The Greek's Unknown Bride

Sophy lifted her hips towards him, her small hand seeking to wrap around his rigid flesh, bringing his head close to where her body ached for him. For an infinitesimal moment he was poised there on the brink and then he took her hand away and joined their bodies with one powerful thrust.

She was so ready for him. She could feel her inner muscles clamping around him in a pre-orgasmic rush of sensation.

There was no time for slow lovemaking. It was fast and furious, both racing for the pinnacle and reaching it at the same incandescent moment, bodies entwined and locked together in an explosion of pleasure that went on and on. Sophy wasn’t even aware of Apollo extricating himself from her embrace or of the way he stood up from the bed and looked at her for a long moment.

A week later, Apollo looked at Sophy across the dinner table that had been set on the terrace of the villa. She was talking to Olympia and the older woman’s face was wreathed in smiles as she showed Sophy pictures on her phone of her newest grandchild.

Apollo marvelled at how he had been so blinkered by Sasha’s deviousness that he hadn’t noticed how different this woman was.

People responded to Sophy because she was open and kind. Polite. She was also sexy and utterly addictive. During the past week, Apollo had effectively shut out the world to gorge himself on this woman. But her appeal wasn’t waning at all, or burning out. It was burning hotter. Becoming stronger.

He’d been ignoring calls from his office in Athens, to the point where his executive assistant had turned up on Krisakis today to speak to him personally. A visit that had broken him out of the haze of desire, shattering the illusion that he didn’t have to engage with the outside world.

An image inserted itself into his mind—Sophy laughing and dancing with the other women at the wedding. The way seeing her like that had opened a great gaping chasm of yearning inside him. A yearning he’d had to eclipse by making love to her like a starving man. A yearning that lingered and caught at him under his skin. Chafing. Unwelcome.

A yearning that had made him careless. For a second time. Something he’d effectively blocked out all week. He was losing control, letting her in too deep.

Olympia was walking away with their plates now and Sophy looked at Apollo, her smile fading at the expression on his face. ‘What is it?’

A stone weight made his chest feel tight. But he ignored it. ‘We need to talk.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SOPHY FOLLOWED APOLLO into his study, her insides in a knot. He’d been distracted since his assistant had visited earlier. There was a spectacular view of the ocean and vast sky, which was currently a glorious pink and lavender colour. But that faded into insignificance behind the man dominating the space.

Apollo rested on the edge of his desk, hands by his hips. Hips that Sophy could remember holding only a few short hours before as he’d—

She blurted out a question to try and distract herself from memories of a week spent indulging in the pursuit of sensual oblivion. ‘What is it, Apollo?’

But she already knew. It skated across her skin like a cold breeze. In fact, she’d been aware of it all week, even if she hadn’t acknowledged it. The real world was waiting, just in the wings.

Even so, she wasn’t prepared when he said tightly, ‘When we made love...after the wedding, I didn’t use protection that night. I told you I wouldn’t be careless again but I was.’

Sophy’s insides went into freefall. She hadn’t even noticed, hadn’t even thought about it afterwards.

Faintly she said, ‘It wasn’t just your fault. I should have been careful too.’ It had been the last thing on her mind during that conflagration. Or during this week, when it had felt like their world had been reduced to this villa, this island. Apollo’s bed.

You didn’t want to think about anything that would burst the bubble.

No, she hadn’t. She’d deliberately shied away from thinking about anything that might break the idyll. She’d let the fantasy become her reality. And now she would pay.

She almost put a hand on her belly but closed it into a fist. She said, ‘It’s okay. I’m at a safe place in my cycle. I’m sure of it.’

Apollo seemed to absorb that, and then he said, ‘My assistant brought your personal things today, including your passport. And Sasha’s body is ready for repatriation. My office will arrange everything for her funeral if you just give them the necessary information of where you want her buried.’

The cold breeze turned to ice in Sophy’s belly. ‘That won’t be necessary, I can do all that.’

‘I insist. She was my wife, after all. You won’t have to worry about costs.’

Sophy swallowed. ‘When do we leave?’

‘Leander, my assistant, is still on the island, staying in the town. He will come for you in the morning and you will travel back to Athens with him, and then on to London with your sister. You’ll be met by an assistant from my London office on the other side, they’ll help you make further arrangements.’

Sophy searched for a hint of anything on Apollo’s face or in his eyes, but he’d retreated somewhere she couldn’t reach. She’d noticed it when he’d arrived for dinner—when he’d avoided her eye. He’d been shut up in his office with his assistant for most of the afternoon.

‘You won’t be coming back to Athens?’

‘Not just yet. I have some meetings here on the island to do with the construction and I’ll travel back the following day.’