The Touch of Aphrodite

by Joanna Mansell

  His mouth hovered only inches away; she felt him make one last effort to draw back, and fail. Then the pressure of his lips made her breath catch in her throat, and the dark intensity of the kiss seemed to leave her body boneless.

  Nikolaos briefly released her and lifted her head. 'You said that my father's paintings showed that his soul was at peace. Well, that's what I need —a soul that's at peace, even if it's only for one night.' He gave a twisted smile.

  'Does that sound selfish and self-centred? I suppose that it does. But I don't care. For just one night of my life, I want to be free.'

  'And do you care what I want?' Emily said in a low tone. He shook her a little roughly. 'You know that I do. But you want exactly the same thing that I do.'

  'No,' she insisted. She wanted love and he wouldn't —couldn't —give her that.

  'Yes,' Nikolaos said inexorably. His palm slid over her hot skin, his mouth brushed against her bruised lips again. 'Whatever we both want for the future, tonight we both simply want this.' His fingers dipped suddenly, beneath the thin material of her dress to the small, hard peaks of her breasts.

  'You can lie to me,' he murmured, 'but your body can't." She shuddered violently as he touched her, and the shadow of a smile touched the taut corners of his mouth. 'You want more of this. And from no one else, just me."

  'You're so arrogant,' Emily accused helplessly, knowing that it was useless to deny that small, flickering tongues of fire were already running along all of her nerve-ends.

  'Only where you're concerned,' Nikolaos told her roughly. 'And you've every right to feel just as arrogant. No one else has ever been able to make me behave like this.'

  His fingers found the small buttons that fastened the front of her dress, they quickly, expertly undid them, and then his palm rested against the warm silkiness of her skin.

  Emily made a small sound in her throat, but it wasn't a protest. She had already gone way past the point where she could fight this. She adored this man too much, and right now it didn't matter that he didn't want her adoration, it was enough that he wanted something from her. Nikolaos's hands began to move again, very gently this time —she hadn't thought that he could ever be this gentle. They left a melting pleasure in their wake, slow, slow waves of an exquisite sensation that gradually intensified as his fingers explored more intimately.

  His mouth covered hers again, as if he wanted — needed —to taste her, and his hands busied themselves with the last of the fastenings of her dress, so that it slid softly from her shoulders. Then he bent his head to the soft swell of her breast and everything swiftly began to slide into confusion —his own breathing quickened and became unsteady, his hands weren't so gentle now, but increasingly demanding.

  'One night when we can both have what we want,' he muttered, the words muffled because his mouth was still buried against her hot, damp skin. He picked her up and swiftly carried her into the bedroom. There were no lights switched on, and in the darkness Emily heard his own clothes being quickly discarded. Then she found herself lying on the bed beside him, the musky scent of his skin dizzying her senses, his hot skin already brushing restlessly, urgently against hers, his hands, his mouth moved over her, his touch scalded her, his lips hungrily explored the softness of her breasts and roughly teased the hard, rawly sensitive tips, then trailed down over the quivering muscles of her stomach so that his tongue could lick the silky inner skin of her thighs, until Emily felt as if her entire world was about to explode and fall apart around her.

  Then Nikolaos raised his head and his voice sounded almost fierce in the darkness. 'Touch me,' he ordered thickly, and he gripped her hand and pulled it towards him.

  Immediately, Emily obeyed. She was discovering just how frighteninglv pleasurable it could be to obey a man's commands.

  His body was well shaped, hard and hot. His muscles stood out tautly under his smooth, damp skin as the caresses of her hands, tentative at first and then more confident, caused a new tension to quiver through him. She loved the feel of him, the sensual friction of skin against skin, the pleasure that it gave her to give him pleasure.

