The Kiss She Claimed From The Greek

Achilles felt a dangerous sense of volatility. No other woman who admitted to wanting him would deny herself. Or him. And it wasn’t just about the sex, Achilles knew. It was about the fact that Sofie was exerting a level of self-control that he could only admire.

This evening had been unexpected. He hadn’t known what he’d planned on doing when he’d tracked Sofie down to the flower-arranging class. He hadn’t quite believed what his driver had said she was doing. It was so far beyond the realms of what any of his other lovers had done.

And then he’d realised the pizzeria was nearby. A place he wouldn’t dream of taking a lover. Because none of his other lovers would have stepped over the threshold. They would have been horrified by the lack of luxury. But he loved it. Because it had been his and his father’s place. And he’d known Sofie would love it too.

Achilles stood on the private terrace outside his bedroom. Hands on the wall. He bunched them into fists. If anything, his instinct to take Sofie to such a sacred place was a wake-up call.

She’d told him she wouldn’t sleep with him because her emotions were involved. His were still on ice. But he was coming perilously close to breaking all his own rules. The rules that protected him from risking losing his loved ones all over again.

He didn’t have loved ones and he wasn’t about to lose his mind completely and change that. Not for anyone. No matter how good the sex.

Sofie was waiting for Achilles to appear in the main drawing room the following evening just before six. She was wearing a deep royal blue strapless dress. Ruched over her chest, it had a high waist and fell to the floor in silken folds with a chiffon overlay. It was dreamy and romantic and not helping her state of mind.

The hair and make-up team had applied make-up that made her glow. Her eyes looked huge and her mouth looked plump, as if she’d just been kissed. Her hair had been pulled back into a chignon. She wore a diamond necklace and matching bracelet. Matching blue clutch and high-heeled sandals.

She’d never felt so elegant. So far removed from herself. It only compounded the numbness she felt. At the thought that this was it. And also the earth-shattering discovery she’d made just a while ago.

Numbness was good. Protective.

There was a sound and Achilles appeared in the doorway. He was doing up a cufflink, so he didn’t see her at first. It gave Sofie a moment to gather herself, to observe him.

In a black tuxedo, he was breathtakingly handsome. Broad-shoulders. Narrow waist. Long legs. She drank him in greedily. Knowing it wouldn’t be long before everything changed. But, weakly, she diverted her mind from that now.

He looked up. Stopped moving. Eyes narrowed. Looked her up and down. Sofie’s skin tingled. Her blood grew hot.

‘You look beautiful,’ he said.

She felt beautiful. For the first time in her life. ‘Thank you.’

He led her downstairs to the car and they made the relatively short journey to the museum. It was thronged outside, with glamorous guests arriving and paparazzi with flashing cameras.

There was a red carpet. This was definitely the highest profile event they’d attended. As soon as Sofie joined Achilles at the bottom of the red-carpeted steps there was a hush, and then an explosion of lights. Sofie flinched.

Achilles took her hand and said, ‘Stick close to me.’

She had no intention of going anywhere else.

Somehow they made it to the top of the steps and the furore died down a little.

Inside the museum it was a magical wonderland. Everything was gold and glittered. The vast ceilings were elaborately frescoed. Discreet waiters moved through the crowd offering sparkling wine and hors d’oeuvres.

Sofie was too scared to eat.

After moving through the crowd and stopping to talk to people, they were gently guided into another vast room, with round tables that had elaborate central floral displays. Achilles led her to a table near the front, where there was a small stage. A tuxedoed trio were playing classical music. As the guests took their seats they stopped playing and a well-known movie star got up and spoke.

Sofie realised it was an auction, with lots ranging from yachts to even a small island. This really was the domain of the richest people in the world.

Achilles’s arm was across the back of her chair and his fingers brushed her bare shoulder from time to time. She knew it was for the benefit of the crowd and any stray photographers, but she wanted to beg him to stop it. He was causing havoc in her body. She’d survived the week pretty well up to now, precisely because there had been little to no physical contact.

And then a lot came up and she felt Achilles tense beside her. It was to be part of a world-renowned team in a catamaran race. There was some footage of the incredibly delicate-looking craft shown, and to Sofie it looked terrifying. It seemed only the skill of the sailors stopped it from flipping and breaking into a thousand pieces in the sea.

When the bidding started she nearly fell off her chair when Achilles put in a bid for a stupid amount of money. Monopoly money. She heard people gasp around them. She wasn’t the only one to realise the significance, apparently.

Achilles kept bidding. Sofie looked at him. His face was stony. The movie star tried to raise another bid but none was coming. The gavel went down on Achilles’s last bid.

Sofie sensed eyes on her and Achilles even as the auction moved on and other lots were announced.

When she felt as if they were under slightly less scrutiny, she said, ‘What were you thinking? You hate boats. And not only that—it looks terrifyingly dangerous.’

He turned to her and picked up her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand. Sofie shivered inwardly. There was something bleak in Achilles’s gaze.

He said, ‘Haven’t you heard of facing your fears?’

‘Yes,’ said Sofie weakly, hating herself for being so distracted. ‘But I think you could have started by taking a ferry trip across the Hudson or down the Thames.’

She couldn’t hide her concern. Not anymore. Not when there was more at stake. So much more. She said, ‘Achilles, look, there’s something I need to tell you...’

But the auction was drawing to a close and he was tugging her out of her seat and saying, ‘Let’s dance.’

Sofie let herself be led, sensing a strange volatility in Achilles. They followed the sounds of music to another room with dimmed lighting and couples dancing. He pulled her into his body on the dance floor and, weakly, Sofie couldn’t help herself melting against his much harder contours.

For a moment she almost forgot. Or tried to fool herself into thinking she could forget. She looked up at Achilles’s jaw. It was hard...unyielding. She hated the idea of him doing something as dangerous as taking part in a catamaran race purely to test himself. Even though her opinion probably didn’t mean all that much.

‘You don’t have to do it, you know,’ she said.

He looked down at her. ‘Yes, I do.’

‘You once told me I don’t put much value on myself. I could accuse you of the same.’

‘How’s that?’ A muscle pulsed in his jaw.

‘It’s not your fault you survived, Achilles. It was sheer luck and fortune. You could have just as easily died that day.’

The thought made her go cold inside.

‘I know that.’

She felt the tension in his body. ‘Do you?’

Being welded to his body like this was torture. Exquisite torture. Surrounded by people, yet cocooned in their own embrace. Sofie knew that she had to tell him now. Before she lost her nerve.

‘Achilles...’

He looked down again, face stark. ‘More pearls of wisdom?’

Sofie took a breath and quelled the tremor in her legs as best she could. ‘There’s something I need to tell you. It’s not directly related to the catamaran race, but it might make you think differently about it. Actually, it might make you think differently about...a lot more than that.’

He stopped moving. ‘What is it?’

Sofie swallowed. Opened her mouth. ‘I’m pregnant.’