by Anne Mather
But, of course, she was going the wrong way. All that was ahead of her was the ocean, creeping up the beach now, as the tide turned. The steps—and escape—were behind her. As he had known when he let her get away from him, she thought bitterly. Oh, God! Why had she been such a fool?
She glanced round, fully expecting him to have followed her, but he hadn’t. To her surprise, she saw he was standing at the foot of the steps now, his towel draped around his throat, and a pair of cut-off denims covering his hips from waist to knee.
Immediately, she felt even more of a fool. What had she expected? That he would chase her across the beach, and throw her down on to the sand? Had she really thought he might take her here, in full view of any other insomniac like herself? She had evidently been reading too many romantic novels. Such obvious melodrama was not for a man like Alex Thiarchos.
He seemed to be waiting for her, and, hunching her shoulders, she trudged back across the sand. What else could she do? she thought broodingly. She had acted like a schoolgirl, and it was up to her now to try and redress the balance.
‘Ready?’ he asked, when she reached him, and she nodded her head rather sulkily. ‘OK.’ He stepped away from the stairs. ‘You go first. I’ll follow.’
Beth couldn’t have said ‘thanks’ to save her life. Everything: the walk, her uncharacteristic voyeurism, the feelings he had engendered, and her panic-stricken rejection of his lovemaking, seemed so ridiculous somehow. What was she afraid of, for God’s sake? She had had sex with this man, hadn’t she? What more could he do to her? He must think she was totally stupid.
And, perhaps because she wasn’t paying as much attention to where she was going as she should have, her foot slipped. The sand had been damp, she remembered, and the soles of her shoes had lost much of their purchase on the smooth rocks. In consequence, although she tried to save herself, she stumbled backwards into Alex.
She heard his swift intake of breath as he attempted to save both of them, but the pull of gravity was too great. Or perhaps he didn’t try hard enough, she thought later, when her blood had had time to cool, and she could think about it rationally. At any rate, they were only a couple of steps up from the beach, and the distance was not great.
To Beth, it all seemed to happen in slow motion. One moment, she was thinking of nothing but reaching the top of the steps, and putting as much space between herself and Alex as possible, and the next, she was falling through the air. She didn’t worry about herself, or the baby, which was strange considering the freeze-frame motion of her fall. Her most immediate concern was that Alex was beneath her, and her greatest fear was that she might hurt him.
In the event, she did land on top of him, practically knocking all the air out of his lungs. But he was in better shape than most men of his age and profession, and the taut muscles of his midriff cushioned her fall without much damage to himself.
His only response was a rueful grunt, and by the time Beth had gathered herself sufficiently to roll off him his eyes were open wide and bright with amusement. ‘Hey, I wanted you to fall for me, but not like this,’ he teased, his eyes narrowing when he saw her consternation. ‘You’re not hurt, are you? I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my balance.’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ said Beth hurriedly, struggling on to her knees. She lifted her hand, and swept one side of her hair back behind her ear. ‘It was me. I wasn’t thinking what I was doing. Are you all right?’
‘Going to give me the kiss of life?’ he suggested lazily, and then, aware of her very real concern, he shifted his shoulders against the sand. ‘I seem to be still in one piece,’ he assured her. ‘Just a little winded, that’s all. How about you?’
She shrugged, becoming aware that her hands were still resting on his forearm, and that his skin felt faintly damp and cool to the touch. And, as her eyes slid away from the low waistband of his cut-offs, and moved over his upper body, she saw little runnels of water from his still wet hair leaching away across his chest.
Her tongue sought her lips, almost without her being aware of it, as she anticipated what it could be like to taste that salt-laden moisture. She guessed it would taste of him, too, and her breath quickened at the idea of such an intimate act. God, she wondered, why did she have such thoughts about him? He didn’t have to do anything. Her senses just seemed to take over.
‘You didn’t answer me,’ he reminded her now, lifting his hand to cup the nape of her neck. ‘Beth,’ his voice had thickened, ‘don’t look at me like that. I’m trying to play this your way, but you don’t make it very easy.’
