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“I want you,” he said, into her mouth, knowing it was breaking a rule, going against the careful lines they’d drawn up.

She pulled back, breath ragged, eyes hooded by desire. “So? What are you going to do about it?”

It was all she needed to say. All he needed to hear. He scooped down and lifted her easily, wrapping her legs around his waist as he strode from the conservatory, through the ground floor of his house and then up to his bedroom. So he could fuck her without the possibility of interruption, where no one could hear her scream the euphoric scream of a woman being pleasured to the point of passing out. God, but he was addicted to this, to her. It was the last thought he had before burying himself deep inside of her and rejoicing in the tight squeeze of her muscles around his length. His own euphoric release beckoned…

CHAPTER 7

“IDIDN’T COME LOOKING for you for that,” he said, while Chloe was still trying to catch her breath, waves of pleasure still throbbing through her. She tilted her face to his, the tightness of his features, the mask of discipline on his face.

For the first time since they’d started this, they’d let it get out of hand.

It was the fight.

Had it been a fight, though? Or foreplay? His concern had been genuine, but after that, they’d sparred for sport, her wilfully provoking him, him refusing to let it blow over. She’d have put money on him choosing the word ‘obey’ to get a response from her. And it had worked.

“Why did you then?”

He hesitated, turning to face her, eyes running over her no-doubt flushed cheeks, and passion-bruised mouth.

“To see if you wanted to go for lunch.”

Surprise shifted inside her. “Lunch?”

“Not a date,” he promised, so she smiled because it was expected of her, not because she felt amused. Or even reassured. She couldn’t say what she felt. The last half hour had robbed her completely of sense. “But there’s a pretty well-known gastro pub in town, in the hook of the river. Given that you’re only here a few more days, I thought I should take you there. It’d be a crime to have stayed so close and not enjoyed it.”

Sensible, sensible, sensible, she thought. He was offering her something but making sure it was safe to accept, still within the bounds of what they’d agreed to.

“Think of it as a thank you,” he added, perhaps because he thought she was wavering.

“For…?”

“For your work. For not falling off a ladder. For not using a ladder again without me in the room. Take your pick.”

A smile tugged at her lips despite the weird feeling in her chest. In the end, hunger made the decision easy. “Sure. Give me ten?”

He hadn’t been lying. The gastropub was Michelin-star rated, and one of the most beautiful little stone buildings she’d ever seen. The whole frontage was covered by bare vines, which in the summer she could imagine resplendent with the fragrant mauve wisteria blossoms. Inside, was just as charming. Fireplaces, wide timber floorboards, big, old rugs and an eclectic mismatch of rustic furniture that instantly worked. That was before the hint of delicious savoury fragrances assailed her and made her stomach groan. As for Christmas, it was well and truly represented in the little pub, with a tree in one corner, and strings of sparkling lights draped over the beams.

“This place is so great,” she said, shaking her head a little as they weaved through busy tables towards the last remaining spot. It was late in the lunch service and a single sofa was available, in front of a coffee table with a board game spread out over it. As they sat, a waitress in a white button-down shirt, jeans and a black apron approached.

“I’m sorry, but the kitchen is—” she began. She stopped speaking when her eyes landed on Dimitrios. “Oh! Mr Konstantino. Welcome back.”

A smile tugged at Chloe’s lips. “Were you saying the kitchen is closed?” she couldn’t help asking, her voice sweet as pie.

“Not for one of our best customers,” the waitress immediately responded, cheeks flushing. “I can clear a table for you.”

“All the other tables are in use,” Chloe pointed out.

The waitress glanced around, lifted one shoulder. “I’m sure I can work something out.”

“No, no,” Chloe said quickly, feeling a laugh bubbling through her. “This is more than okay, right, Mr Konstantino?” she couldn’t help adding, glancing up at him and seeing the effect those words had on him.

“Right,” he said, voice husky with the need that was always bubbling just beneath the surface.

“If you’re sure,” the waitress said. “I’ll bring some menus.”

As soon as they were alone, Chloe turned to face Dimitrios, one brow raised.

“What?” he asked, all gruff, alpha innocence. “What’s wrong?”