'Luke,' she said again, trembling, and his mouth moved hotly over her brow, her cheek and finally down to claim her lips. He lifted her and laid her on the bed as gently as if she was made of glass, and, shrugging out of his clothes, lay down beside her.
His fingers stroked her breast, and a soft cry of pleasure broke from her. His head bent and his mouth took hers again, while his hands moved gently and unhurriedly over her naked flesh. Jemma reached for him, her hands shaping his shoulders and down the strong line of his back as passion flared deep inside her.
'Jemma, my darling,' he murmured against her flesh as he caressed her with growing urgency. Her nails dug suddenly into his back and she heard his guttural groan as he finally possessed her.
It was like nothing that had gone before—a true melding of body and mind, the rhythm of love gentle, growing in ever-building waves of passion to explode in a climax of absolute unity where all sense of self was lost in the wonder and glory of being one.
Afterwards Luke held her in the curve of his shoulder, kissing her hair, his hand slowly stroking over her stomach, and said teasingly, 'Well, at least Theo will be pleased; his great-grandchild will get his old house.'
'What?' She glanced up at him and saw the laughter in his luminous eyes. 'You mean you weren't pleased?'
'"Pleased"' doesn't begin to describe the depths of my love for you. I love you more than I can say, Jemma.'
'Then show me again.' She grinned, and he did.
EPILOGUE
It was September, with the sun blazing out of a clear blue sky and the sound of childish laughter echoing in the heavy air. Jemma leant over the balcony of their bedroom, smiling to herself as she watched Theo, Milo and her son Alex splashing about in the pool below.
All those months ago, alone and pregnant, she could never have imagined such happiness.
'Jemma, it's after nine. Maria's packed an overnight bag for you; all you have to do is get ready.' Luke came up behind her and slipped an arm around her waist. 'This is our second wedding anniversary, remember, and we have to get going.'
She cast him a droll look. 'You've reminded me it's our wedding anniversary at least three times since midnight.'
Luke smiled down at her, a reminiscent gleam in his silver eyes. 'Yes, and I will again—I promise,' he chuckled. 'But not right now; the helicopter's on its way and I want to get there before nightfall. I have a surprise for you.'
'Are you sure Alex will be okay on his own?'
'On his own!' Luke arched an eyebrow at her. 'You are joking; with a staff of six who dote on him, and Theo and Milo totally besotted with him, our son will not have a second to call his own.'
'Yes, you're right,' she said, turning in his arms and planting a swift kiss on his chin. 'I'll go and shower.' She saw the flash of interest in his grey gaze. 'On my own.'
She laughed and spun out of his arms. 'We're in a hurry, remember?'
Jemma was still smiling when she turned on the shower. The last fourteen months had been sheer bliss. They divided their time between this fabulous house outside Athens and Wisteria Cottage in England, with occasional visits to the holiday home on Zante. Their son Alex had been born at Wisteria Cottage with the help of a farmer's wife—much to Luke's dismay. He had arranged for a top London hospital, but baby Alex had not wanted to wait. He'd come into the world the day before their first wedding anniversary, the image of his father, with a mass of black hair, crying lustily.
Turning off the shower, Jemma dried herself and dressed casually, as Luke had instructed, in white cotton trousers and a navy and white Donna Karan shirt. Yesterday the house had been full of friends and neighbours with their children, for Alex's first birthday party, and amid all the excitement he had actually taken his first few steps.
'Damn it, Jemma, come on—the helicopter is waiting.' Luke appeared at the bedroom door, wearing tailored Bermuda shorts and a polo shirt. He looked gorgeous and vibrant and Jemma couldn't have wished for a more devoted and sexy husband. Even if he did get a bit impatient at times.
An hour later, after a protracted goodbye to Alex, they headed for the helicopter parked in the grounds. Luke was muttering darkly, 'We're only going away for one night, for heaven's sake.' Jemma smiled to herself; he had spent as much time hugging and kissing Alex goodbye as she had.
Jemma was surprised when the helicopter landed and they stepped out onto the roof of the hotel on Zante where they had spent their wedding night. She glanced quizzically up at Luke as he took her hand in his and led her down into the hotel. It was a nice thought, but not a very original surprise. They dined here frequently when they stayed at the house in the bay.
'I know what you're thinking.' Luke looped an arm around her shoulders and held her close. 'But this is not the surprise—simply the safest and nearest place to land.'
'So where are we going?'
'Patience, woman.'
But her patience was wearing very thin after a short car ride which deposited them at the steps that led down to their very own holiday home.
Luke stopped at the base of the steps and grinned, his grey eyes gleaming with wicked humour. 'Now we come to the good part; I get to blindfold you.'
He looked gorgeous with the sun gleaming on his black hair, his handsome face relaxed in a smile. 'This wouldn't have anything to do with kinky sex, would it?' Jemma asked.
'Shame on you,' Luke mocked. 'The very opposite, in fact.' Jemma made a small moue of disappointment as he tied a black scarf around her eyes and, with a guiding hand around her waist, led her forward. She felt the paving beneath her feet, and then soil before he stopped.