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And took her in his arms.
It was done in a moment. She could not stop him without tugging free, making a scene. And she couldn’t—not now, at Tina’s wedding. But her body had gone rigid instantly, stiffening like steel. It annoyed him, she could tell, for his eyes had darkened, his mouth had tightened. She didn’t care, though. Why should she? And anyway, she must not look at him—must not let her eyes anywhere near his face, which was so close, must not meet his gaze, above all must not be conscious in any way whatsoever of the touch of his hand at her waist, his clasp of her hand. She mustn’t—just mustn’t.
But it was useless. Every cell in her body screamed to her of his closeness, the warmth of his body, the firm pressure of the hand at her waist, guiding her steps, the warm touch of the hand holding hers as they turned—she stiffly, he with the same fluid grace that she had last seen when he’d joined his countrymen dancing in the taverna.
The night he’d seduced her…
Weakness rushed through her, and if her limbs hadn’t been as stiff as steel she would have collapsed, falling forward against him, requiring his strength to effortlessly support her.
The music lilted through her brain, her blood, and the rhythm turned them so that imperceptibly, treacherously, she felt it loosen her limbs, dissolving their stiff rigidity—seducing her all on its own.
He felt it—his hand tightened at her waist, ineluctably drawing her against him. She tried to counter by bringing the hand she was holding inwards, as if to ward him off, but it only meant that his clasp enfolded her hand the more, and worse—worse—caught their hands between her breast and his chest. Desperately she found her other hand clutching at his shoulder, at the smooth, rich material of his tuxedo jacket.
Her heart had started to slug. She could not stop it.
Nor could she stop her head tilting, her eyes going to his.
And drowning.
And it was bliss—magical, beautiful, wonderful!—to be held in his arms and wafted around the floor, the soft folds of her chiffon rustling and lifting and floating, the lush, seductive strains of the music cradling her even as his arms cradled her.
She couldn’t resist it. Couldn’t! Had no strength, no will. None. So she gave herself to it.
How long the dance lasted she could not tell, because she had stepped out of time. And not just out of time—out of reality. The reality of what had happened between her and Nikos—the sordid reality of what he thought of her—the angry, bitter reality of her loathing of him—seemed to have vanished. While the music lasted reality was banished. Only the magic remained—the magic of being in his arms, his embrace, of gazing up at him, lips parted, as his eyes fixed on hers in that wonderful, magical, drowning gaze that absorbed everything that existed.
Then, out of nowhere, the music stopped—and so did the magic. Blinking, she realised she had stopped moving, become aware of the world again, of the other people there and little Ari, tugging at her dress.
Dazed, unfocussed, she looked down. Ari’s face was alight with excitement.
‘The fireworks are starting!’ He tugged her towards the stone balustrade looking out over the sea in the direction of Maxos.
There was a sudden ‘whoosh’ and a collective gasp—including a squeal from Ari—and the fireworks started. It was a spectacular display, probably visible from Maxos, and Ann appreciated that it was a generous gesture by the Theakis family to the townsfolk, as well as to Tina and Sam. It went on for ages, dazzling the night sky, and Ann was grateful. It gave her time to try and calm down—not that it ever stopped her being punishingly aware of Nikos, so close to her. But since he was holding Ari, who was squealing in excited delight throughout, at least it meant he couldn’t try and touch her.
But would he want to, anyway? Since she had refused his diamonds he had not made the slightest attempt to come near her. He was obviously perfectly happy to go off with the likes of Elena Constantis—and who knew how many other women?
So why had he danced with her?
There had been no reason for him to take her in his arms and waltz with her, as if…as if… She felt her heart squeeze suddenly, painfully. As if it were the most romantic thing in the world— the most magical, the most wonderful. The pain clutched her again. As if he had never offered her a diamond necklace for sex and told her she was a hypocrite not to take it…
That was what she must remember! Nothing else! Not those few stupid, foolish minutes in his arms as the lilting music had danced in her veins and the magic had woven its velvet dreams into her head.
With a stupendous crescendo the fireworks ended. Ann turned away from the balcony and saw that Ari was almost asleep on Nikos’s chest.
‘Bedtime, poppet,’ she said, and moved reluctantly to take him from Nikos.
‘I’ll carry him,’ came the reply, and he started to thread his way towards the French windows leading inside. ‘He’s already asleep.’
Ann followed him inside. She’d half thought to stay out with the party, simply to keep away from Nikos, but Ari had reached out a hand for her.
‘Auntie Annie put me to bed,’ he said drowsily, but with a plaintive note. So she followed Nikos, her chiffon skirts sussurrating.
It was so quiet in the nursery quarters—and quite deserted. She found herself tensing, realising how alone she was here with Nikos.
It took only a very little time to see Ari into bed. He was already asleep as Nikos laid him carefully down, then stepped away to let Ann gently ease him into his pyjamas, lightly sponging his face and hands, then tucking him in with his teddy. For a moment, forgetting Nikos’ presence, she soothed Ari’s hair, feeling the soft silkiness beneath her fingers. His lashes were so long, she thought—almost as long as his uncle’s…
She bent to drop a silent kiss on Ari’s forehead, then straightened. Nikos was standing at the foot of Ari’s bed, watching her. For a moment—a strange, breathless moment—she met his eyes. The light was dim, with only Ari’s night- light on. She could not read the expression in his face, or in his eyes, knew only that she could not look away.
It was not like any look they had exchanged before. This was—different. She didn’t know why, could only feel the difference. Feel the vibration that went through her—not just through her body, but somewhere deeper.
