Bought Greek's Bride

He seemed to understand and did not try to cajole her into relaxing. He curled his big, warm body around her stiff one, wrapping his arms around her and spoke soft, soothing things into her ear until she grew drowsy. Bit by bit, her body gentled into his until she fell into a more restful sleep than she’d had since the last time he shared her bed.

She awoke sometime later to the sensation of someone gently brushing her cheek. Her senses told her it was Sandor before mind even became fully aware.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“WAKE UP,agape mou. We will be there soon.”

Her eyes fluttered open to a vision of him dressed and sitting beside her on the bed.

“I slept the whole flight?” she asked disbelievingly.

“You needed your rest.”

She’d needed her rest the night before, too, but she’d tossed and turned until giving up on sleep and had gotten up before dawn to work on client files. “So you said.”

“I was right.”

“You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”

“What man does not like to be right?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know one.” It was all she could do not to snuggle into his hand. “I can’t believe I slept so well.”

“It was being held in my arms. I confess I, too, slept better than I have in weeks.”

She scooted into a sitting position, holding the sheet against her chest. “Yes, well…we’ll have to get matching teddy bears or something.”

“Or something.”

She wasn’t touching that. “How long until we land?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“Oh.” She looked around the well lit, utilitarian cabin. Thank goodness there was a door to the small bathroom from the sleeping area. “I need to freshen up.”

“You look very good to me, but I can understand you might think the just-been-loved look is better saved for our times of privacy together.”

“I haven’t been loved.”

“Are you sure about that?”

What was he saying? That he loved her? No. He didn’t believe in the emotion, but could he have changed his mind? Her dad had changed and she thought that was impossible. Had Sandor had some kind of emotional breakthrough? But if he had, surely he would have said something. Not made some oblique reference and expect her to get it.

She swallowed questions she wasn’t sure she wanted answers to in her current emotional state and stared at him. “I mean we didn’t have sex.”

“That I concede. It comes later, I think.”

“No,” she breathed, more for form than vehemence.

He leaned forward until his mouth was a bare centimeter from hers. “Are you sure that is the word you will be saying?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but whatever she would have said remained locked in her throat because he kissed her. His mouth totally claimed hers, his lips molding to hers and his tongue sweeping her interior. Any protest she would have made died before she even breathed it and she kissed him back until she was panting and his hands were clenched in fists on either side of her hips.

“We will revisit this discussion later,” he said and then stood up just as if he hadn’t kissed her to within an inch of her life and made implications that were soul-shattering. He tapped the end of her nose. “Get ready, Elliemou . I will see how your father is holding up.” Then he was gone.

Dazed, she climbed out of the bed and made a quick trip to the bathroom to brush her hair and other things before getting dressed again. Sandor had been right. She’d slept much better without her clothes and they were certainly fresher looking than they would have been if she’d worn them to bed.

The drive from the small municipal airport to Helen Taylor’s home was less than an hour, but the tension inside the limousine was palpable by the time it pulled up in front of her modest ranch style home.

Ellie put her hand on her father’s arm. “Are you going to be all right?”

His smile was reassuringly warm, so different than the way he used to look at her. “Yes, but what about you?”

“I’m scared,” she admitted, surprising herself.

But then, maybe she was changing, too. Knowing you were loved changed the way you reacted to another person, she found.

He laid his hand over hers. “It is all going to be fine. Trust me, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want Amber hurt.” Or her dad. Or herself. Or Helen Taylor, for that matter. Yet, she didn’t see how at least some emotional bloodshed could be avoided.

“Neither do I. We’re going to handle this the best we can and trust for the outcome.”