Then he grabbed the sun protection oil. Rubbing some in his hands, he massaged it into her back.
“Mmm. I need oiling again, so soon?” Faint amusement tinged husky arousal in her voice as she turned her head toward him. He used the opportunity to take off her sunglasses so he could see her eyes. In the shades of blue, he saw heat matching his own blaze in their depths and arousal throbbed deep inside him.
The terror from Mwana’s intrusion into their morning had faded, although it had not totally disappeared, and he was grateful for the reprieve.
Watching her near collapse had torn him apart. The time was coming when he’d have to take matters into his own hands. For now, he intended to do everything he could to comfort his wife.
“Unless you want to burn badly?”
“Funny, the instructions on the bottle said to apply hourly, not every twenty minutes.”
“Ah, but the Greek sun can be quite harsh, and your skin is too precious to endanger.”
“Well, my skin is grateful for your stalwart efforts.” She raised her head and smiled at him.
His breath caught as her dimples flashed into sight. Thee mou, he’d missed seeing them. In other women, dimples seemed almost childish, but on Tinkerbelle, they were one of the sexiest things about her. He would die before he let the light of that smile dim.
As if cottoning onto his thoughts, she turned over completely. “What time is this reporter arriving?”
“He lands in Mykonos at seven this evening. Jameson will bring him over on the boat at nine.”
“I want to be there,” she said, her gaze serious and determined.
Everything inside him rebelled at the thought. But, he’d agreed to change, to find a middle ground.
His hand drifted slick with oil down her midriff and stopped above the waistline of her bikini bottoms. She gave a little shiver that made him almost lose his train of thought. “If I agree, you must stay by my side at all times. And if I ask you to do something, you do it. And no, I’m not trying to control you, bu
t if I think, for any reason, you’re in danger I might have to act fast, understood?”
She frowned. “I thought you said he was just a reporter?”
“That’s what he claims to be. But he got my attention by mentioning Mwana, so I intend to proceed with extreme caution. If it turns out he just wants a scoop, then we don’t have a problem. If things go south, I won’t hesitate to do what it takes to keep you safe. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Her mock salute lifted the swell of her right breast. His mouth watered.
“Mmm, I’ll have to get you to do that more often.” Bending forward, he trailed his lips over her cleavage.
“Oh, yes, sir…”
This time when he lost his train of thought, he didn’t try and regain it.
…
They stood at the end of the garden just before nine and watched the approaching boat’s light reflect off the water. Nick’s tension increased the closer the vessel got to the dock.
Beside him, Belle’s hair fluttered in the breeze. She pulled it off her face, and he saw the trepidation coiling through him mirrored in her eyes.
He grasped her hand in his and squeezed. She squeezed back, and a little ache throbbed in his chest. The feeling was so curious, so alien, he sucked in a short breath.
She looked up at him, gave a little smile, and returned her attention to the boat.
Four men were stepping off onto the wooden jetty—Jameson, two security guards, and Richard Francis. One guard secured the boat while Jameson escorted their visitor up the steps.
The first glimpse of Francis didn’t ease Nick’s tension. Not that the guy was a physical threat. Francis was short and rotund, although the mousy brown hair in his newspaper photo was now worn shaggier, along with a longer beard. He looked every bit the harried reporter. Or had been carefully groomed to look like one. Nick hadn’t quite made up his mind which yet.
No, what put Nick’s back up was the way the other man’s eyes darted to Belle. And stayed.
Nick deliberately stepped forward and made quick introductions. “Welcome to Althea. I hope your visit isn’t a complete waste of time.”