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'Probably because as a married woman with a baby she didn't want to take advantage of the situation and appear to be doing less than her share. But surely you realised that with a baby disrupting her sleep the last thing she needed was to get up at the crack of dawn to go to work?'
'Oh, hell!' Jemma swore. Why hadn't she insisted Liz forget the early starts? Because, if she were being brutally honest. Jemma wasn't really keen on them herself? 'You're right, she said, feeling ashamed.
Luke's eyes lit with amusement, his hand resuming its caressing motion over her breasts. 'I usually am,' he teased. 'So, no more arguments.' His lips brushed lightly across her mouth, a fingertip scraping over a burgeoning nipple, and the teasing caresses eased her back into languorous pleasure again. 'But in consolation,' he husked, 'you were right about my being insatiable.' She saw the shadow of passion darken his chiselled features. 'And you love it, Jemma.' His mouth covered hers in a long, slow, sensuous kiss, and she had to acknowledge that she did…
Half an hour later she refused his offer to join him in the shower, her body still pulsing in the aftermath of his tender yet torrid lovemaking. For a moment she just lay there, staring into space and trying to analyse what had happened to her. It was now Monday morning and they hadn't left the suite since their arrival on Saturday night. In fact, they had hardly left the bed.
Luke had shown her a whole new dimension to her sexuality; one she had never known existed. She had loved Alan, and their first night together. She remembered crying afterwards, overcome with emotion at the wonder of his lovemaking. They had made love frequently, and if she hadn't reached orgasm very often it had never bothered her, so sure had she been of being loved. His death had almost torn her apart, the pain horrendous, and she never wanted to go through that again.
But Luke aroused no such emotion in her—certainly no desire to cry. In truth, as he had led her down the many erotic paths of sexuality with a skill and expertise that drove her mindless, her only emotion—if it could be called an emotion—had been a wild and reckless carnal need to devour him whole.
So what did that make her? Jemma wondered and rising from the bed, she pulled on a towelling wrap and walked across to the window, to stare pensively out at the view of sand and sea. She heard the shower running and turned to stare at the bathroom door, her heartbeat increasing as she pictured Luke naked in the shower.
She answered her own question as she walked towards the bathroom. She was probably the perfect wife for a man like Luke, a notorious womaniser who saw marriage only as a business deal. They both wanted something from the union, but love did not come into the equation. Well, that suited Jemma just fine. And opening the bathroom door, she shrugged off her robe and joined Luke in the shower stall.
* * *
Luke looked at the steps carved into the rock and then back at Jemma. 'Is this the only way down?'
'There's a jetty of sorts, and you can get to the house by boat, but otherwise this is it,' she said, grinning up at him. 'I hope you're fit.' She stepped past him to descend the steps.
'No—wait.' Luke grabbed her arm. 'Let me go first, then if you fall I can stop you.' He had no intention of losing his very new wife in a headlong fall onto the rocks below.
'My, what a gentleman,' Jemma teased, but did as he said.
Aunt Mary's house on Zante was a typical island cottage—all on one level, about twenty feet wide and forty feet long, and set in the middle of a narrow strip of land slightly higher than the beach. It had been extended a decade or so ago, quite simply, by adding another twenty feet to one end to create a comfortable living area, with floor-to-ceiling glass doors to take full advantage of the magnificent view.
'It's not as bad as I thought,' Luke remarked as they stopped outside the original door, and Jemma permitted herself a small smile. He was in for a shock… 'I've arranged for an architect to look over the place on Wednesday.' Which immediately knocked the smile off Jemma's face. She didn't want a stranger to see inside her aunt's house—and certainly not in Jemma's presence. She cringed with embarrassment at the very thought as she opened the door and led Luke through into the living area.
Jemma had seen it all before—the two huge soft cushioned cream sofas, a bit shabby after years of use, the glass-topped table supported by two dolphins, the small semi circular bar in one corner and the wall of book-filled shelves. But telltale signs of Aunt Mary were all around her, and the memories came flooding back. Restlessly she moved across to the window to stare sadly out to sea, and she wondered if her aunt would approve of what she had done.
Luke came up behind her and put his arm casually around her waist. She leant back against him, for once glad of his support. 'I don't see why you thought it wasn't fit to live in. It is a bit on the small side, but fine for holiday home. I can see now why Theo wanted to come back here. He was right about the cove, the view is spectacular.'
'Yes,' Jemma agreed, her gaze on the high cliffs that protruded about a hundred feet at either side of the small bay, protecting it from the worst of the elements. Her eyes rested on the opposite side, where a landing of sorts had been hewn out of the rock and a path led through the garden area back to the house.
'Come on—let's check out the bedrooms. Theo said t
here were two, but given the size of the building they will have to be extended and another couple added,' Luke suggested, turning her in his arms and looking deep into her eyes. 'I don't like to feel constrained in the bedroom,' he added wickedly.
A slight blush stained Jemma's cheeks. 'I know,' she murmured, her eyes darkening perceptibly, and he angled down his head and claimed her full, slightly parted lips, his tongue probing straight between them with the overwhelming eroticism of an expert.
The familiar sensual excitement lanced through her, and she closed her hands around the nape of his neck and pressed into the hard muscular wall of his chest, her breasts tingling with the contact. For a moment Jemma gave herself up to the physical pleasure only Luke could arouse in her. But only for a moment. A much better idea occurred to her and she slid her hands down between them and tore her mouth from his. She saw the puzzlement in his eyes and her lips curled in a mischievous smile.
'You wanted to see the bedroom,' she reminded him, and, twisting away, she chuckled as she darted through the big room to the hall.
Luke gave her a quizzical look as he stopped beside her. 'Why do I have the feeling you're up to something, Jemma?'
Still smiling, she opened the door to the bedroom and switched on the light, illuminating the shuttered room with a subdued glow. Theatrically flinging her arms wide, she said, 'Da-da…!'
'Oh, my God!' Luke exclaimed.
The expression on his face was priceless and Jemma laughed out loud. The original two bedrooms and bathroom had been knocked into one large room with an en-suite bathroom at the far end. The murals covering three walls depicted erotic naked figures from ancient Greek legend in incredible positions, and in intimate detail. The ceiling was draped in wild silk shot through with gold, and in the centre was a beaten gold canopy that was supported by snake-entwined gold poles, which was an intrinsic part of the huge circular bed beneath.
'Now I understand why you didn't want Theo to visit,' Luke said, drawing her against him, his appreciative gaze narrowing to shards of pure silver. 'But I don't understand why you thought it was unsuitable for you and I.'
Jemma's mouth ran dry, a wanton surge of heat igniting in her belly. 'Perhaps because I didn't know you so well when I said that,' she suggested huskily, and, slightly surprised at her own boldness, she wrapped her arms around him. The atmosphere between them sizzled with sexual tension.
'And now you do, shall we stay here a while?' Luke asked thickly.
