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‘Need a massage?’ Nikos gave a laugh and crossed towards her. He rested his hand on her neck and kneaded it gently with his fingertips.
It was a casual gesture, lasting only a few moments, but Diana froze. There was something about the weight of his large hand on her nape...something about the soft pressing of his fingers into her skin, the brush of his hand against the loosened tendrils of her hair caught into its habitual chignon...something that made her feel suddenly weak. Breathless.
‘Better?’ he murmured, and she realised that somehow he seemed to have stepped close to her, so that he stood just behind her. Close—so close.
Despite her frozen muscles, she seemed to be feeling a wash of intense relaxation easing through her—an impulse to roll her head forward and let free the low moan in her throat as she succumbed to the seductive touch of his fingers working at her neck.
Seductive?
With a scrambling of her senses she pulled herself together, made herself shake her head. Seductive? Was she mad to think such a thing?
She took a step away, freeing herself, and turned towards him with a bright smile. ‘Lovely,’ she said lightly. ‘Thank you.’
She headed towards her bedroom. She needed a bit of sanctuary right now.
‘I’m going to freshen up, then maybe order some fruit juice. The terrace looks very appealing at this time of day.’
Chattering brightly, she didn’t look at him, just got inside her bedroom. She felt breathless. Determinedly, she inhaled. This had to stop. All this nonsense with her making such a fuss just because Nikos touched her. He hadn’t meant anything by it—not a thing. And especially nothing seductive, for heaven’s sake.
Yet a few minutes later, as she stood under the shower, warm water plunging like rainfall
over her body, sluicing over her shoulders, her breasts, down over her flanks and legs, she felt a kind of restlessness inside her. An awareness of her own flesh and blood that was as rare as it was disturbing. As she smoothed the rich, foaming shower gel over herself, running her hands along her arms, her shoulders, her breasts and abdomen, there was a kind of sensuality about it...
As if it were not her own hands running over her body...
For one vivid, overpowering moment she had a vision of Nikos standing beside her in the steamy enclosure, the water sluicing over both of them as she stood in front of him, his strong arms enveloping her, his hands on her body, soothing, easing, smoothing...caressing her as he washed her then turning her towards him, his arms sliding around her waist, drawing her to him...
She cut off the water. Furious with herself. What on earth was she thinking of? Nikos might be the man she’d married two days ago but he wasn’t her husband in anything but name. It was totally out of order to think of him in any other way.
Determinedly she stepped out of the shower, towel-dried herself vigorously without the slightest hint of sensuality at all, deliberately not looking at herself in the glass as she did so, and got dressed as quickly as possible.
Friendliness—that was the only atmosphere she wanted between them, and that was what she was set on ensuring.
To her relief, that seemed to be Nikos’s idea as well for the evening. So it was in an atmosphere of relaxed congeniality that they dined on their terrace, she wearing a simple cotton print dress with a thin lacy shawl around her shoulders, he in chinos and a polo shirt, feet in leather flip-flops, both of them casual and comfortable.
Unlike the elaborate tasting menu of the previous evening they chose more simple fare—grilled fish for herself, a steak for Nikos, followed by ice cream. Their conversation centred on chatting through the events of the afternoon, then Diana asked about his plans for the next day.
‘If you’re meeting those government ministers I’ll either laze by the pool or go and browse in the souks. Maybe both.’ She smiled at Nikos, reaching for a piece of fruit to chase down the last of her wine.
He smiled at her in return, the lamp on the table softening his features. In the dim light, Nikos looked less formidable than he so often did.
‘You’re a very complaisant wife—do you know that, Diana?’ he observed. ‘How many other brides would be so undemanding?’
She gave a laugh. ‘Good heavens, I’m perfectly capable of entertaining myself for a day, Nikos. So you go off and get your business done. Anyway, it’s not like I’m a real bride, after all,’ she finished lightly.
Was there a strange look in his eyes suddenly, or was it just the flickering candlelight?
His voice was lazily amused when he replied. ‘That very swish wedding seemed real enough to me.’
She made a face. ‘Oh, you know what I mean!’ she exclaimed, taking another piece of fruit.
‘Do I?’ he replied, in that same lazily amused tone.
‘Of course you do!’ she said in mock exasperation.
She made herself look straight at him. She had to put it behind her—right behind her—that stupid, totally inappropriate mooning that had come over her when she’d been showering. There was no place for it—none, she told herself sternly.
I have to crush it down if it ever strikes again. Blank it and ignore it until it no longer exists.
