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“Ne,” he agreed. “I remember everything about you.”
She looked away, swallowing convulsively. It was too much. This Loucas, in full on seduction mode, was impossible to resist.
He opened the front passenger door, and as she slipped into the seat, he ran a solitary finger down her exposed arm. Goose bumps covered her skin where his touch had been.
“Loucas,” she whispered. She was drowning. The strength of desire was overwhelming her, sucking her under the current of their lust, and she didn’t know how to stay afloat.
“Mmm?” He lifted her hand and kissed the soft flesh on the inside of her wrist.
Mikey shivered. “We have to go out, right?”
He laughed. “You wanted to know what it’s like to be one of my ‘glamorous’ women, didn’t you?”
Did she? She just wanted to be his woman. Not one of. The only one. Forever. It terrified her. She jerked her head in a nod. “Then sit down and buckle up.”
She did as he said, but the thrumming pulse in between her legs was impossible to ignore. “Where are we going?”
He slid her a sidelong glance as he revved the engine. “You’ll see.”
“A surprise?”
“Yes.” His eyes flared. “As you are, in every way, little lamb.”
She looked out of her side of the car, towards the coastline. He drove with as much expertise as the day they’d been to the beach, and with as little regard for speed. She felt safe. Completely safe. There was no Andrew to consider, and she tipped her head back and laughed as the wind dislodged her hair completely from its bun.
“Loucas, look at me,” she said on a giggle, as he swerved the car to a stop on the side of the road. “I’m a mess.”
He removed the keys and tilted his head to look at Mikey. Her hair was now a bouffant blonde mane, teased out by the wind, shining in the dusk sun. Her cheeks were pink with exhilaration. “Perfect.” He said with a look that left her in little doubt that he meant it.
She highly doubted it.
He opened her door and she stepped out. “Almost perfect,” he whispered.
She felt her heart flip over painfully in her chest. Something was wrong. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a long, slim velvet covered box.
“What is it?” She asked dubiously, when he handed it to her.
“Open it.”
She did as he said, and then heaved in a deep breath. Inside, lying against the unassuming beige cushion of the jewellery box, was a necklace. If she wasn’t mistaken, and she was pretty sure she wasn’t, it was filled with diamonds.
When she didn’t say anything, or do anything except stare at the piece with a slightly deranged expression, he lifted it from the box and held it out to her.
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Still, she didn’t move, so he looped it around her neck. He lifted her hair, breathing in its sweet fragrance and wishing he could take her here and now, against the side of the car. His need for her was overrunning every scruple he had. Certainly every fibre of his being was staging a mini revolution inside him, at his determination to see the night through before finally releasing them both from this agonising state of sexual torture.
He clipped the necklace in place, then ran his broad hands over her exposed shoulder. Her skin was smooth like satin and warm like the water off the coast would be.
“Now, you’re perfect,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, as he stood back to observe the piece in place.
Finally, she found her voice. She lifted a hand to the diamond necklace, and shook her head. “Loucas, it’s beautiful, but it’s too much.”
His lips twisted into a frown but he wiped it off his face quickly. “You are beautiful. Nothing is too much for you.”
“Are these... diamonds?”
His nod was arrogant. “Of course.”