‘I—why—I don’t know what you mean,’ she stumbled, but the awareness of his hand under her hair was tying up her tongue. ‘I haven’t hurt myself, if that’s what you mean.’ She swallowed convulsively. ‘Let—let me help you to get up. Goodness knows what anyone would think if they could see us.’
‘No one will see us,’ replied Alex huskily, his thumb moving in a circular movement behind her ear. ‘I told the security guy to get lost while I had my swim. He won’t come back, unless I call him.’ He checked his hip pocket with his free hand. ‘Providing I haven’t smashed the phone.’
Beth moistened her lips. ‘You’ve—got—a phone?’
It was a mindless thing to say in the present circumstances, but her brain couldn’t cope with what was happening. The nearness of his flesh, the scent of the ocean on his skin, the musky fragrance of his body were all acting like triggers to her overwhelming awareness of his near-nakedness. Although she knew she ought to get away from him, and as quickly as possible, her body seemed to have a will of its own. Almost instinctively, she was leaning closer to him, fully aware that her T-shirt was no barrier to the burgeoning fullness of her breasts.
‘Yeah, I’ve got a phone,’ he answered her, and she knew he was only giving her careless question a mocking response. His thumb probed her ear. ‘What to see it?’
Beth’s breathing constricted. ‘I—don’t think so.’
‘Why not?’
‘Alex—’
‘Hey, you remember my name!’
‘Alex—we have to go back.’
‘I’m not stopping you, am I?’
And he wasn’t. Only she didn’t seem capable of acting rationally. With his eyes on her, all she could think about was the spot where her knees were wedged against the warming skin of his midriff. And, when she did try to break the contact and stretch her legs, her toes brushed sensuously along his leg from thigh to knee.
She told herself it wasn’t a deliberate provocation, but when Alex’s hand moved to grip her wrist she knew she had gone too far. ‘What are you trying to do to me?’ he demanded, jerking her towards him, and the hand that had been gripping her neck slid possessively into her hair. His hand guided her lips to his with unerring accuracy, and when his hot breath invaded her mouth she knew she was not going to have the will to resist him. Besides, with the damp heat of his chest beneath her breasts, and the tentative awareness of his maleness just inches from her thigh, she couldn’t really say that she wanted to. With his arms around her, and his hand moving sensually up and down her spine, she found her strongest impulse was to press herself against him, to ease the ache in her breasts, and assuage the need between her legs.
She felt her T-shirt come free of her shorts, and his hand slip beneath the cloth to spread against the yielding curve of her spine, and heard his strangled breath. ‘Ah, God, Beth,’ he groaned, rolling over with her, so that she was on her back now, and he was on top of her. ‘Why in the name of heaven do you fight this? You know you want me, and God knows I want you, too. There are better places for this, I know, but right now it doesn’t seem to matter.’
His mouth sought hers again then, hard and impassioned. His tongue slipped between her teeth, seeking a closer union—and found it in the darting inexperience of her response. She was trembling, but her senses felt as if they were on fire; a burning conflagration that threatened to consume her.
His eyes weren’t lazy now.
As he lifted his head to watch his strong fingers peel the T-shirt from her body, she saw their dusky glitter. With one hand, he traced a path from her shoulder to the swollen tip of her breast, then bent his head to nip the flesh before taking it into his mouth.
A sob rose in Beth’s throat, and her palpitating heart beat wildly against her ribcage. Her senses felt as if they were swimming in a haze of mindless dark liquid, and her movements were slow and lethargic, yet furiously intent.
His hands moved down her body, exploring the curve of her waist, before sliding beneath the elasticated waistband of her shorts to cup her quivering bottom. His fingers touched the moist cleft, which jerked spasmodically beneath his touch, and then probed between her legs to find the wet heat of her arousal.
‘Oh, God, Alex!’ she gasped, unable to stay silent when he was doing such things to her, and the tight smile he gave her revealed his own compulsive involvement. When he rubbed himself against her, he was feeding his own need as well as hers, and the hard thrust of his manhood was hot against her stomach.
