“Who says it’s not an option?”
She frowned. “I haven’t seen a pool here.”
“There is, in fact, a pool,” he said, with a nod. “But I have something better in mind.”
Her lips parted to form a circle. “I left my bathers at Benji’s villa.”
He came towards her, bracing a hand on either side of the table, eyes boring down at her. “They won’t be necessary. Where I am taking you is perfectly private.”
And a thrill of excitement leapt from him to her, so she was scraping back her chair so quickly she almost knocked over her coffee.
Not twenty minutes later,after a short walk in the morning sun, they arrived at the edge of a lagoon. It was, as Leonidas had promised, utterly private. At one time, the garden surrounding the lagoon would have been very formal, the bones of that remained in evidence, but carefully shaped bushes had now given way to wild abandon. What were once neatly rounded caps grew with enthusiasm towards the sky, branches like tendrils, striking out. In front of them sat a hedge of thick, fragrant lavender, and lower than that, tulips, still in bloom. An enormous magnolia tree grew to one side, the branches forming natural resting spots for birds and, if she were fifteen years younger, for Mila, who’d always had a penchant for tree climbing. A break in the foliage had been opportunistically taken up by wild grass, but the effect was quite striking, juxtaposed with the carefully planted cottage garden. Beyond that was an oak tree, enormous and strong, and very old, so Mila stared up at it in wonder. The water glimmered in the bright sunlight, and a gentle trickling sound drew her attention to a statue—a mermaid, of all things—at the edge of the water, designed to appear as though she were just emerging. The sun hit her in the right light, and Mila smiled, because her body was covered now in lichen, which somehow made her seem all the more magical.
“It’s so beautiful.”
Leonidas, when Mila turned to face him, was staring right at Mila, so her heart stammered, and she smiled somewhat awkwardly. Inside, that same little warning sign blared to life. She ignored it.
“Will it do?”
In truth, a pool would have been better, but she wasn’t about to turn up her nose at the chance to swim in a place such as this. Her response was to lift her hands to her shirt, pulling it off her head in one smooth movement, her cheeks flushing a little, because she wore no bra and she could feel his steady inspection. Her skirt came next, so she wore only her underpants. Her fingers found the elastic waistband but a moment later, he was right there, hands on hers, stilling her.
His hand lifted, catching her breast, cupping it, his forefinger and thumb moving over the flesh that had been rubbed raw by his stubble, by the focus of his attention the night before.
“Did I hurt you?”
Her eyes widened. She wasn’t capable of speech, only of shaking her head slowly, eyes hooded.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded now, swaying forward slightly, so her sex brushed his hardness and she made an involuntary sound of surprise and pleasure.
“Allow me.” For the second time in twenty four hours, Leonidas crouched down, slowly, torturously, removing her underpants, so her skin was covered in goosebumps and her blood was rushing faster than a torrent.
Last night had been satisfying, a million times over, and yet a beast within her stirred now, insatiable, hungry, needy.
“You are perfect.”
Pleasure spooled at the base of her spine then whispered through her bones. She closed her eyes, the moment absorbing her, senses on heightened alert, the breeze against her bare skin, the gentle sound of branches shifting, leaves rustling, water splashing. She breathed in, tasting the fragrance of the flowers, the warmth in the air, and dropped her hands to his shoulders, connecting her fingertips to his sun warmed flesh and sighing. It was a moment she wanted to exist in forever. To trap within her, and hold for all time.
The thought had her pulling away, quickly, turning, as if suddenly fascinated by the water, when in reality, she was compellingly fascinated by him, by wanting him, needing him, by the beginning of a worry that she might always want him.
It sent ice drilling into her veins.
“Race you,” she called, ignoring the twinge in her ankle as she began to move quickly to the edge of the lagoon, the grass giving way to sand and then she was in the water, the deliciously cool liquid spooling around her ankles, splashing against her thighs as she moved faster, deeper, laughing as adrenalin pumped through her veins. She looked over her shoulder, to see how close Leonidas was, only to find him standing in the exact same spot, staring at her with a look on his face she couldn’t comprehend. Her heart went into overdrive; she looked away again, and when the water was up to her breasts, she dove beneath it, coming up for air in the middle of the green-tinted lagoon, and treading water as she looked back at him. He was still on the edge of the water, and he was still a study in masculine strength. So much so, she found it hard to draw breath.
“Are you going to join me?”
His lips tugged in a sexy half-smile. “But the view from here is so good.”
“The view from here’s not half bad either.”
His grin spread into a wider smile and her heart gave an unmistakable quickstep. How easy it would be to fall for him.
The thought sailed through her, landing hard against her chest.
It would be easy to fall for him, if she were anyone else. If he were anyone else, come to think of it. But Mila was hardwired to care only about her career and he, she suspected, was just the same.
“It’s your loss,” she called.