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He watched her watching him…
With a little cry she turned away, as if she had been caught out, guilty, and he gave a laugh, catching her in his arms even as she turned.
‘No shyness! This is for us both, my most beautiful Ann…’
He swept her up, taking her across to the bed, pulling back the coverings and lowering her down on to the sheets where she lay, hair spilling like a silvered flag, her pale body exquisitely beautiful to him. Then he stripped off the rest of his clothes and came down beside her.
He feasted on her. Every morsel of her body was his delight, his pleasure, his to enjoy. As was his body for her. Caressing and arousing, he felt the blood pulse strongly in his veins, and desire—strong and untrammelled—coursed powerfully through him. She was everything he wanted—everything! The bounty of her breasts, the glory of her hair, the sweetness of her mouth, the silk of her skin, and—most glorious of all—the richness of her dewing body, opening to his, drawing him in. She clung to him, hands meshed with his so tightly their palms were sealed, her spine arching, lips parted, eyes glazed as she gazed up into his eyes that were devouring hers. And all the time he thrust within her, taking her with him, onwards, onwards to that place that awaited them both.
It took them in, turning the world to searing glory in a heat so fierce he cried out—a low, guttural cry that found an echo, higher, finer, which melded into the fire in which they writhed together.
And then the coming down—the slow, heavy exhaustion of the body that took him back from the furnace and made him fold her sated body to his, panting, breathless, still quivering, clinging to him as if he were the only still point after the passion that had consumed them both.
She lay in the circle of his arms, exhausted, weak, and gradually he could feel his hectic pulse slow. His own breathing started to ease, and his eyelids felt heavy, so very heavy, so that all he could do was pull the covers over them, hold her stilling body more tightly to him yet, and give himself up into the oblivion that reached for him. His last awareness was of how good, how very, very good it felt to have her body so close, so closely entwined with his.
The place it should be.
The place it would be.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ARI WAS CHATTERING, telling them all about what he had seen from the rooftop of Notre Dame, and Ann and Nikos were smiling indulgently at him. But beneath the table in the restaurant where they were having lunch, they were holding hands. Such a simple gesture, thought Ann, and yet it felt so magical.
But then the whole world had turned to magic.
She’d been mad, she knew, to succumb as she had last night. But how could she have resisted? It was impossible to resist Nikos Theakis. Impossible! Even while he had made no secret of his contempt for her it had been all but impossible to resist him—but now… Her insides squeezed flutteringly. Now that he was being so…so nice to her, the very thought of trying to resist him was…impossible.
Yet even as she’d given herself to him—unresisting, quickening with a desire that had swept her into his arms, his bed—she’d known not just that she was mad, but that she was lighting a fire that would be far, far harder to douse this time. Before, she had found the strength to resist him in his vileness to her.
But now, how many days—how many nights—did they have left? Nikos had said nothing of how long he wanted to stay in Paris, but Tina would be back from honeymoon soon, and surely then he’d be returning to Greece with Ari?
Perhaps only a few days—only one or two—but I will take them—take them and not think about anything else—anything else at all!
It was, she knew, the only policy that made sense in the middle of this madness she was permitting. But what else could she do? It was too late now for sanity to prevail. Last night had proved that—overwhelmingly, consumingly—with memories so vivid, so wonderful, she dared not let them into her head now, lest they show blatantly in her eyes, her expression. And then Nikos would know, and then desire would leap between them, as it had done again and again through out the long, magical night they had spent together, until dawn had crept in over the rooftops of Paris.
But if the night had been for Nikos, then the day must only be for Ari—the reason they were here.
After lunch they went to the Luxembourg Gardens on the Left Bank, where Ari enjoyed himself at a children’s playground and sandpit until it was time for an ice-cream while he watched the marionette theatre, hardly needing his uncle’s translation of the traditional fairy tale depicted. After that came another ride on his beloved Metro, to a destination that left Ari speechless with glee—the descent into the sewers of Paris.
‘I will explain everything to you while we are here, but it is not to be a subject for discussion over meals, Ari!’ said his uncle sternly.
Nevertheless, the subject recurred, as Ann had known it would, over Ari’s bathtime. He watched with a knowing eye as the water drained away, and explained its destination to her.
‘Very good, Ari,’ said Nikos from the doorway. ‘And now I shall read your bedtime story while Auntie Annie makes herself even more beautiful than she always is.’
His eyes went to her, and their message was clear.
That evening they dined in the suite, with Ari fast asleep in Ann’s room. They did not linger over their meal, superb as it was, washed down by vintage champagne. Instead, Nikos suffered her to swiftly check on Ari, before taking her to bed. And there in his arms she found a bliss that was unimaginable, sweeter, more wonderful, more thrilling than even the night before.
Afterwards, lying in the cradle of his arms, she wondered anew at the insanity of what she was committing, but she knew it was too late, and she was too helpless to resist. She shut her eyes to everything but the moment, content only to feel Nikos’ strong arms enfolding her, to feel the beat of his heart beneath her cheek, the scent and taste of his body in her mouth as sleep washed over her.
But that sleep was rudely disturbed when more than the morning’s sunlight pierced her slumber. Ari, waking to
every expectation of another fun-filled day, had come to find her.
He bounced vigorously on the bed. ‘Time to get up! Time to get up!’ he enthused, landing with a thump.
As Ann stirred, and Nikos too, she saw Ari regarding them with keen interest.