  'Enough!' Nikolaos muttered at last, his voice little more than a fractured gasp. But Emily didn't want to stop: she was fascinated —and awed —by the response of this powerful, controlled man to the soft touch of her fingers. She stroked him lightly, almost mischievously, forcing him to catch hold of her wrists and hold her hands away from him for a few frantic seconds while he fought to hold on to the last few strands of his self-control. It was a battle that was already lost, though. They both knew it, and Emily's arms were already slipping around him, drawing him closer. She felt his shuddering response, and then his heavy weight as he turned towards her, pulled her up tight against him. let his hands run over her in one last powerful, possessive caress, and then swiftly, easily, eased her into the ultimate intimacy.

  A faint tremor of shock ran through Emily, and a sudden, unexpected shyness. She had wanted — ached —for this, and yet part of her still hadn't been quite ready for it. She hid her face against his shoulder. Nikolaos's voice murmured soothingly even as his body began to move again, driven on by desire that he had no power to stop.

  The familiar sound of his voice reassured her, relaxed her, and with the relaxation came the realisation that her own body was already responding again with its own swift waves of pleasure, her skin was growing as hot as his, her nerve-ends as raw. The intensity of feeling swiftly grew; it began to make her feel dizzy. She held on to Nikolaos very tightly; she needed to hold on to something real in a world that was beginning to dissolve into a great spinning whirlpool of hot, liquid pleasure.

  And through all the turmoil, the heat, sweat and his own fierce desire, Nikolaos seemed to know exactly when the turbulent sensations he was creating spiralled to a tense, almost unbearable height; knew the exact moment when the final thrust of his shuddering body caused that pleasure to break and cascade over her in a bewildering flood of intense delight. Emily heard him say her name, again and again, as the last spasms of pleasure vibrated through him. No one had ever said her name quite like that before; she closed her eyes and let it add to the overwhelming sweetness of the moment.

  The pleasure slowly faded until only faint echoes of it remained, but the sweetness lingered on. Nikolaos didn't move for a long while, but then he finally eased himself up on one elbow and looked down at her in the darkness. His hand moved restlessly over her for a while, only finally becoming still again as it curled round the softness of her breast.

  'I wanted a soul that would be at peace,' he said in an uneven voice. 'But now I feel as if I'll never be at peace again in my entire life.'

  'Love isn't peaceful,' Emily said softly.

  "Which is why I don't want it in my life. But I have to have it tonight,'

  Nikolaos said almost hoarsely. 'I have to.'

  His hand began to move again, and his body pressed against hers with new urgency, already aroused by her closeness. Emily silently welcomed him back into her arms because, for this one night at least, he belonged to her. In return, she would give him anything he wanted. And something that he didn't want —her love.

  * * *

  They finally slept for a couple of hours just before dawn, a deep dreamless sleep that swallowed them up.

  When Emily finally woke up again, for a few moments she couldn't remember why her body should feel so heavy and languid. Then she suddenly remembered everything, and sat bolt upright. The bedroom was empty; there was no sign of Nikolaos. There were two dents in the pillow, though, where two heads had lain close together. Very close together. Emily gave a small shiver as she remembered just how close they had been.

  Where was he now, though? Very slowly, she got out of bed and walked over to the door. Had he simply gone? Left her here on her own? She shivered again as she considered that awful possibility.

  Then she heard the sound of voices. A man's and a woman's. The man's was clearly recognisable as Nikolaos. And the woman's? It sou
nded familiar, but Emily couldn't seem to think straight this morning, couldn't make her memory produce a face to fit the voice.

  A bathrobe was draped over the end of the bed, obviously left there for her by Nikolaos. Emily pulled it on, ran her fingers through her tangled curls, and then opened the door.

  Her head still felt dazed, her limbs heavy with the pleasure that had racked every inch of her last night. Without really thinking what she was doing, she headed towards the sound of the voices.

