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If Kate had ever thought she could escape from the hold he had over her she now knew she’d been wrong. And, scarier still, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to.
Making herself concentrate on taking pictures, Kate strolled around the square, shading her eyes to gaze up at the soaring bell tower, admiring the way the sunlight glinted off the gilded flanks of the four enormous horses above the entrance to the Basilica. There was no shortage of things to photograph—everywhere she looked there was a potentially stunning shot.
She didn’t know exactly where Nikos was sitting having his coffee, and there was no way she was going to seek him out, but she still felt as if his eyes were following her around—as if he was the marksman and she was his target. She was still obsessively aware of him even when he wasn’t there.
Photographs done, she replaced the lens cap and pushed back her shoulders. The sunshine was warm, and she was starting to regret her decision to wear leather trousers. Shorts would have been a better choice...or something cotton and floaty.
‘Did you get the shots you wanted?’
Her temperature only soared higher as Nikos came to stand beside her, sliding a strong arm around her waist. Kate looked around, expecting to see a photographer lurking somewhere, assuming this must be another photo op orchestrated by Nikos in his relentless pursuit of generating favourable publicity for his cause. But there was no photographer—just a sea of tourists, much like themselves, going about their business.
Silently Nikos’s hand dipped lower, settling on her hip, his fingers spreading so that they curved over the top of her bottom. Each and every one of Kate’s muscles went into spasm.
‘Yes, thanks.’ She held herself very still, fighting the burn of his touch. It felt like a deliberate test, to see how she would react.
When he took his hand away she allowed herself a quick breath, but now his fingers were inching under the hem of her blouse, finding their way to the bare skin of her waist, whispering over her flesh. And then Kate did react—she felt a rush of blood spreading to her core.
She could have so easily pulled away. But with his caress like velvet against her overheated skin she found herself edging closer to him, inviting his hand to move further under her blouse, to find more of her over-sensitised flesh.
‘You feel a little warm, agape mou.’ Nikos slanted her a lazy smile, and there was more than a hint of triumph in his eyes. ‘Shall we go somewhere to cool down?’
Swallowing hard, Kate took a step away. ‘I might go back to the hotel to change. I hadn’t realised the weather would be so hot.’
‘It’s true.’ His dark eyes were heavy with seduction. ‘The temperature does seem to have shot up.’
They started back in the direction of their hotel, walking quickly, dodging tourists, as if a sudden unspoken purposefulness was moving them forward.
The hotel lobby was cool and dark after the brightness outside. Set directly on the Grand Canal, The Palazzo, with its Baroque architecture and opulent furnishings, had to be one of the most exclusive hotels in Venice. But for some reason it only had a teeny-tiny elevator. As the door slid closed behind them and Nikos towered over her, radiating heat and hunger and pure sexual magnetism, Kate felt the small amount of oxygen in it vanish completely.
* * *
Nikos fixed Kate with a direct stare, watching with male satisfaction at the way her breasts hitched beneath the heat of his gaze, listening with quiet pleasure to the small gasp of her shortened breath. Neither of them said anything, but as the elevator groaned its way to the penthouse suite there was no mistaking the heavy thud of desire beating between them.
He adjusted his weight, impatient now, his need rapidly overtaking his anticipation, delicious though it was. Never far from the surface, his hunger for Kate had ramped up painfully that morning when she’d appeared wearing those black trousers. That leather-clad butt had been tormenting him all day, and turning other men’s heads in her direction too—even more so than usual.
Nikos didn’t like that. He had only been half joking when he’d made that quip about warning off amorous suitors. Watching her walking around St Mark’s Square being ogled by every red-blooded chancer in the place had set his blood simmering, until eventually he’d had no choice but to stride over to claim her for himself, his hand on her backside branding her as his. And the reality hadn’t disappointed. Feeling her muscles tighten beneath his touch had spread a fire to his groin that still burned, hot and fierce.
