He reached for the passenger helmet and moved to place it on her head—she couldn’t keep a hand on her walking stick at the same time as positioning it. But his step brought their bodies together and he wasn’t strong enough to withdraw immediately. Instead, he relished the sensation of her softness against him, her delicate, fine, fragile body, so achingly beautiful and alluring, helmet forgotten by his side.
Without any forethought, a hand wrapped around her back, his fingers spread wide across the indent of her spine, his thumb moving slowly. He inhaled deeply, his nostrils filled by her, his eyes probing hers, challenging her. She met his gaze, and in her features he saw every reason he had to step back. Everything he knew about her hammered inside his mind, and yet his body refused to comply. He couldn’t ignore how much he wanted her, even considering his loyalty to Benji.
The death of Konstantinos had robbed him of his usual restraint. His self-control was shot. But he still knew right from wrong, and if he forgot that, he’d hate himself in the morning.
“Mila—,” He was drowning; he needed her to save him. But how? By walking away, or giving in?
“I know,” she said quietly. “This can’t happen. I get it.” Her throat shifted as she swallowed. “It’s just—here, now, in the moonlight, don’t you think everything feels just a little bit magical?”
His chest expanded as he breathed in then expelled air, trying to get a grip on reality.
“I want you to kiss me, Leonidas. Just here, just for a moment. Let’s pretend nothing and no one else exists.”
It was an invitation he had no hope of resisting. Just a kiss, after all. What could possibly go wrong?