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d known since reaching sexual maturity, was a unique experience he was growing addicted to. ‘You look a little...hot, glykia mou. Perhaps a swim before we get ready for dinner?’ he asked.
She frowned. ‘What’s going on, Christos? You’re acting...different.’
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps it’s the island air.’
When her gaze remained sceptical, his gut tightened. After several moments, she nodded. ‘A swim would be nice.’
He chose the larger of the two pools at the villa because it was overlooked by his grandfather’s suite. Or so he told himself twenty minutes later when they stopped beside twin loungers and he took her hand and lifted it to his lips.
He tightened his grip when she attempted to pull away. ‘Stop. Costas is watching.’
She stilled, then swallowed. ‘That doesn’t mean you...that we have to—’
He stopped her words by passing a thumb over her lips. ‘On the contrary, yineka mou, it means exactly that.’
‘Christos—’
‘I like the breathy way you say my name. I’m almost convinced you want to kiss me just as much as I want to kiss you.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
* * *
A smile slashed his face, but Alexis noticed the slight tension around the edges. For some reason, it made her shiver in anticipation. He clearly felt it course through her, his eyes darkening in direct response.
Then every single word of protest locked in her throat as he slowly tilted her face up, as his fierce gaze combed her face, lingering with blatant sensuality on her lips. Lips that tingled with every second he held them both in suspense. In the far recesses of her mind, she knew this was just for show. But, sweet heaven, her every reaction felt real, right down to the sharp sting in her nipples, the hot need burning between her thighs. That essential urge to raise her hands, place them on his warm, virile skin, experience the sleek movement of his hard-packed muscles.
It was a need a million times more potent, more urgent than she’d felt in the distant past when she’d once believed herself in love. And that made it almost...frightening. Because if she felt like this with Christos over the mere promise of a kiss, then what—
The thought shattered as his lips brushed over hers. Once. Twice.
Then he was claiming her in a vivid, ferocious kiss that jerked her hands to his waist for fear she’d fall if...when her knees gave out. Because his kiss was intoxicating, that stroke of his tongue, once he’d breached her lips, the stuff of pure addiction.
A moan escaped her, triggering a grunt from him. Then he was gathering her closer, his arm banding her waist, lifting her against him until her toes left the ground, left reality. Her breasts, heavy and needy, plastered against his chest, her belly cradling his hardening arousal.
‘Thee mou,’ he rasped under his breath.
The raw sentiment echoed inside Alexis, a distant voice urging her to take note of the ground shifting beneath her feet, of the need to withdraw, stabilise herself before it was too late.
But then his hand was moving over her body, gripping and releasing her hip, then cupping her buttock. Alexis gasped all over again, the sound greedily swallowed into his mouth when he rolled his hips against hers, imprinting his erection in a blatant caress that fired heatwaves through her.
‘As much as I like the feel of those nails of yours sinking into my skin, we’re at risk of this turning scandalously graphic if we don’t control ourselves,’ he murmured darkly in her ear.
And by that he meant her, of course. Because she’d completely lost track of her surroundings, had only been intent on satisfying the clawing hunger inside her. But it hadn’t been just that. There’d been a weighty need to...belong. To hold on to him and not let go, if only for a little while. To be a part of something good and worthy. Something she didn’t have to give up, like the friends the nuns at Hope House had cautioned her against making.
This is an orphanage.
Nothing is permanent.
Don’t form attachments.
Short, simple warnings that had epitomised the paucity of entanglements she’d experienced as a child. She’d made the mistake of disregarding them a few times and been rewarded with heartbreak when those fragile friendships had broken before they’d had a chance to properly kindle. And of course, once the children had left, they’d never looked back. She’d particularly felt the truth of the nuns’ warnings the two times she’d come within a whisker of being adopted only to be returned to Hope House because it didn’t work out.
‘Did he make you feel like this?’
She blinked, focused back on the drop-dead gorgeous face of Christos. Of her husband. ‘I...what?’
‘West,’ he said through teeth that sounded gritted. ‘Did he make you tremble like this?’ he demanded, his voice containing a harsh edge.
