The Kiss She Claimed From The Greek
She gasped, ‘Someone will see us.’
He took the glass out of her hand and put it down. Then he pushed the robe off her shoulders completely and it fell to the ground, baring her. She was exquisite. And already the heat of desire was burning away the past.
She covered her breasts with her arms and Achilles gently pulled her arms away. ‘No one can see. Trust me.’
Sofie glanced around, but he already knew there were no high-rise buildings around them. She looked at him, and for a moment the way she looked at him so trustingly almost undid all his recent rationale. Almost. But he was stronger than that.
He traced his hands down her arms and saw how her nipples pebbled into hard points. He led her over to a chair and sat her down. He went down onto his knees in front of her and pushed her thighs apart, baring her to his gaze.
His erection strained at his jeans but he ignored it, set to showing Sofie all he was interested in. Pleasure. Nothing but pleasure.
‘Okay, Sofie, you can turn around now.’
Sofie turned and looked at the reflection in the mirror and stopped breathing. She looked...she looked so different. And yet the same.
She was wearing a long black dress with a black mesh panel between her breasts. There was a diamanté detail down the edging of the front of the dress and under her chest, framing her waist. It fell in loose flowing folds to the floor, chiffon overlaying silk. She could see a tantalising glimpse of her cleavage through the mesh at the front of the dress.
It was sexy, and modern, and had a rock and roll edge that she never in a million years would have considered might suit her. Black patent heels with distinctive red soles were on her feet, adding a couple of much-needed inches to her height.
Her hair had been trimmed by a few inches. A lot of the heaviness had been taken out, so now it feathered over her shoulders in a wavy, choppy style. But it was the make-up that really made her look a little closer. Her eyes looked huge, framed by dramatic kohl, dark eyeshadow and lots of mascara. And her mouth was very red. Had her lips always been so...full? And her waist so small?
Sofie had always been aware of men’s interest in her, and she’d put it down to the curves that were out of proportion with her frame. She knew she was no great beauty. But now, for the first time, she had a sense that Achilles saw something in her that she’d never had the confidence to acknowledge herself.
Ridiculously, she felt emotion rising and swallowed it down, conscious of the stylist and the hair and make-up people who had appeared in the apartment just a couple of hours ago, after she’d spent a morning in the hotel spa, being massaged and generally primped and plucked in places that had never been primped and plucked before.
She hadn’t seen Achilles all day. He’d been gone that morning, leaving a note detailing the spa appointments, and telling her that he would see her this evening and that they had a ‘small function’ to attend.
If this dress was evidence, his idea of a ‘small function’ was something that required full evening dress.
A woman appeared in the door. She’d been in the kitchen that morning and had introduced herself as Elena, Achilles’s housekeeper. Elena caught Sofie’s eye now and said, ‘Mr Lykaios is running late. The driver will take you to the venue and he will meet you there.’
Immediately Sofie felt panicked, but the woman disappeared before she could ask what she should do if she couldn’t find him, or if she would even be admitted if she was on her own. In a foreign city. Where she didn’t speak the language.
The stylist touched her arm. ‘You look stunning. Mr Lykaios will be there to meet you, I’m sure.’
Sofie smiled gratefully. ‘Is it that obvious I’m not used to this?’
The woman smiled, but it was a little awkward, and Sofie felt a dull flush rising when she realised that probably this woman had come here before, to dress Achilles’s other lovers.
Good, she told herself stoutly. She needed reminders like this so she didn’t get completely lost in the fantasy.
The stylist became businesslike. ‘I’ve left the rest of your clothes in the dressing room. We were instructed that you needed to have a range of casual daywear and evening clothes. If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to call. Here is the jewellery for this evening, and your bag.’
She pointed to a pair of diamond earrings, a chunky diamond bracelet and a black clutch bag.
Sofie touched them reverently, and then something occurred to her and she pulled her hand back as if burned. ‘They’re real, aren’t they?’
‘Of course.’ The stylist almost sounded insulted.
‘I can’t wear these—what if I lose an earring?’
‘Don’t be silly. You must accessorise, and if you don’t wear precious stones, everyone will notice. And,’ the stylist added with a flourish, ‘you’ll need to wear this.’
Sofie took the mask handed to her. It was black, with tiny diamond detail around the edges, and an elastic band to hold it to her head. ‘What’s this for?’
‘It’s a masquerade ball.’
Sofie’s levels of anxiety shot up another few notches at the words masquerade and ball.
The stylist and her team left and Sofie, after a moment’s hesitation, put on the jewellery. The earrings felt heavy and the bracelet even heavier.
At that moment Elena appeared again. ‘The driver is waiting outside when you’re ready, Miss MacKenzie.’
‘Please, call me Sofie,’ she said, before the woman disappeared again. Being constantly called Miss MacKenzie wasn’t helping her feel any more grounded.
Sofie took a deep breath and picked up the mask and the clutch bag. She wasn’t near ready, but she didn’t think she would ever feel ready for this world. She just had to enjoy the moment and try not to feel too intimidated.