  She pushed open the door to the large, sun-filled room with its glorious views of the bay. Inside, she found Nikolaos standing by the window, already fully dressed. And standing opposite him was Sofia. Emily felt a distinct wave of shock as she saw the other woman. What was she doing here? Then she became starkly aware of the contrast between herself and the Cypriot girl. As always, Sofia was dressed in a simple but very sophisticated style. This morning, she wore pale linen trousers and a silk blouse, her nails were immaculately varnished, and expertly applied make-up emphasised her handsome features and dark, beautiful eyes. Emily stood there, barefoot, her hair tumbling haphazardly to her shoulders, and felt Sofia's hostile gaze fixed on her. The colour rose in Emily's face because she knew that it must be very obvious to the other woman what had happened here last night.

  It was impossible to tell from Nikolaos's own face what he was thinking. His eyes were cool and withdrawn as he faced his cousin.

  "It's very early in the morning, Sofia,' he said in a flat voice. 'And you haven't told me yet what you are doing here.'

  'I have some news for you,' Sofia said, her eyes bright with suppressed emotion. 'If Emily hasn't already told you?' she added.

  'Told me what?" Nikolaos demanded with sudden impatience.

  'That your mother is here, on Cyprus. She's staying at a house just outside Paphos.'

  Nikolaos became very silent and still, and Emily's own heart almost stopped beating.

  'How do you know this?' he said at last, in a very carefully controlled voice.

  'I met her last night. It was quite by chance; I came to Paphos to spend the evening with some friends, and saw Eleni walking along the street. We spoke for quite some time,' Sofia went on. 'In fact, we had a very interesting conversation.'

  'And why should Emily have been able to tell me that my mother is here?'

  Nikolaos said in a tone that Emily suddenly found quite terrifying. Triumph flashed at last in Sofia's eyes. 'Because she has known for a couple of days that Eleni is staying near Paphos. She has met her and spoken to her. In fact, she even agreed to help Eleni meet you. Your mother and Emily seem to be quite good friends, Nikolaos.'

  Nikolaos slowly turned to Emily, and the look on his face made her heart turn to stone. He was never going to forgive her for this deception, especially since he had broken all his own rules about personal privacy and confided to her his own very private bitterness towards his mother. Everything that had happened between them last night had just been destroyed by Sofia's deliberately malicious words.

  Emily felt her world beginning to fall apart around her, and knew that she would never be able to put it back together again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  NIKOLAOS 'S gaze fixed on Emily with a coldness that she found far more distressing than a fierce outburst of anger.

  'You have met my mother?' he said in a dangerously soft voice.

  'It was quite by accident,' Emily said almost in a whisper. 'And I was going to tell you.'

  'When?' he demanded more harshly.

  'I —I was waiting for the right time.'

  Sofia gave a brief, edged laugh which broke into their conversation. 'It seems to me that you've had plenty of time to talk during the past day —and night.'

  Nikolaos spun round, as if only just remembering that she was there. 'I think that it's time for you to leave, Sofia,' he said tersely. Sofia's face instantly changed. 'Leave?' she said, her voice fracturing slightly on that one word.

  'You've said what you came here to say,' Nikolaos said icily, looking at her now as if she were a stranger. 'Accomplished what you intended to accomplish.'

  'But I didn't mean —I didn't want —' Sofia stammered, her face first turning very pale, and then colouring as brightly as a young schoolgirl's, all her poise and sophistication suddenly deserting her.

  'To turn me against you?' Nikolaos finished for her with ruthless accuracy.

  'But you haven't. You've simply reminded me of something that I very nearly forgot for a while. No woman can be trusted. You all play games with other people's lives, you go after what you want, and to hell with everything —and everyone —else.'

  'We are not all like that,' Emily protested at once.

  His dark eyes fixed on her with a fierceness that immediately reduced her to nerve-racked silence. Then he turned back to his cousin.

  'Leave my house, Sofia,' he ordered. 'And I would rather that we didn't meet again for quite some time."

  It was the worst punishment that he could have inflicted on her. Sofia flinched as if he had physically hit her. Then she slowly turned round and left the room, her shoulders slumped in acceptance of the awful fact that she had lost Nikolaos forever.

