Kissing her as she had never thought it possible for a kiss to be!
And she was melting into it, drowning in it, this the softest, most sensuous sensation in the entire universe, this the exquisite honeyed feathering of his mouth on hers.
It seemed to go on and on, and she was weak with it, faint with it...
And she wanted more...oh, so much more...
A low, helpless moan sounded in her throat, and as if with an instinct of their own her hands reached around him to draw his body to hers, to feel the hard, strong column of his back beneath her fingers—
At her touch he pulled away from her in sharp withdrawal, his mouth releasing hers abruptly, his hand moving away from the door.
Her eyes flew open.
He was looking down at her with an expression that was closed—shuttered, even—and she gazed at him in a helpless haze, lips still parted...
She saw him take a breath. A ragged inhalation. Saw him take a step backwards.
He shook his head. ‘This was a mistake,’ he said.
There was a blankness in his voice, and he took another breath, deeper than the first, his expression changing again.
‘It’s late. You should get some sleep. I must go.’ He reached past her to push her door open wider. ‘Go in, Rosalie,’ he said. His voice was firm and his mouth tightened. ‘You need to get to bed. We have to be with the registrar by eleven.’
She felt his hand on the small of her back. Broad and impersonal. Turning her towards her room.
She caught the edge of the door, instinctively resisting. Trying to turn back to him.
‘I...’
The pulse at her throat was throbbing, and there was a flush of heat across her cheeks. Her lips were still parted. Still yearning for his...
And as her eyes lifted to his she knew yearning filled them. A yearning she could not crush, or halt, or do anything about. For t
he blood was still beating in her veins, blinding her to everything but the kiss they had shared.
‘No.’
There was harshness in his voice. Rejection.
‘Rosalie—goodnight!’
He turned away, and then he was striding down the hushed and deserted corridor, his gait rapid, gaining the end in moments, turning towards the elevator, lost to her sight.
She felt emptiness, desolation, as she went into her room. He had kissed her in a way she had never known a kiss could be. A kiss to melt her to her very core. And then he had set her aside.
His rejection echoed in her head.
‘This was a mistake.’
A cry broke from her.
* * *
Xandros stood out on his apartment’s balcony, staring at the floodlit Acropolis, not seeing it. He was hearing his own words echo in his head.
‘This was a mistake.’
His hands tightened over the railing. Thee mou, one hell of a mistake! It had taken all his strength to push her inside—keeping himself on the outside—and to turn and walk away, with every step wanting to turn around and stride back to her, to step inside her room and—