening in her ears.
“In that case…” He lifted her up, swung her around and tumbled on the bed with her. Joy bubbled from her in a nervous giggle, and he claimed it with his mouth, his hands holding her head steady for the sensual onslaught.
The air sizzled with sexual fervor.
His thumbs feathered the pulse points at her throat and his mouth inched that way, feasting on the erratic beat. He nibbled his way to the swell of her breast, tugging at one nipple with his teeth, then his tongue swirled on the shadowed peak, and he took it fully into his mouth.
A purr from deep in her throat, and she arched up into him, clutching his shoulders, her fingers pressing into his flesh. His hand flirted with her other breast, and then he straddled her, an erotic rhythm pulsing between them.
Desire looped in her belly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands lost in the curls at the nape of his neck, her mouth gliding across his jaw to his mouth. A hot beat, and his hand slid down her midriff to her abdomen, his mouth following with a flick of his tongue at her navel, his fingers inching lower to fondle the curls between her thighs.
“Julia, my hea—” But her moan of delight drowned out what he’d been about to confess, his fingers working their magic on her sleek moistness.
“Michalis, I lo—” He crushed her mouth in a telling kiss, smothering her confession, and shifting his body, he positioned himself above her.
As his tongue plundered her mouth, he plunged into her, pulled back and drove deeper and higher inside her, matching the frenzied rhythm in her mouth. She wrapped her legs around him, drawing him in, her fingernails raking across his shoulder blades.
“Julia, agape mou…” he panted, with each thrust.
“Michalis mou,” she gasped into his mouth. Spasms rocked her body, coiled and burst in a flare of sensation inside; a second later he got his release, and slumped against her.
He cherished her in his arms, her body curved close to his, her head upon his heart, her hair splayed across his chest. “Time out, my love,” he murmured. As he brushed back moist curls at her temple, he lay claim to the spot with his lips and drew the covers over them.
Fluttering her lashes closed, Julia dozed, but after what seemed like moments, she was aroused, a smile curving her mouth. His leg stroked against hers and awakened her senses anew. She stirred, taking him into her arms, into her heart and into her body.
An explosion of sexuality…sounds, scents and sensual delight.
He made love to her over and over, until dawn invaded with a sliver of light against the curtains.
“Sweet dreams, my darling.” He caressed her cheek with his fingers, a fleeting kiss, his words drifting to her, but she was too drowsy to make sense of them.
Exhausted, she burrowed under the covers, a smile on her mouth, and slept in
the arms of the man she loved, the man she married…the man of her dreams.
*
A sunbeam played fickle with her eyelids, and Julia fluttered her lashes open, the smile still plastered to her mouth. Feeling like she hadn’t a care in the world, she stretched her limbs and her body hummed, although a little sore. The pleasure and the pain, she mused. She’d had both, and she much preferred the passion with her one and only love.
“Michalis mou,” she breathed his name and reached out for him.
But her hand brushed the vacant space next to her.
Slowly she turned, and numbness crawled upward from her toes, stiffening her muscles in ice. Her heart pounded and her pulse leaped into her throat. He’d tossed the rumpled sheets aside on his side of the bed, and the note on the manila envelope propped up on his scrunched pillow, glared her in the face.
“Sleep in. Order breakfast. Check out 3 p.m.” The line beneath his scrawled initials delivered the final blow. ‘P.S. Paid in full, agape mou.’
She should be thankful he’d left after the one night. Obviously, he’d changed his mind about the other twenty-six. She started to shake and clutched the sheets between her nerveless fingers. “You bast—” but the moan blasting from deep inside her, stifled her choice words.
She felt gutted. His scent still lingered on the sheets, a bitter reminder of her folly. She curled beneath the covers, tears welling up in her eyes and flowing down her cheeks, soaking her pillow. Moments dragged on, and although her tears eased some of the numbness from her body, it only made the ache more acute. A heave of a breath, then another, and swatting her damp cheeks with the back of her hands, she peeked at the clock on the bedside stand.
Twelve-noon.
He must’ve skipped out hours ago while she was still in La La Land.
A whimper, and she flipped on her back, threw her arm over her eyes, and tried to ignore the hollow in her stomach. With every fiber in her body aching, she pushed herself up on one elbow and snatched the envelope from his pillow. She drummed her fingers on the mattress and then socked the pillow, sending it flying across the room.
“Okay.” She felt better for a second, then a moan whipped through her, belying that idea. Scooting up, she leaned against the headboard, pushed the hair off her face with a quivery hand and tore open the envelope.
She scanned the contents, the signature, the date, and slumped against the pillows, blood seeming to drain from her every cell.
Through a blur of tears she acknowledged the trust fund for Amy was intact as he’d promised. But she blinked and blinked some more at the other document with her name emblazoned on it. How could this be?
Julia Armstrong named Lolita Armstrong’s beneficiary of fifty percent ownership in the Leonadis Boat Rentals and future assets from the business, now known as Leonadis International Cruise Line.
Tremors shook her body, and a whimper sounded from deep inside her. It had been her mother. Her mercenary mother that still haunted her.
Julia’s temples pounded. Heaving a quivery breath, she reread the document that made her half owner of the Leonadis’ billions. She keeled over on her side and giggled. The giggles grew to a hysterical pitch that made her eyes well up with new tears.
“I’m not poor.” She tossed the papers in the air and they fluttered around her, landing on the blankets. “I’m rich.”
She had an obscene amount of money, Michalis’ money. She sniffed, hiccupped, and swatted the tears from her cheeks; then realization had her nerves twittering.
And all because of her scheming mother; who had just given Julia the ammo to battle Michalis for her daughter. She didn’t know yet how her mother had pulled it off, but she could now fight Michalis, and with his own money.