  Emily waited tensely for him to order her to leave as well. She could hardly bear to hear him say the words, but the last few dregs of her pride and courage helped her to stand straight and steady.

  Nikolaos didn't say a single word, though. Instead, he wheeled round and strode from the room without even looking at her.

  When he had gone, she sank down on to the nearest chair, her legs trembling. For a few moments, she wished that she had never spoken to Eleni; certainly wished that she had never agreed to help her. Then Emily remembered the stark misery in the eyes of Nikolaos's mother, and knew that she couldn't have just turned away from her. If Nikolaos could only be persuaded to meet his mother, if he would just look into those dark, stricken eyes and see what her decision to walk out on her family had cost her, then surely he would relent?

  Emily gave a small sigh. But perhaps not —Nikolaos had so much pride. And a pain that he refused to admit; pain that had stretched all through the years of his adult life, right back into the highly impressionable years of early adolescence.

  And now he would never trust her again. He thought that she and his mother had been conspiring together behind his back, and that was something he could never forgive, particularly after that visit to his father, when he had let her see how his mother's desertion had affected his family. Very, very slowly, walking as if she were an old woman, Emily went back into the bedroom and dressed. She didn't shower. She could still smell the musky scent of Nikolaos on her skin and she didn't want to wash it away, not yet. It was a poignant reminder of the intimacy they had shared for such a short time, and would almost certainly never share again. She knew that she should leave the villa, return to Paphos. Instead, though, she found herself following the steep path that led down to the beach. Although she felt as if she had been up for hours it was still, incredibly, early morning, and very few people had ventured down on to the wide sweep of beach that filled the inner curve of the great bay. The pink-tinged sand was already warm beneath her bare feet, however, and the sea sparkled with a crystal-clearness under the bright rays of the sun.

  Then Emily saw the tall, dark figure standing motionless some distance away, staring out to sea.

  She swallowed very hard; then she began to walk steadily forward. Walked towards the dark figure.

  Nikolaos didn't turn and look at her, not even when she was finally standing only a few feet away. She knew that he was very aware of her presence, though. The absolute stillness of his body betrayed him.

  She realised that she was standing in exactly the same way. hardly daring even to breathe. It took an enormous effort to take the last couple of steps that brought her to stand in front of him.

  His face was closed, his dark eyes shuttered so that they revealed absolutely no emotion. It was hard to believe that this was the same man
who had made love to her with such passionate intensity last night.

  'What do you want me to say?' Emily said at last, in a low voice. 'That I'm sorry?'

  'I hardly think that an apology would cover the situation," Nikolaos replied flatly, after a long silence which had made her think that he wasn't going to answer her at all.

  'Oh, you're so stubborn!" she suddenly burst out. 'Why can't you give way just a little, be willing to meet people at least halfway?'

  'By "people", I assume that you're referring to my mother?' he said coldly.

  'Of course I am. Look, I know that I should have told you that I'd met her, but can't you at least understand why I didn't?'

  'No,' came his deliberately detached reply.

  'Because I knew that you'd react like this! And the awful thing is that you're hurting yourself as much as you're hurting her, because I think that you want to meet her. You certainly need to! You're never going to be a complete human being, Nikolaos, until you've faced up to this, confronted all the old painful ghosts of your childhood.'

  His black eyes began to glitter as his facade of self-control started to slip.

  'How dare you tell me what I need to do? You know nothing about it. Nothing!'

  'Of course I do,' Emily retorted with equal vehemence. 'Parts of my own childhood were a nightmare — physical abuse is one of the most frightening things that can happen to you when you're young. But if my father were alive today I wouldn't turn my back on him. I'd want to talk to him, make him understand the harm he did to me, the damage he caused. And I'd want him to talk to me, so that I'd at least know why he did it, what pressures forced him into it. It's only by talking and understanding —and forgiving —that we can finally put it all behind us, and get on with our lives.'