There was a pause.
Eleni blinked. “But—my dear, the moon isn’t even?—”
“She adores the sea at night,” Alexandros added smoothly, already reaching for Dani’s hand.
Stuart coughed behind his wineglass. “Pretty sure moonrise isn’t for another hour, but hey, who am I to argue with romance?”
Dani couldn’t help it—she laughed. A breathless, giddy giggle that turned into a squeak when she was abruptly swept off her feet.
Literally.
Alexandros’s arms slid under her, lifting her like she weighed nothing. Her hands flew to his shoulders for balance as he strode through the dining room, jaw tight, eyes smoldering.
Shocked murmurs and muffled laughs followed them.
He didn’t stop.
Through the hall, towards the stairs, and away from the terrace. He climbed them two at a time. Her breath caught again—this time from the raw tension vibrating through his entire frame.
A muscle in his jaw ticked.
Her fingers followed, brushing his cheek. A shiver of wanton desire coursed through her.
He stopped.
Their eyes locked. Her eyes were filled with anticipation and need. His filled with a smoldering sensuality that turned her body to mush.
“You’d better understand,” he said, his voice low, nearly ragged, “what is about to happen.”
Her heart was thundering now, her body already trembling with the tension of yes, finally, yes.
She leaned forward, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I do.”
And that was all it took.
He lowered her to her feet in the upper corridor, pushing her up against the wall. His mouth captured hers in a kiss that stole every coherent thought from her brain. There was nothing gentle about it—only heat, hunger, and the release of everything they had bottled up for far too long.
Her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. His tongue swept inside, tangling with hers. He released her to kiss along her cheek and neck before he returned to drink deeper. His body pressed against her. His arousal strained against the thin fabric of his trousers.
His hand cupped the back of her neck, the other sliding between her thighs. She parted for him, gasping when his hand slid between the fabric of her skirt and panties and her skin. His fingers slid through the tight curls protecting her womanhood. She moaned when he caressed her swollen nub.
“Alexandros,” she whimpered, pressing her face against his neck and clutching his shoulder.
“When you’re near me, nothing else matters, Dani. Only you could make me lose control so much that I could take you here, in the hallway where anyone can come upon us. That tells you how much you affect me,” he growled.
Her legs gave out when he stepped back. He swept her back into his arms. His face was a mask of desire. His eyes blazed with an emotion that bordered pain.
A second later, the door slammed shut behind them. She didn’t recognize this room, but knew it must be his. He carried her to his bed and laid her down.
“Tell me to stop,” he rasped.
“Not a chance,” she whispered, tilting her head back and lifting her hands to the front of his shirt.
His lips found her neck, her collarbone, his hands sliding up her thighs, gripping, possessive and reverent all at once.
The sound of material ripping was muted by their heavy breathing. Dani frantically pulled his shirt loose from his waistband, her fingers fumbling at buttons until she could feel skin—warm and tight over muscle. He groaned when her nails scraped lightly down his stomach.
Her blouse was a lost cause. He cursed as her bra defied him. She giggled and rose far enough to lock her lips to his. She kissed him wildly, reaching back to pop the hooks free. In seconds, his hands were cupping her full breasts.
