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Scrambling, she latched onto the first thing that came to mind. ‘Um...hi. You didn’t change.’
He still wore the shorts and T-shirt he’d arrived in. And his feet were...bare. For insanely long moments she stared at them, wondering if she’d had way too much sun. Because only some sort of altered state would account for why she found Zeph’s bare feet sexy.
She snatched her rapt gaze away, only to follow the graceful masculine line of his shrug.
‘Nothing in my wardrobe seems satisfactory.’
Now she was certain she was losing her mind. ‘I’m sorry...what?’
He shrugged again, then dragged his fingers through his hair, threatening to leave her mouth gaping with the intoxicating picture he made.
Dear God, what was happening to her? Was she truly falling into the cliché of ‘needing to get laid’ to diffuse this sudden rampant lust haze overtaking her? When her two previous relationships before she’d married Zeph had all but fizzled out before they’d barely begun, leading her to believe her sex drive might be dysfunctional at best or broken beyond repair at worst?
‘There are two dozen shades of grey and black and navy in there. It doesn’t please me,’ he elaborated, thankfully shoving her back into the present, and the mundane discussion of clothing.
But it wasn’t as mundane as she wished.
Because even this felt like a weird role reversal from when she’d stepped off the private jet Zeph had sent to Texas to bring her to Athens.
He’d taken one look at her and summoned a handful of haute couture designers to his luxury apartment. Within hours she’d been the unwilling new owner of the latest designs and the darling of several renowned fashion designers.
Since then, as per his instructions, her wardrobe was refreshed on a seasonal basis without fail, with new and upcoming designers desperate for her to be on their ‘to-dress’ list. That keen desire garnered loyalty. Enough for her to trust their discretion if she were to make a request now.
Not that she intended to announce Zeph’s presence to any of them. She might still be relatively unknown, since she rarely socialised, but her name wielded enough power to ensure they remained extra discreet if they wanted her business.
‘I can arrange for a new wardrobe to be brought to the apartment this afternoon, if you’d like?’ she said, eager for this task to take her mind off...every electrifying thing about him.
He inclined his head in an almost regal fashion, absorbing far too much of her focus.‘Ne,efharisto,’he said, then he frowned. ‘The apartment?’
‘Yes, the chopper is waiting to take us into Athens. Your doctor is meeting us there in an hour. It’s all arranged.’
His jaw rippled with displeasure for a moment before he shrugged. ‘Very well. You’re in the driving seat,gynaika mou. For now.’
She told herself she wasn’t pleased that he’d dropped the Miss Callahan. And yet, for the second time since he stepped on the deck, addressing her with an endearment sent a fizzy spiral of...something through her.
‘Do you want anything else before we leave?’
‘Appreciated though it is, I’m beginning to feel like fragile glass. Enough with the fussing, Imogen. Let’s get this over with.’
A quick text to her stylist to get the wardrobe organised and she was grabbing her bag. Then she started when he reached for her elbow.
Either he didn’t see her startled expression or he chose to ignore it as he led her into the lift and up the three decks to the top where the sleek chopper waited.
Like the other members of the crew, the chopper pilot’s eyes were agog when he spotted Zeph. They exchanged words in Greek, with the pilot’s face wreathed in smiles.
And through it all, Zeph kept a hold of her, his fingers meshed with hers.
And with each second her breath grew shallower, this unique sensation of holding her husband’s hand throwing her for a loop. Which was why she mentioned it as soon as they were on board and the aircraft was winging its way north towards the Greek capital.
‘You don’t have to do this, you know?’ she blurted before she could stop herself.
His eyes narrowed. ‘Do what, exactly?’
‘This.’ She indicated the grip he had on her hand.
‘And why not?’
‘You’ll soon find out so I don’t think it’s a big deal to tell you. You’re a powerful man. You have a multibillion-euro business. You have homes around the world. You’ve dated some of the world’s most beautiful women. But this...isn’t like you. You’re not prone to public displays. So you don’t need to...keep holding my hand. Or whatever.’
