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Fun didn’t seem the right word, Milly thought as she paced the living room alone, dressed in a simple navy shift dress, yet another one of her outfits from those brought to her at the hotel.
She felt as if she were crackling with nervous energy, about to combust. Where was Alex? She hadn’t seen him in hours, and yet she had no idea what she would say when she did see him. What she would do. And more importantly, more alarmingly and, yes, excitingly, what he would do.
Her mind blanked every time she started to think about it, even as her nerve-endings became hyper-aware and her heart began to thud, and that molten-honey feeling trickled through her, igniting aches she’d never felt before.
‘Good evening, Milly.’
She whirled around to see Alex standing in the doorway, dressed in a white button-down shirt open at the throat and dark trousers. His hair was spiky and damp from a recent shower, his lean jaw freshly shaven. As always he angled his face so she couldn’t see his scarred side, but, regardless, he was devastatingly handsome, and she felt herself go weak at the knees, swaying a little at the sight of him.
‘H-hello.’ Her voice came out breathy with nerves and inside her black flats her toes curled. Scars or no, he was so beautiful, and she was so plain. Did he desire her at all? She could tell nothing from his carefully bland expression. ‘Anna has gone with Yiannis and his wife for the night,’ she blurted, willing herself not to flush. ‘To give us some privacy.’
‘So Yiannis told me. That was very considerate of them.’
‘Have you known Yiannis long?’
‘Since I was a child.’
‘You have roots here,’ Milly observed. ‘Yiannis, the villagers...’
‘Yes.’ He glanced away. ‘We came here, as a family, when I was young. Holidays every summer, some of the happiest memories I possess.’
‘And the villa...?’
‘I’ve had it for ten years. Now come.’ He spoke flatly as he held out one hand and Milly stared at him, trying not to tremble. This step felt as momentous as the one she’d taken before, into the church. There would be no going back.
His eyebrow lifted as he remained with his hand outstretched. ‘Are you scared?’ he asked, a hint of gentleness in his voice.
‘A little,’ she confessed.
His mouth tightened and he nodded. ‘I will do my best to make this as quick and painless as possible.’
Which made it sound as if she was about to endure some awful medical procedure, and she hardly wanted that. Everything inside Milly shook.
‘That’s kind of you,’ she said, because she was overcome with nerves and she didn’t know what to say. She could hardly ask him to make love to her, could she? To kiss and touch her like the hazy images that kept flitting through her head and making her dizzy with desire?
Just the thought of admitting how she felt, opening herself up to such vulnerability, made her tremble in a whole other way. She couldn’t do that. Now, more than ever, was a time to protect herself.
Alex’s mouth twisted, tightening his scar. ‘It’s the least I can do, Milly. I’m sorry...’ He paused, then shook his head. ‘Never mind. This is the way it is.’ He reached for her hand, his fingers sliding over hers and then tightening imperceptibly, drawing her to him. Milly’s heart thudded in her chest.
They hadn’t even kissed. They’d barely touched. And yet very soon they would be committing the most intimate act a man and woman could together, an act that would unite them for ever. She was terrified, and yet within that fear was a lick of excitement, an ember of need waiting only to be fanned into flame, if Alex would just show her some modicum of tenderness, of desire...
She knew she was attracted to Alex on a basic, physical level. Her body responded to his; even the expensive, woodsy scent of him enflamed her senses, stoking that ember. Yet Alex seemed completely unaffected by her as he led her away from the living room, up the stairs, towards his bedroom, striding along like a man intent on getting the job done.
But why should he desire her? In her head she heard Philippe’s mocking voice. ‘How could I want someone like you?’ And she tried to drown it out. She didn’t want to think about Philippe now of all moments.
Alex opened the door to his bedroom and then sucked in a surprised breath. ‘What...?’
Milly peered inside, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the creamy candles flickering on various surfaces, a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver bucket by the bed.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she mumbled, heat flooding her face as she thought of how this would look to Alex. ‘This is Anna’s work. Obviously.’
‘Obviously?’ he queried sardonically, and her blush intensified.
‘I wouldn’t do something like this.’ Heaven forbid he think she was trying to make the mood romantic.
‘Of course you wouldn’t.’ She couldn’t gauge his tone as he strode into the room and began to snuff out the candles with the tips of his fingers, causing a sizzling sound with each one.
‘Can’t...can’t you leave at least one?’
