Then, as the rush consumed him, he realised that he was going too fast—much too fast. Too fast for him—and certainly too fast for her.
His eyes focussed on hers.
She was standing, backed against the balustrade, still close enough for him to reach and pull her to him, but he did not. The expression in her eyes stopped him.
They were shocked, staring.
For a moment exultation speared him. She felt the same way he did! As if a revelation had suddenly made her see the world in a completely different way. Then, with a sobering recognition, he realised that her reaction to what had just happened was more complex than his.
More fearful.
'Andrea,' he said softly, 'don't be alarmed. I'm sorry—I'm rushing things too much.' A wry smile tugged at his mouth as she stared at him, half of her mind drinking in the male beauty of his face, the other still too shocked to take in anything at all. 'You must blame your beauty,' he told her. 'It is too lovely to resist.'
She shivered. He fancied her, and so, on the briefest acquaintance imaginable, he had pounced on her?
'Don't look at me like that,' he said ruefully. 'I will not touch you again until you want me to. But you must not blame me—' the tug of wry humour came again to his well-shaped mouth in a way that did strange things to her insides '—if I try very hard to make you want me to touch you again...'
He stepped back a pace, giving her more space.
'Come,' he said and his breath was more ragged than he preferred, 'take my hand, if nothing else, and let us talk a while. We have, after all, much to talk about.'
He took her hand, and she let its cool strength curl around her fingers and draw her away from the balustrade. They began to head down towards the far end of the terrace at a leisurely pace. The night air fanned Andrea's heated face and gave her a moment's breathing space.
But her mind was racing as fast as her heart!
What was she doing out here on a starlit terrace with a man who took her breath away, who had casually kissed her as she had never been kissed in her life?
A man she didn't even know.
But who had promised to make her want him touch her again...
What was it he had said? she wondered. "We have, after all, much to talk about.”
Puzzlement suffused her. Was that some kind of Greek pickup line? Or was he simply trying to take the pressure off her and make polite chit-chat again?
She looked up at nim as they walked.
'Why have we got so much to talk about?' she asked. Her voice was still husky, even though she did not mean it to be. It was also puzzled.
He glanced down at her. His lashes were extraordinarily long, she found herself thinking irrelevantly. It made her completely miss what he said in answer.
Except for one word.
She stopped in her tracks.
'Say that again,' she said. Her breathing seemed to have stopped.
Nikos smiled down again at her, his eyes warm.
'I said, my sweet bride-to-be, that perhaps we should start by talking about our wedding.'
Andrea's breathing stopped totally.
CHAPTER FIVE
It was as if, in front of his eyes, she had changed. Like some alien shape-shifting from a harmless creature into some terrifying monster.
She thrust her hand from him, backing away, freezing as she did so.