by Penny Jordan
‘I want you,’ she responded feverishly to him. ‘I want you, Andreas. I...’ She shuddered, unable to say any more because Andreas was kissing her, sealing her mouth with a kiss that was a hot, passionate brand of possession. As he wrapped his arms around her Saskia clung to him shyly, stroking the side of his face.
‘Look at me,’ he demanded.
Hesitatingly she did so, the melting, soft, languorous longing of her gaze entrapped by the hot, fierce glitter of his.
Very slowly and tenderly he began to caress her. Saskia felt as though her whole body was going to dissolve with her longing for him, her need of him.
She reached out to touch his bare shoulder, his arm, and made a helpless little sound of taut female need against his throat as she pressed her lips to it.
Beneath his hands her body softened and responded magically, welcomingly, as though his touch was a special key. But he was the key to what she was feeling, Saskia acknowledged hazily, lost fathoms—oceans—deep in her love for him.
‘There isn’t going to be much time...I want you too much,’ he told her almost bluntly, softening the words with another hotly passionate kiss that made her hips lift achingly against him whilst her whole body writhed in longing for him.
‘Next time we can take things more slowly,’ Andreas gasped harshly against her breast, his voice and actions revealing his increasing need.
Next time... Saskia felt as though she might die from happiness. ‘Next time’ meant that he shared her feelings, that he felt the same way as she did.
It seemed to Saskia almost as though the air between them throbbed with the intensity of their shared passion, with the way their bodies synchronised together with a perfection surely only given to true lovers.
Each sigh, each gasp, each heartbeat served only to bind her closer to him, emotionally as well as physically, until she was captive to him and her desire, her love, was laid as bare to him as her quivering body.
When he finally whispered to her, ‘Now, Saskia... Oh, God, now!’ she knew her body had given him its most eager assent before her lips could even begin to frame the words she wanted to say. Automatically she was already wrapping the slim length of her legs around his waist, raising up to meet him, to feel him. She heard him cry out as he entered her, a sound of both torment and triumph, and then he was filling her with his own unique intimate, heavy warmth, and her body, pausing only to tense briefly in sweetly virginal shock, welcomed each ever deepening thrust of him within her.
Andreas felt her body’s unexpected resistance, his brain and his emotions even registered their shock at what it meant, but his body refused to react to that knowledge. It loved the hot snug fit of her around him, holding and caressing him, urging him to forget what he had just experienced and to satisfy the age-old demand her femaleness was making on his maleness. Deeper, harder, stronger, until you reach the deepest heart of me, each delicately soft contraction of her flesh around his urged him. Deeper, stronger, surer, until you are there. Yes, there...there...
Andreas felt as though his heart and lungs might burst as he drove them both to the place where they could finally fly free.
Saskia cried out in softly sweet awe and relish as she experienced for herself what true completion was...what it truly meant to be a woman, completely fulfilled, elevated to a place, a state...an emotion so piercingly intense that it filled her eyes with hot, happy exhausted tears.
Someone was trembling... Was it her...or was it both of them? She had heard Andreas groan in those final unbelievable seconds before he had wrapped his arms securely around her and then sent them both hurtling into infinity, calling out her name in a way that had made her tingle with raw emotion.
As he fought to regain control of his breathing, and himself, Andreas looked down at Saskia.
She was crying, huge silent tears. Of pain? Because of him...because he had...?
Even now his thoughts skidded away from the reality, the truth that his brain was trying to impose on him. She couldn’t have been a virgin... It was impossible.
But his self-anger and guilt told him that it wasn’t, and she had been. Unforgivably, he had hurt her and made her cry, selfishly taking his pleasure from her at the price of her innocence, so unable to control what he felt for her that he had not been able to stop when he knew that he should have done.
Sickened by his own behaviour, he pulled away from her.
‘Andreas...’ Saskia reached out towards him uncertainly. Why was he withdrawing from her? Why wasn’t he holding her, caressing her...loving and reassuring her?
‘What is it...what is wrong?’ she begged him.
‘Do you really need to ask?’ Andreas responded tersely. ‘Why didn’t you tell me...stop me...?’
The anger in his voice was driving away the sweet mist of her joy and replacing it with anxiety and despair. It was obvious to her now that what had been so wonderful, so perfect, so unique for her had been nowhere near the same kind of experience for Andreas.
Andreas was furious with himself for not somehow having had the insight to know. She had been a virgin, and he, damn him, had practically forced himself on her... He was disgusted with himself, his pride scorched not just by his actions but his complete misreading of her.
‘You should have stopped me,’ he repeated as he got off the bed and went into the bathroom, returning with a towel wrapped around his naked body and his robe, which he handed to Saskia, and sitting down on the bed, turning away from her as she tried to put it on.
What would he say if she were to tell him that the last thing she had wanted was for him to stop? Saskia wondered wretchedly. Her hands were shaking so much she could hardly pull the robe on, never mind fasten it, and when Andreas turned to look at her he gave an impatient, irritated sigh and pushed her hands out of the way, pulling it on properly for her.
