"It will solve my problems. I will be able to take you to my bed again. I will no longer spend my nights aching with a need I have no right to sate."
"You haven't even kissed me since coming back to Greece." And it had worried her.
What kind of courtship included not close physical contact? The kind where a man was trying to convince a woman he didn't really want to marry him, that's what kind.
She realized she'd said the words aloud when a furious Greek curse assaulted her ears. "You think I do not want you?"
Then he went off in a barrage of Greek, none of which made any sense to her. She spoke very little of the language and none of the words he was saying.
"Did I not show you in California how much I still wanted you? I put your health at risk because I could not keep my hands from your body, my lips from your mouth."
"Well, I'm fine now and you're doing an admirable job of keeping them to yourself."
"I did not wish to dishonor you again before marriage."
"A simple kiss is hardly going to dishonor me," she said sarcastically.
Really, he'd have to come up with something better than that to convince her he was interested in her as a woman.
“The lovemaking that would inevitably follow any kiss between the two of us would."
"A kiss doesn't have to end in sex."
"It does when a man wants a woman as much as I want you."
"Are you saying you physically desire me, but you won't take me again until we're married?"
That was ridiculous. He hadn't minded making love to her before when they weren't married and he'd made sure she knew he was making no promises of commitment either.
"Take you, yineka mou? You have a very primitive view of our lovemaking."
Her feelings for him were primitive. Primal even. And they went too deep for her to ever extricate them from her being.
"You know what I mean."
"I believe I do and you are correct. The next time our bodies join, you will be my wife in name as well as spirit."
"What do you mean as well as spirit? I'm not your wife now. You had me without commitment the first time and you made sure I knew it."
"I had decided to marry you by the time I was inside you."
He couldn't be serious.
"That's not what you said the next morning."
"I went crazy the next morning. I drew conclusions. I said things that should not have been said, but none of it changes the fact I married you in my heart when I made your body one with mine."
If he spoke the truth and he had no reason to lie, he'd made a huge commitment to her that night. She hadn't asked him for one, but the depth of his reaction to their lovemaking explained the strength of his response to his own twisted logic the following morning. He'd been as gutted by his conclusions as she had been.
"How much longer will you be in Athens?" she asked, incapable of responding to his claims, but moved by them all the same.
He sighed. "I do not know."
Her heart sank. "Oh."
"You sound disappointed."
"I am."
A pregnant silence greeted her honesty.
"It doesn't mat—"
He didn't let her finish the lie. "You could come to the apartment."
The invitation shocked her, even though it shouldn't have.
"Of course you would not wish to come," he said before she could even open her mouth to speak. "What am I thinking?"
"You're wrong," she slotted in before he could go off on another one of his negative assumption scenarios.
"You wish to come?" he asked, sounding more shocked than she'd felt at the invitation.
No amount of time on her own was going to shore up her defenses against him and it hurt to be away from him.
Taking a deep breath, she let it out in a whoosh and then said, "Yes."
"The helicopter will arrive in the morning."
"I'll be ready."
She was, even though the helicopter arrived shortly after daybreak. Nerves made the flight to Athens seem short and the pilot was landing all too soon on the roof of the Kouros Industries building.
Sebastian was there, helping her climb out of the helicopter. He pulled her away from the still rotating blades, keeping her body close to his own and tucked down in a protective way. Once they were clear, he stopped.
His mouth covered hers before she could say anything and his lips tasted so good, she didn't want to.
Strong arms closed around her, pressing her into the already aroused contours of his hard male body and he kissed her with soul searing intensity.
Her lips clung to his as he pulled away and she melted against him with the first sense of tightness she'd had in months. Tipping her head back, she looked at him, drinking in his appearance with thirsty eyes.
His were bloodshot, but fixed on her with intensity that belied their tiredness. "You came."
"I said I would," she reminded him breathlessly, her lips still tingling from his kisses.
"So you did."
"Your helicopter came early."
"I hoped you would be ready."
"I was."
The conversation was inane, but the undercurrents were explosive. What neither said, but both felt as exhibited by their actions was a desperate need to be together as soon as possible.
"Are you also ready to marry me?"
She swallowed. "You go right for the jugular."
He shook his head. "It should be smooth, romantic, but I am not feeling smooth. I need you to say you know you are mine."
She could see that he did and to deny him was to deny herself.
Not strong enough to deny them both, she said, "Yes."
The kiss that followed her acquiescence completely overwhelmed her so that she was not aware of being picked up and only became conscious of her surroundings when a shocked gasp accompanied her and Sebastian's exit from the elevator he had carried her to. He lifted his head as her eyes opened and she got the distinct impression from the chagrined expression on his face that it was a wholly new experience for him to be caught necking in the elevator by one of his employees.
The gasp had come from an older woman manning the desk in the lobby. She stared at the president of her company as if he'd grown two heads and started talking in Swahili.
His jaw taut, Sebastian nodded to the receptionist and carried Rachel right out of the building to a waiting limousine.
They were inside, her sitting on his lap, a very noticeable bump under her hip, when he spoke again. "When will you marry me?"
"As soon as you like."
"Do you want a big wedding?"
She smiled her approval at his desire to know her desires and not just assume they matched his own. "No."
"Do you want to be married on the island?"
&nb
sp; "It doesn't matter."
She'd long ago learned that the trappings of life did not make a bit of difference to the underlying circumstances. She'd never dreamed of a princess style wedding, she'd only ever hoped she got to marry the prince.
And she was going to.
Sometimes he acted like a frog, but that wasn't so bad. At least he knew how to apologize and he listened. It might take her screaming into his face, but he could be persuaded to look at an alternative perspective. After all, he'd canceled his planned wedding and agreed to a courtship because she'd wanted it. His flexibility gave her hope for the future.
That flexibility was not much in evidence when Rachel said she wanted Phillippa at the wedding and Sebastian told her his mother was traveling and would not be back in Greece for a week.