The Secret Kept from the Greek

‘Why don’t you take a look?’ she suggested.

She’d been starved for too long, Lizzie realised, as Damon continued to move deep inside her and she continued to bask in oblivion, where sensation ruled—or was that to hide?—

Again? Really? Was again even possible?

It was, she discovered, wailing as she fell.

This time it was so intense, and lasted so long, she might even have lost consciousness for a few moments. When she came round it was to find Damon still moving steadily and deeply, his big, slightly roughened hands locked firmly as he kept her in position for each firm thrust.

‘Don’t do anything,’ he commanded in a low, husky tone. ‘Don’t move at all. Relax every muscle and let me do all the work.’

She did as he asked and was rewarded with pleasure. Clearly seeing it in her eyes, Damon smiled fiercely against her mouth, and as he kissed her he rotated his hips, keeping them tightly locked together, and she fell again.

‘What about you?’ she asked when she was finally able to speak.

Pulling out completely, Damon thrust deeply again, with a groan of satisfaction, and a few firm, fast strokes later he brought them both over the edge.

‘Bed?’ Lizzie suggested as he cupped her face in his hands.

‘Lightweight,’ Damon whispered against her mouth.

‘You’re insatiable.’

‘And you seem pleased about that,’ he commented.

‘I am,’ she admitted.

‘You’re the same,’ he insisted. ‘You just don’t know it yet.’

‘Then why don’t you prove it to me?’

Swinging her into his arms, he carried her across the room and into his bathroom, which was the most opulent haven of luxury she’d ever seen. Black marble covered the walls and floor, and there was elegant furniture. High-end products in industrial-sized crystal jars were just begging to be used. And there were mirrors everywhere.

The sight of herself in Damon’s arms, both of them naked and intimately entwined, was the most arousing thing that Lizzie had ever seen.

‘That insatiable thing...’ Damon murmured as he steadied her on the warm marble floor.

‘What about it?’ Lifting her chin, she blazed a challenge into his eyes.

‘It’s time I proved it to you...’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THIS WAS NOT like Lizzie’s shower in London. No chance of a lukewarm dribble trickling out of a rusty showerhead. Damon’s shower was a powerful blast of water at the perfect temperature, and it was instantly warm.

‘Billionaire’s perks?’ Lizzie suggested as she turned her face towards the refreshing stream.

Taking the exclusive shower gel out of her hands, Damon washed her all over with long and increasingly intimate strokes. And then he trained the showerhead where she was most sensitive, skilfully massaging her with tiny, tantalising blunt-edged needles that took her arousal to new heights.

‘Hands flat against the wall,’ he instructed.

How could her body be so sensitive? The warm water had made her nerve-endings super-responsive, Lizzie supposed as Damon trained the water over her back and her buttocks.

Resting her head against the wall, she groaned with pleasure as he nudged her legs apart to direct the pounding water so skilfully she found yet another way to lose control. He caught her as her legs buckled beneath her, but even that wasn’t enough for him. Resting her leg high on his thigh, he thrust into her, working steadily to bring her to the edge again.

‘I can’t...’ she protested, shaking her head, certain this was true.

‘Yes, you can,’ he insisted softly—and he proved it beyond doubt.

After the shower he swaddled her in warm, fluffy towels and carried her back to bed. ‘Sleep now,’ he said.

‘Sleep?’ she complained softly, staring into his eyes.

‘I have work to do,’ Damon told her, pulling away.

And then, just like eleven years before, he was gone.

* * *

How had she ever managed to sleep? Lizzie wondered as she woke to find sunlight blazing into the room. Damon’s bedroom. She turned over in bed. The other side was empty. The pillow was smooth. She’d slept through the night. But where was Damon?

As the events of the previous night came flooding back she sat up and realised that she’d had her first untroubled night’s sleep without nightmares in ages. There had been no ghoulish return to a hushed courtroom full of haunted faces. She must have been totally exhausted to sleep like that. Having glutted herself on Damon, that was hardly a surprise. But now she sat up to listen she thought the house was empty.

She was just a temporary visitor who had outstayed her welcome, Lizzie thought, feeling awkward as she swung herself out of the bed. They were supposed to be telling Thea today—that was what they’d decided in the dark hours of the night. Had Damon gone on ahead of her?

No! Thea must hear it from her mother, Lizzie thought as she rushed to take a shower.

As she stood beneath the water that had felt so soothing only hours before her mind filled with terrifying images. They included Damon taking Thea away on his powerboat, or in his helicopter, or his jet—how would she ever find them again when he had homes all over the world? She’d made a very poor job of finding Damon over the past eleven years, so he would easily stay ahead of her now.

Grabbing a towel, she closed her eyes and accepted that her fears had no base in reality. All she had to do was get herself back to the restaurant somehow, so she could change her clothes, and then call Thea to arrange to meet her at the school, where Lizzie would explain everything.

Plan made, she prepared for the most vital explanation of her life.

* * *

Thea came powering towards Lizzie through the gates of the island’s school. Throwing herself into her mother’s arms, she exclaimed, ‘You’re wearing the blue dress today!’ Thea’s smile was sunny, but her sharp gaze missed nothing. ‘You never wear dresses unless it’s for a special occasion.’

Lizzie cheeks burned red with guilt beneath Thea’s scrutiny. ‘I put the dress on for you. I went back to the restaurant specially—’

‘You went back? From where?’ Thea queried, fully in sleuth mode now. ‘Where were you before the restaurant?’

‘None of your business.’

Lizzie laughed. In spite of her tension, Thea’s suspicious expression could always crack her up.

Thea narrowed her eyes. ‘You were with him, weren’t you?’

If only life was as simple as making a choice between a blue dress and a yellow dress, Lizzie thought, feeling a flutter of nerves now the moment had come to tell Thea the truth about her father.

‘I love both dresses equally. You’ve got excellent taste.’

‘That’s not the question I asked you. What I want to know is, how did you get on with Damon?’

‘Thea!’ Lizzie tried and failed to be stern. ‘As far as I can tell, he’s a very nice man.’

‘A “very nice man”?’ Thea pulled a face.

‘He’s a good man,’ Lizzie conceded carefully. She had to begin somewhere, but she could hardly pretend that she and Damon were bosom buddies right now.

‘And...?’ Thea pressed. ‘Will you see him again soon?’

‘I think it will be hard to avoid him on the island,’ Lizzie said, speaking her thoughts out loud. ‘But we should see him together next time—’

‘No!’ Thea cut in with disapproval. ‘How is your romance going to flourish with me there? You have to see him on your own.’

‘I thought you liked him?’

‘I do—but only if he makes you happy.’

‘He enjoyed hearing you play,’ Lizzie said, to break the sudden tension.

‘He can come t

o a concert and hear the entire orchestra play,’ Thea dismissed, clearly eager to move on the subject at the top of her agenda. ‘It’s you I’m worried about, not him.’

Lizzie’s sinking feeling increased. ‘We really need to talk about this.’

‘Why?’ Thea demanded.

‘Because—’

Lizzie could see that Thea wasn’t interested. Thea might be a musical prodigy, but she could be as difficult as any other ten-year-old child, and right now Thea’s ears were closed to reason.

Lizzie still had to try. ‘Because there’s something I should have told you a long time ago. Why don’t we sit in the shade and chat as we wait for the bus?’