Captivated by the Greek
And now here she was, gazing up at a man who was the most achingly seductive man she’d ever encountered, wanting only to feel his mouth on hers, his arms around her.
As if he heard her body call to him he bent his head to catch her lips, and his mouth was as soft as velvet. As sensuous as silk.
Dissolving her completely.
She moved against him and felt her breasts crushed against his torso, that strong wall of steely muscle. Her other hand lost its grip on her evening bag. It fell to the ground, letting her freed hand do what it so wanted to do—to slide beneath the fall of his tuxedo jacket, her fingers gliding around his back, strong and smooth and so, so warm to her touch.
Her eyes fluttered shut as she gave herself to a slow, velvet kiss that seemed to lift her right off her feet, that absorbed every part of her consciousness. Gave herself to the sensuous caress of his lips on hers. Assured, expert, arousing...he knew exactly how to glide and tease and coax her lips to part for his, to deepen the kiss with skilled touch until he had everything of her he sought.
How long he kissed her for she didn’t know. She knew only that her fingers were pressing into his back, holding him fast against her, and that her hand, still crushed in his, was being held in the valley of her breasts, whose peaks were taut against his chest and beneath whose surface her heart was beating like a soaring bird.
His mouth let hers go and he was looking down at her—at her parted lips, her dazed eyes, her heated cheeks. His face was unreadable, but there was a shadow somewhere deep in the dark pools of his eyes... There were words he wanted to speak—but he kept silent...
How long she stood there, just gazing at him, overwhelmed by his kiss, she couldn’t tell. Something ran between them. She could not quite tell what, but she would not let herself read that wordless message. Would only, with a breathy little catch in her throat, step back from him, separating their bodies.
Then, with a jerky movement, she bent her knees and scooped up her evening bag, made her fingers open the clasp, extract her keys. She focussed on movement, focussed on stepping towards the door, unlocking it, opening it. When she was half inside, she turned.
He hadn’t moved. He was still standing there, watching her. Behind him, his car purred silently at the kerb. It would take him back to his world and she would never see him again.
There was a sensation of tightness in her chest suddenly, as if breathing were impossible. Her eyes rested on his outline one last time.
‘Goodbye, Nikos,’ she heard her own voice say, softly now. Then she turned away, heading towards the back room.
The evening was over now. Quite over.
Outside on the bare pavement Nikos went on standing for a while, motionless. Then, with a sudden jerky movement of his body, he turned on his heel and got back into the car.
It moved off along the deserted road.
In his head, that wordless message hung.
It was a message he did not want to hear—never wanted to hear. Had spent his life blocking out.
A message that challenged all the precepts by which he lived his life.
CHAPTER FIVE
WITH A YAWN, Mel set the tap running to fill the hot water urn and started her routine preparations for opening up the sandwich bar. But her thoughts were a million miles away, remembering everything about the evening before. It filled her head as if she were there again, reliving it all. Reliving, most of all, that melting goodnight kiss from Nikos...
For a moment—just a moment—she experienced again that sense of questioning wonder she’d felt as they’d gazed into each other’s eyes. Then, with an impatient shake of her head, she shook it from her. For three long years she’d had no romance in her life at all—no wonder she was feeling overwhelmed, having been kissed by an expert kisser like Nikos Parakis!
Her mouth gave a wry little twist. He’d have acquired that expertise by kissing scores of females in his time. Kissing, romancing and moving on. Keeping his romances simple—transient. Avoiding serious relationships.
Well, she could sympathise. Right now, with freedom beckoning, that was the way she saw things, too—no commitments, no complications. Just enjoying light-hearted, fun-time romance if it came her way...
She made a face as she set croissants to warm. Well, it wasn’t going to come her way courtesy of Nikos Parakis—that was for sure. He’d kissed her goodnight and headed back to his own life. He hadn’t wanted anything more of her than that single evening.
She paused in the act of reaching for a packet of butter from the fridge.
What if he had? What if he’d asked for more?
Like feathers sifting through her mind, she felt again that moment when he’d finished kissing her—when they’d parted but had still simply been looking at each other, their eyes meeting. A message had passed between them...