‘Why the hell did you let me put these things on?’ he demanded huskily, fighting feverishly to free himself from the close-fitting denim. The zip jammed, and he swore when he caught his finger on the metal teeth. But then they were off, and so were her shorts, and the muscled weight of his body pressed possessively against hers.
‘Oh, that’s good,’ he groaned, content just for a moment to lie against her, and with an instinct she hardly knew she possessed Beth eased her hand between them to touch him. The hot, pulsating length of him was amazingly soft and velvety, and her thumb probed the moist tip in innocent exploration.
His intake of breath was convulsive, and the hand that moved to close over hers was shaky. ‘God, Beth,’ he said, through parched lips, ‘don’t do that!’
Beth frowned. ‘I’m sorry—’
‘Don’t be,’ he broke in weakly, and his mouth now was rueful and faintly mocking. ‘It isn’t that I don’t like it. Just—too much, hmm? Right now, I don’t have a lot of control.’
Beth’s tongue touched her upper lip. ‘I thought—’
‘Yes. I can guess what you thought,’ he agreed, evenly. He levered himself up to look down at her. ‘You have no idea what you do to me, do you? I can’t keep my hands off you.’
‘No?’
It was just a whisper, and he repeated it as he bent to cover her mouth with his. Then, with infinite control, he parted her legs and eased himself into her, and the sigh he uttered was echoed in her soul.
It was so good to feel him there; in her; a part of her; healing that empty space inside her, which only he could fill. Dear God, how could she even pretend she didn’t want him, when every nerve in her body was crying out for the release only he could give her?
His hands were moulding her, caressing her, and everywhere his hands touched his mouth followed. And slowly, but insistently, he began to move. His withdrawal from her body was the most delicate kind of torture, but just when her nails were digging into his shoulders, begging him not to leave her, he buried himself even deeper inside her. He spread her quivering muscles with his fullness, stretching her to the limits of her endurance, and then did it all over again.
She was hardly aware of him quickening his movements. Her whole being was focused on that pleasure-pain flowering inside her, that aching sweetness, which threatened her sanity and promised so much. And when he lifted himself on his elbows so that he could watch the place where his maleness joined him to her she lost what little control she had. She clutched his neck with nerveless fingers, bringing his eyes back to hers, and he let her draw him down to her, and wind her legs about him.
After that, there was no time to think of anything but him. Hunger and fever and need took hold of her, and the eager rocking motion of their bodies brought them both to that pinnacle of ecstasy Beth had been so sure she must have exaggerated. But she hadn’t. As the spiralling thermals of passion took her higher and higher, she cried aloud with the wonder of it all. And Alex joined her as he reached his own climax, shuddering in her arms long after the spurting heat of his release had spilled inside her…
CHAPTER NINE
BETH awakened the next morning feeling dry-mouthed and slightly headachy. She felt as if she had slept too soundly and too long, but, looking at the clock on the bedside table, she knew that couldn’t be the reason. It was barely half-past seven, and she hadn’t tumbled into bed until after two o’clock.
And she knew why, knew it instantly, the moment her eyes opened on that sunlit Greek bedroom. She didn’t need to see the brilliance of the sun, slanting through the blinds, and glinting on the jewelled icon that hung on the wall at the foot of her bed. She didn’t need to hear the cicadas, or smell the fragrance of the thyme that grew wild on the cliffs, above the cove. She knew it with her body, knew it instinctively, and viscerally; in the tenderness of her breasts; in the slight ache that was present in her thighs; and in the faint soreness that throbbed between her legs. Knew it by the lingering sense of well-being—that vanished as soon as she sat up and felt the nausea rising in her throat.
She only just made it to the bathroom basin, and by the time she lifted her head all that was left of those early morning feelings was the dry mouth and the headache. She felt and looked like death, and she took a cold facecloth and pressed it against her moist forehead.
