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Or at least that was the plan until some goddamn idiot had thought of throwing a bottle at the side of his head, hard enough for Nik to temporarily feel like the world was spinning faster than it should around him.
“What the fuck?”
He closed his eyes, working hard to get his sense of equilibrium back. After, he touched the side of his head but was not reassured by the fact that he wasn’t bleeding. It could be worse, Nik thought grimly, with the bottle causing internal damage.
Bending down, Nik reached for the bottle, intending to have it scanned for fingerprints. Whoever threw this at him would pay. He would—-
A gasp interrupted his thoughts, and Nik’s head immediately lifted up.
A woman?
His attacker was a woman?
She was tall and long-legged, her dark hair wavy, her large gray eyes dominating her heart-shaped face. She also happened to be extremely voluptuous, her hot pink summer dress showing off curves that seemed by inspired by Nik’s own secret fantasies.
Staring at her, Nik found his fury receding in the wake of his lust. The strength of his reaction made him tense. Before this, his sexual appetites had always been under his control. How could this woman affect him so differently? Why did one look at this woman make him want to punish her, made him itch to set her on his lap and slap her plump bottom until it was a rosy shade of pink?
More disturbingly sexual thoughts consumed him, but even so Nik managed to remain still and unspeaking, his face expressionless as he waited for the apology due him. Although the woman’s lovely face was as unreadable as his, her eyes gave her away. It showed inner struggle, as if she was torn between two things.
The thought was bemusing. What the fuck did she have to be confused about? Say sorry or throw a bottle at him for the second time?
Finally, the woman shifted on her feet. Her gaze lifted up to meet his, the same time she raised her chin proudly, almost challengingly. He should find it disrespectful and offensive, but instead Nik found it...arousing.
And then she turned her back on him.
For a moment, sheer incredulity swamped Nik, who had never been treated in such a way. Everyone around him quaked in his presence, and his word had always been law, one glance from him enough to translate into a command. Certainly no one had ever ignored him in this manner, but when the woman kept walking away, her own back stiff but her hips swaying in a mixture of provocation and innate sensuality, Nik realized that she truly was going to leave, just like that.
“Stop.”
Daria halted, but it wasn’t out of fear.
Curse it, curse it, curse it!
Her entire body trembled at the sound of his voice, but it wasn’t out of fear. No, the way her body was shaking right now was simply a basic response to the irrefutable power underlining his word. She craved that power, Daria realized shamefully, craved it so because, for some reason, she wanted the man to use it to dominate her.
And wasn’t that just sick?
Her fists clenched against her sides as she desperately tried to pull herself together. This was not happening. She wasn’t going to fail at the first stumbling block God placed in her way. This guy might be exactly her type, and her attraction to him might be unusually strong, but she would not waver.
She would not!
A shadow fell on the sand, followed by a figure crossing her path before stopping in front of Daria, and just like that, the impact of his sudden nearness hit her, and she was lost. His perfection at a distance, she could barely handle. But this close?
God, You’re killing me here.
He was like a custom designed male, built according to her every specification. Her height had always made it hard to find a taller guy to date, but this man easily topped her by almost a foot. She had also secretly dreamt of dating a man who wouldn’t blink at her weight, who would be able to carry her over the threshold without losing his breath. In all her years of dating, she hadn’t found one who could, but this man?
This man looked strong and powerful enough to carry Daria and her entire set of luggage with him, and that was no light feat, considering her tendency to over-pack.
Dear God, this was too much temptation. Whoever Mr. Right was for her, he had better be perfect. Only perfection could be worth all this agony.
Not daring to look at him, Daria started to speak, only to have the sound of the stranger’s phone ringing breaking the silence between them first. She closed her mouth and instead watched in silence as the man pulled out an iPhone from his pocket. He answered the call in Greek and as he turned sideways, she caught sight of the printed bumper that lined the sides of his phone.
Her breath caught.
No.
It couldn’t be.