‘You aren’t safe to be let out alone. You realise that, don’t you?’ he exploded savagely. ‘Even if I hadn’t, Aristotle—’
‘Aristotle!’ Saskia picked his name up with loathing in her voice and in her eyes. She shuddered, and told him fiercely, ‘No—never... He’s loathsome and...’
‘But you went for a walk with him...’
‘No, I didn’t,’ Saskia protested.
‘Athena said you’d gone for a walk,’ Andreas insisted, but Saskia wouldn’t let him finish.
‘Yes, I did...on my own. There were things I wanted...’ She stopped, lowering her head and looking away from him. Then she told him in a tear-filled voice, ‘I want to go home, Andreas. I can’t...’
He knew what she was saying; of course he did, Andreas acknowledged—and why! Of course she wanted to get away from him after what he had done...the way he had...
‘You should have told me.’ He stopped her sharply. ‘If I’d known that you were a virgin...’
He might be concerned about taking her virginity but he obviously had no compunction at all about breaking her heart, Saskia decided angrily. For her the loss of her emotional virginity was something that hurt far more—and would continue to hurt.
How could she have been stupid enough to think he felt the same way about her as she did about him? She must have been crazy...had been crazy, she recognised grimly. Crazy with love for him!
‘I thought...’ she heard him saying, but now it was her turn not to allow him to finish.
‘I know what you thought,’ she cut in with sharp asperity. ‘You’ve already made it very plain what you thought of me, Andreas. You thought I was some cheap, silly woman throwing herself at you because of your money. And when I tried to explain you wouldn’t let me. You wanted to believe the worst of me. I suppose that Greek male pride of yours wouldn’t allow you to acknowledge that you might just possibly be wrong...’
Andreas looked at her. His jealousy had led to this...had led to his unforgivably appalling treatment of her. He
ached to be able to take her in his arms, to kiss away the traces of tears still on her face, to hold her and whisper to her how much he loved her, how much he wanted to protect her and care for her...how much he wished he could wipe away the wrong he had done her, the pain he had caused her... He ached too, if he was honest, to lie her down on the bed beside him, to remove the robe she was wearing and to kiss every silky inch of her adorable body, to tell her how he felt about her, to show her too. But of course he could do no such thing...not now...
To keep his mind off what he was feeling...off the way he wanted her, he told her gruffly, ‘Explain to me now.’
For a moment Saskia was tempted to refuse, but what was the point? She would tell him, and then she would tell him that she intended to leave—but she certainly wouldn’t tell him why.
Just for an irrational silly female heartbeat of time she ached for him to reach for her, to stop hurting her with words she did not want to hear and to caress and kiss her until her poor deluded heart believed once again that he loved her as she did him.
But thankfully she had enough instinct for self-preservation left to stop herself from telling him so. Instead she began to explain about Megan and Mark and Lorraine.
‘She made you do what?’ Andreas demanded angrily.
She was hesitantly explaining about Lorraine, and her insistence that Saskia make herself look more sexy, when, after a brief rap on the door, Pia burst in and told them, ‘Grandfather has arrived. He wants to see both of you.’
‘I’d better get dressed,’ Saskia mumbled self-consciously.
Pia seemed oblivious to her embarrassment, adding urgently, ‘Oh, and Andreas, there’s something I want to talk to you about...before you see Grandfather.’
‘If you’re going to ask for an advance on your allowance,’ Saskia heard Andreas saying hardily to Pia as he walked with her to the door, allowing Saskia to make her own escape to the bathroom, ‘you haven’t picked a very good time.’
CHAPTER TEN
SASKIA GLARED reprovingly at the reflection glowing back at her from the bedroom mirror. Her own reflection. The reflection of a woman whose body had enjoyed in full measure every nuance of sensual satisfaction and was proud to proclaim that fact to the world.
That was not how she wanted to look when she confronted Andreas’s grandfather—the man who was ultimately responsible for her being here...the man who did not think she was good enough for his grandson...the man who preferred to see him marry Athena. Neither did she want Andreas to see her like this.
Why on earth couldn’t her idiotic body see beyond the delicious fulfilment it was currently basking in and instead think ahead to the loneliness and pain her emotions already knew were lying in store?
Andreas had returned to their room very briefly after Pia’s interruption, showering and dressing quickly and then informing her that, although his grandfather was insisting that he wanted to meet her as soon as possible, there were certain matters he needed to discuss with him in private first.
‘It won’t take very long,’ he had told her grimly, before striding out of the room without giving her a chance to tell him that right now, for her own sanity and safety, she wanted to get as far away from him as fast as she could.
Soon, now, he would be coming back for her, to take her and introduce her formally to his grandfather.
Saskia pulled an angry face at her still glowing reflection. She looked, she admitted angrily, the perfect picture of a woman in love. Even her eyes had a new sparkle, a certain glint that said she was hugging to herself a wonderful, special secret.
She had tried over and over again to tell her love-crazed body just what the real situation was, but it simply refused to listen. And so now... She gave a nervous start as she heard the bedroom door opening...
Andreas took a deep breath before reaching out for the bedroom door handle and grasping it firmly.
