His long lashes swept down over his eyes. ‘Kallistris,’ he said huskily, ‘was far too long ago...’
His kiss was slow and sensual and melted the very bones of her. With a low laugh of triumph he surfaced, effortlessly scooping her up into his arms and carrying her through into his bedroom to lower her down upon the bed, coming down beside her.
His hand smoothed her hair from her forehead. ‘Have I told you recently how very, very beautiful you are, Kyria Lakaris?’
The husk in his voice was deeper...the gold glints in his eyes more molten.
‘Not recently,’ she said, and sighed in warm anticipation. Gladness was filling her, arousal was beckoning, and there was another emotion, too. Relief.
He still wants me.
Had that been her fear, these last weeks? Had she thought that Xandros was turning into a workaholic not just because he had to run a multi-million-pound business doing whatever it was that he did and overseeing a complex and demanding merger as well? Had she not wanted to admit that she feared his attraction to her had palled?
But now, as his mouth began to glide down her throat, his fingers deftly slipping open the buttons of her shirt, of his shirt as well, his thighs moving across hers so that she felt their strength, she knew, with another sigh of pleasurable arousal, just how very keen he was to get her naked. And, beneath him, she could cast all those fears aside and glory in what came next.
A burning fusion that made her cry out again, and again as his body took her to an ecstasy that had not been hers since their last night on Kallistris.
She clung to him, shuddering in the aftermath, feeling his heart hammering as fiercely as her own, knowing his limbs were exhausted, the bedclothes in a tangled turmoil.
He pulled her tight against him. ‘I must have been mad to work so hard,’ he breathed. He levered himself up on his elbow. ‘I’m going to take a break—for the whole weekend!’ He dropped a slow kiss on her mouth. ‘But tonight—tonight, Kyria Lakaris—I want you to put on the gladdest of your glad rags and make me the envy of all Athens!’
The envy of all Athens? Into her head came the jibing words her father had thrown at her when she’d defied him. It was she who was supposed to be the envy of all Athens...
And later, as they joined Xandros’s friends in the salon privé at the exclusive restaurant where they were gathering, she could see that the jibe had held some truth in it. His friends were welcoming, though she found herself feeling shy, hanging on to Xandros’s supporting arm, and they were happy to talk to her in English, though most of their lively conversation was conducted, understandably in Greek, but two of the most elegant women there made a beeline for her.
‘We are in mourning!’ they teased her. ‘Xandros has been captured at last!’
‘We all wanted to marry him—but he evaded us!’ The nearest woman’s dark eyes gleamed. ‘So what is your secret?’
The other woman gave a laugh. ‘The same as Ariadne’s!’ she exclaimed.
She seemed about to say more, but Xandros had turned away from the man whose birthday it was to drape an arm around Rosalie’s shoulder.
‘Come and meet the birthday boy,’ he said, drawing her away. ‘I want to see the envy in his eyes!’
His friend certainly showed his admiration, and Rosalie could not help but be glad she had made such an effort tonight, knowing that in such company she must do Xandros justice. Her newly purchased cocktail dress, in hues of peacock and royal blue, was, she knew, stunning in its design.
‘Don’t leave me alone with your wife for a second, old friend,’ the birthday boy teased openly, ‘or I will steal her away from you! She is ravishing!’
She smiled, knowing it for the laddish joshing that it was, but was glad of Xandros’s possessive arm around her.
They took their seats for dinner at a long, formally set table laden with silverware and crystal glasses. Conversation reverted to Greek, and became very lively and good-humoured, with Xandros clearly a key player.
Part of Rosalie warmed to see him relaxed and convivial—and yet part of her ached, too, and she did not know why. And although his arm was draped around her shoulder, showing the world they were an item, she felt a distance from him.
I’m just passing through his life...and he through mine. By winter all this will be over. I’ll be back in London. He’ll be part of my past—nothing more than that...
She felt her throat tighten, felt memory burn. She remembered how their bodies had clung to each other in throbbing passion just a few brief hours ago...how close they’d seemed. As if nothing could part them. But time would do just that—part them in a matter of months. Just as they’d planned from the outset.
Her throat tightened again, and she felt that strange melancholy assail her as it had in his apartment, before they had married.
On Kallistris it had vanished.
Now she felt it again. More poignant.
* * *
Xandros sat back in his chair at the desk in his office and frowned. Some critical financial documentation that Stavros Coustakis should have made available to him by now had still not been sent over.