The coolness was a blessing, and as the nausea faded she actually found she was hungry. For a moment, she had had the awful suspicion that last night’s excesses had been too much for a woman in her condition. It was weeks since she had actually vomited in the mornings, though she did still get occasional bouts of sickness during the day.
All the same, it was lucky she hadn’t allowed Alex to accompany her back to her room. He had wanted to. And goodness knew, last night she had wanted him to as well. The idea of making love in a bed had been very appealing after making love on the sand. All right, Alex had dragged his towel beneath them, but her hair had got all gritty just the same. Afterwards, she had let him carry her into the water, and they had swum together, and made love together in the ocean. But she had drawn the line at their sleeping together.
‘What would Linda think if she found out?’ she had protested, and, although Alex had maintained he didn’t give a damn what his daughter-in-law thought about their behaviour, he had eventually given in and let her have her way.
For which she would be eternally grateful, Beth thought this morning, giving thanks for whatever shred of sanity had compelled her to deny him. Apart from anything else, he couldn’t be allowed to see her in broad daylight. She had slept naked, climbing nervelessly into bed and falling asleep almost immediately, so that now the thickening shape of her waistline was clearly visible. The rest of her body was so slim, she thought, turning sideways to view herself in the long mirrors. The curving swell of her stomach was definitely noticeable. Even her breasts looked fuller and heavier, the faint blue veins showing more prominently, the nipples a darker brown.
If she had had any doubts about her condition, and of course she hadn’t, her appearance alone would have convinced her. And anyone else, she admitted ruefully. Her body was changing, not just inside, but out, and pretty soon she wouldn’t be able to hide it, however ingeniously she might try.
She heard the knock on her bedroom door as she was brushing her teeth and panic gripped her. Dear God, what if it was Alex? What if he thought last night had given him the right to invade her space whenever he chose? She needed time to think before she saw him again. Time to assimilate what she was going to do, what she could do, without threatening the independence she had worked so hard to achieve.
‘Beth! Beth, where are you?’
Linda’s voice was both a jolt and a reprieve. At least it wasn’t Alex, Beth consoled herself, snatching a velvety soft bath-sheet from the rack, and wrapping it about her. With luck, Linda wouldn’t expect her to disrobe in front of her this morning. Without even the satin folds of the teddy to protect he
r, she felt exposed and vulnerable.
‘I’m here,’ she called now, coming to the door of the bathroom. She forced a smile. ‘Good morning. You’re up early.’
‘I know.’ Linda was hovering in the doorway to the corridor, and seemed to have forgotten her irritability of the night before. ‘I couldn’t sleep, so I went exploring. Do you know, there’s a swimming pool? Mr Thiarchos was there. Tony’s dad, that is. He was swimming, and when he saw me he invited me to join him. They have all sorts of swimwear in the cabanas there.’ She grimaced. ‘But no hairdriers, unfortunately. That’s why my hair’s still damp.’
‘I see.’ Beth felt an unwelcome spurt of envy. But she wasn’t jealous, she assured herself. It was the idea of Linda sharing Alex’s confidence that filled her with unease. ‘He must be an early riser, too.’
‘Mmm.’ Linda nodded, pushing her hands into the hip pockets of her jeans, and arching her spine. ‘Did—er—did you sleep well?’
‘Oh—reasonably.’ Beth lifted the hem of the towel and pretended to be wiping beads of moisture from her cheeks. She hoped Linda would think the abrasion was responsible for the unwilling colour that had stained her face at the girl’s words, but it didn’t prevent the rush of impatience she had felt at herself. Blushing! she chided. At her age! What on earth was happening to her?
‘Are you sure?’ Linda asked now, staring at her rather intently. ‘I’ve just noticed you do look rather feverish. Are you running a temperature?’
‘Of course not.’ Beth managed a light laugh. ‘I’ve just got up, that’s all. I haven’t even had a wash yet.’
‘Oh.’ Linda seemed to accept her explanation. ‘Well, I’m glad, because Mr Thiarchos has suggested taking us out this morning. He says he wants to show us a little of the area. Temples; villages; vineyards. You know the sort of thing.’