Pia had been so incensed, so protective and angry on Saskia’s behalf, that it had taken her several minutes to become calm enough to spill out, in a way that made sense, the conversation she had overheard between Athena and Saskia.
‘Athena actually tried to bribe Saskia to leave you. She promised her a million pounds if she did. Of course Saskia refused, but I don’t see why Athena should be allowed to get away with such insulting and...and offensive behaviour. Grandfather should be told what she’s really like—and if you aren’t prepared to tell him...’ she had threatened darkly.
‘Andreas?’ she had demanded when he made no response, obviously puzzled at his lack of reaction, but Andreas had still been trying to come to terms with the ‘insulting’ and ‘offensive’ behaviour he had already inflicted on Saskia. Now, to learn what Athena had done and how nobly Saskia had behaved made him feel... How could he have been so wrong about her, so judgemental and...and biased?
A tiny inner voice told him that he already knew the answer. Right from the first second he had set eyes on her there had been something—a sharp warning thrill of sensation and, even more dangerously, of emotion—which he had instantly tried to suppress. His infernal pride had resented the fact that he could fall in love with a woman who was so obvious, and because he had listened to his pride, and not his heart, he had witlessly destroyed something that could have been the most wonderful, the most precious part of his life. Unless... Unless Saskia could be persuaded to give him a second chance...
But, whether or not she would allow him the chance to prove his love for her, there was something that had to be done, a reparation that had to be made. He was Greek enough to think that Saskia should bear his name well before there was any chance of the world knowing that she might bear his child. She had given him her innocence and in exchange he would give her his protection, whether or not she wanted it.
He had told his grandfather exactly what he planned to do, adding truthfully that Saskia was far more important to him than wealth and position and even the love and respect of his grandfather himself.
He had even been tempted to refuse to allow his grandfather to meet her, rather than subject Saskia to any possible hurt or upset, but there was no way he wanted his grandfather to think that he was hiding Saskia from him because he feared she would not be good enough for him. Not good enough! She was too good, too wonderful...too precious...
His final act before heading back to the bedroom had been to tell Athena to leave the island immediately.
‘Don’t bother to try and persuade my grandfather to allow you to stay. He won’t,’ he had warned her truthfully.
Now he hesitated before going into the bedroom. He could see Saskia standing waiting for him, and his heart rocked on a huge surge of longing and love for her.
She looked as radiant as a bride, her eyes sparkling, her mouth curved in a smile that was a cross between pure joy and a certain secret, newly discovered womanliness. She looked...
She looked like a woman who had just left the arms and the bed of the man she loved.
But the moment she saw him her expression changed; her eyes became shadowed, her body tense and wary.
Helplessly Andreas closed his eyes, swamped by a wave of love and guilt. He longed more than anything right now to close the door on the rest of the world, to take her in his arms and hold her there for ever whilst he begged for her forgiveness and for the opportunity to spend the rest of his life showing her how much he loved her.
But he had his responsibilities, and primarily, right now, he had to fulfil the promise he had just made to his grandfather that he would introduce Saskia to him.
For his grandfather’s sake he trusted that the older man would remember the promise he had made that he would treat Saskia gently.
As Andreas crossed the room and took hold of her hand Saskia shrank back from him, terrified of betraying her feelings, knowing that she was trembling from head to foot simply because of the wa
rmth of his hand clasping hers.
She knew that he was bound to make some irritated, impatient comment about the role she was supposed to be playing, but instead he simply released her hand and told her in a low voice, ‘I’m sorry to have put you through this my...Saskia...’
‘It’s what you brought me here for,’ Saskia reminded him brutally, not daring to look at him. Surely she must be imagining that raw note of remorse in his voice.
As they left the room the pretty little maid who looked after it came in, and Andreas paused to say something to her in Greek before following Saskia into the corridor.
It was only natural in the circumstances, Saskia knew, that Andreas should take hold of her hand again and close the distance between them, so that when they walked into the cool, simply furnished room that gave out onto the main patio area they did so with every outward appearance of a couple deeply in love. But what was surely less natural, and almost certainly unwise, was the sense of warmth and security that she got from being so close to him.
To try and distract herself from the effect Andreas’s proximity was having on her, Saskia looked to where his sister and mother were standing talking to an elderly white-haired man Saskia knew must be Andreas’s grandfather.
As they walked towards him he started to turn round, and Saskia could hear Andreas saying formally, ‘Grandfather, I’d like to introduce Saskia to you.’
But Saskia had stopped listening, her attention focused instead on the familiar features of the man now facing her. He was the same man she had seen in the street in Athens, the man who had seemed so unwell and whom she had been so concerned about. He didn’t look ill now though. He was smiling broadly at them both, coming forward to clasp Saskia’s free hand in both of his in a grip heart-rockingly similar to that of his grandson.
‘There is no need to introduce her to me, ’Reas.’ He laughed. ‘Your beautiful fiancée and I have already met.’
Saskia could see how much he was enjoying the shocking effect of his announcement on his family. He was obviously a man who liked to feel he was in control of things...people...who liked to challenge and surprise them. But where that trait in Andreas had angered her, in his grandfather she found it almost endearing.