Justice?
“Nope.” She dragged herself from the bed and stood in the center of the room, her legs nearly buckling beneath her. A cry, almost a whine vibrated in her throat. She pressed her hand to her mouth. Fear stemming from her past and imbedded in her psyche, snaked around her and immobilized her.
Was she a replica of her mother?
She wobbled and gripped the bedpost. Then the truth smacked her right in the chest, knocked the breath from her, and she collapsed onto the carpet.
It wasn’t Michalis. It was her, Julia; she had to make the choice, had to prove—
What had she done? Destroyed?
A knock sounded through the fog in her mind, and her heart lifted just for a second, until she realized Michalis wouldn’t knock; he had a key to let himself in.
“Ju-ust a minute.” She pushed herself up, grabbed a bathrobe from the bathroom and tying the sash around her waist, tottered to the door. “Coming.”
She flung the door open and clung onto the door handle, her knuckles whitening. “Ma-ria, what’re you doing here?” Then her words turned frantic. “Where’s my daughter?”
Maria grinned. “My beautiful niece is with her uncle.”
“Mario?” Her eyes narrowed. “Where?”
“Your pad.”
At her words, relief soared through Julia. “I have to get to her.” Guilt gnawed at her. “She needs me.”
“Amy’s having a blast with her Uncle Mario.” A giggle, then she squinted at her more closely, and the giggle dissipated in her throat. “By the looks of you—”
“What brings you here so early?” Julia nipped her words and backed away, still too raw for discerning eyes.
Maria lifted a shapely brow, tapped her wristwatch, but made no further reference to the time of day. A lift of her shoulder, and she strolled inside closing the door behind her. “Forgot to give you an invite to our anniversary party, last night.”
“Last night.” Julia teetered, the words skimming her numb lips, and Maria leaped for her before she crumpled to the floor.
“Something is wrong.” Maria helped her to the sofa and scanned the place. “Where’s that stubborn brother of mine?”
Julia pressed her fingers to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Tea?” Maria offered the quick remedy.
“Ye-es, please.”
Chapter 14
“The man deserved a tongue lashing,” Julia muttered beneath her breath, traipsing along the beach of Mermaid’s Grotto. “Obviously— ouch!” She bumped her toe against a log of driftwood, her irate soliloquy disrupted. “‘Paid in full’, agape mou,” Julia mimicked, rubbing her toe and clutching the manila envelope tighter in her hand. “Huh! Hardly.”
Why else put her through this?
She shaded her eyes with her hand and squinted out to sea, still glimmering in the waning sunlight. And why was she going along with it? A rip of angst, then her stomach clenched. She had to confront him on this. Wanted to come clean…wanted him to… Gut-spilling time.
A tremor tore through her, her shoulders drooped, and she almost backtracked.
It hadn’t taken Maria long to catch on; with the tea came talk, then a quick call to Mario—the shadowed figure in the photo of Maria and Michalis that Julia had despaired over on the yacht. And here she was now, about to face-off with Michalis.
If Michalis hadn’t delivered the document, she’d never have known she owned half of the global giant. Why had he done it? To get rid of her? Or to soothe his conscience?
“I’ll go, you stubborn Greek.” Julia slapped the rolled up envelope in her hand, wishing she could swat Michalis with it. “But when I’m good and ready.” Emboldened by her mutterings, she trudged on ready to do battle with one Michalis Leonadis.
A few yards further, she turned around an outcrop of barnacle-encrusted boulders, and saw him. She sagged against a flat rock, her heartbeat suspended for a second before thudding at supersonic speed.
Bare-chested and with his trousers rolled up, he stood knee-deep in the water and tossed in a fishing line. The muscles of his back contracted and a glaze of sweat glinted on his shoulders. Not daring to move yet, she remained in the shelter of the rocks, a puff of sea breeze cooling her sun-kissed face.
/> A wayward sunbeam crowned him, adding flecks of gold to his hair, and for a moment it became so bright, she couldn’t see him. The ray dipped beneath the horizon, and she spotlighted him. He was more devastating half-dressed in his roguish casuals with the surf crashing around him than in his sophisticated urban threads.
She glanced up at the sky streaked with color, then back at him, air filtering from her mouth in a shaky stream. Michalis Leonadis, a man of both worlds, a man who could sit with peasants and kings. The man she’d married for better or worse. Dare she hope the best was still possible for them? She’d been such a fool to believe the worst of him instead of—
He glanced her way, spotted her in his laser-beam focus, and then ignored her. This was not going to be easy, but guess she owed him this one. She walked closer, the sand squishing between her toes, the foam of the waves washing over her feet, and stopped several yards from him. A fresh dose of ocean air filled her lungs, the sea-tang making her cheeks tingle and reviving her after her flight from Paris in the Leonadis jet.
“Michalis.” She waded in, until she stood beside him, the water rippling around her knees.
He reeled in his catch…
Her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she accused. “You had the trust deed for Amy drawn up a month ago, before—”
“Before you agreed to…entertain me?” He turned her way and cocked an arrogant brow.
Which meant this whole fiasco had not been so much for Amy, but for sheer revenge. He must hate her. A sick feeling unfurled in her stomach, and clenching her teeth, she held the document tight against her bosom. But hadn’t she provoked him in a colossal way? She’d rushed to judgment…her actions rocked their marriage, his fortune, and his reputation.
But still he’d secured Amy’s future, and Julia’s, albeit via her mother’s devious devices.
She ignored his query. “Explain.” She wanted to stamp her foot, but she couldn’t get enough traction to do it on the sandy ocean floor.
He chuckled, the sound dry as that driftwood she’d stubbed her toe on earlier. “Would you have believed me, Julia?” he bit out, his cool gaze a barrier between them.
