AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Orange.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes,’ she laughed.
He nodded, as if impressed somehow. ‘I thought it would have been—’
‘Don’t you dare say it,’ warning him away from saying beige.
‘Entáxei—okay.’ His eyes were lit with mischief and the laughter on the air between them had broken some of the tension that had built since she’d first felt the heat from his body as he held out a chair for her.
Loukis laid his arm on the table, his palm outstretched for her, challenging her.
She stared at it as if it were something strange and new. An inexplicable urge took over her then. The desire to touch, to feel, to know... She pressed her thumb into the palm of his hand and drew it upwards along the length of his middle finger, his palm curling in gently as if wanting to prolong their connection, her touch. His skin felt smooth and warm beneath hers and it sent little starbursts across her hand and forearm. She resisted the urge to shiver.
‘Your turn,’ he said, breaking the spell that had held her in silence.
Her mind strangely blank, she searched for something as bland and unchallenging as the question he had posed, not quite ready to delve deeper.
‘What is your favourite food?’
‘Baklava.’ He answered too quickly for it to be a lie.
‘Really?’
‘I’m Greek. It would be criminal for me to say otherwise.’
Célia couldn’t help but smile at the prideful, playful tone and the trace of starlight in his eyes.
Hesitantly she placed her arm out the way that he had done and laid her hand open on the table before him. It was then that she realised what he had done. That in allowing her to be the one to touch him first, he had ensured that she would not be subjected to anything he wouldn’t receive himself. It made her feel...strangely safe. Until he touched her.
Receiving exactly the same touch that she had given sent sparks down her arm to her core, unable this time to prevent the shiver that wracked her body. Her palm flared then curled beneath his finger, just as his had done. Her nipples drew to stiff peaks as arousal, swift and sharp, pierced her and she flinched, withdrawing her hand suddenly.
He masked it quickly, but she saw something pass his features. Frustration, she thought, disappointment perhaps.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. That’s why we’re doing this. We need to become accustomed to each other,’ he stated simply as if he had not been devastated in the same way as she had by something so basic as one touch.
‘My turn. Where did you go to school?’
Célia’s body spun within some strange vortex as she forced herself to answer the question. ‘Switzerland. With Ella. Boarding school.’
‘Not France?’ he queried, probing for more details.
‘No, my fa—My parents wanted me to go to “the best of schools”,’ she said, adopting her father’s imperious tone. She cast a glance to Loukis, and if he noticed the slip, he was kind enough not to press.
He placed his arm on the table again, but this time face down. She hesitated again, then steeled herself for the impact, knowing what to expect this time. She placed her hand over his, smoothing her way up over his wrist and forearm, her fingers dipping beneath the rolled-up shirtsleeves, all the while braced against the sensations that drenched her.
Questions came and answers went, each time eliciting a touch here, there, an elbow, a little finger hooked around another, a thumb, a hand held, and a palm kissed gently. Loukis had moved his chair next to hers, so that the table no longer lay between them. Small plates of delicious food went ignored as the awareness and knowledge of each other deepened.
‘What three things would you save in a fire?’ Célia finally asked.
‘Annabelle.’
Célia smiled. ‘That’s just one thing,’ she chided.
‘I don’t need anything else.’
