‘Everything. I like everything.’
Her eyelids had fluttered to a close and Xanthos was relieved, because that had sounded too much like unconditional praise for his liking. He hoped she wasn’t going to startcaringfor him, and not just because she was the sister-in-law of his royal brother.
He stared at her flushed flesh. Yes, their bodies had met and matched with mind-blowing chemistry, but that was only one side of intimacy. Emotionally, she would be out of her depth and liable to mistake physical satisfaction for something else. Because that was what women did. It was how they operated. They attached emotions to actions which were never intended to be anything more than actions.
‘In that case, let me show you some more of my repertoire,’ he suggested on a silken boast.
‘You’re making it sound like performance art,’ she grumbled.
‘All life is performance.’
Bianca might have been tempted to continue the debate if he hadn’t started kissing her and before too long he was easing himself into her body again and making her concerns vanish like dust on the wind.
Some time later, she went into one of the bathrooms and stood beneath a torrent of hot water and when she emerged, wrapped in a white robe, she realised that Xanthos must have used another of the bathrooms for he sat in a matching robe at a linen-draped table, which had been set up in front of the tall windows, overlooking the park. He was looking at something on his phone as she walked in, and if she was a little disappointed that he hadn’t joined her in the shower she was sensible enough to keep her complaint to herself.
He put the phone down, but she noticed it was screen-side up.
‘I’ve ordered us a very late lunch,’ he said. ‘Come and sit down.’
Obediently, she slid into the chair opposite, but she must have been hungrier than she’d anticipated for she tucked into lobster and a feta and spinach pastry, which was one of the most delicious things she’d ever eaten. It was certainly an unconventional Christmas dinner. There were grapes the colour of rubies, accompanied by slivers of French cheese, followed by stewed plums and thick, clotted cream. They drank iced water and, afterwards, champagne—served in faceted crystal flutes which sparkled like diamonds.
‘This time it doesn’t taste of toothpaste,’ Xanthos observed wryly.
Bianca nodded but put the glass down after one sip, for the wine was making her feel vulnerable. Because wasn’t the recollection of memories dangerous? Didn’t it have the potential to create the idea that they shared some sort of history when they were just two people who had found themselves in an extraordinary situation and allowed sexual attraction to take over?
It made her realise just how quickly things had happened.
Too quickly.
‘Is the owner of this hotel really a friend of yours?’ she asked, deliberately redirecting her thoughts as she glanced out at London’s famous Hyde Park.
‘Zac?’ Xanthos took a sip of his drink. ‘We knew each other way back and our paths have crossed from time to time. In fact, you’ll meet him later.’ There was a pause. ‘If you’d like to.’
She looked at him blankly. ‘You mean, he’s here? In the hotel?’
‘Not right now. He and his wife live in Hampstead, but apparently it’s a tradition to bring their children to see the Granchester tree on Christmas afternoon. He said it would be good to catch up as we haven’t seen each other in a while, and I saw no reason to say no.’
She put her napkin down and gave a hesitant smile. ‘Yes. Yes, I’d like that.’
‘Good.’ His dark eyes glittered with obsidian fire. ‘But first I think you need to wipe that faintly concerned expression off your face and come over here so that I can kiss you.’
‘Or you could come over here?’
‘I could. But in order to do that I’d have to move.’ His tone was dry as he directed a wry glance at his lap. ‘And right now, I’m not sure I’d be able to.’
Bianca flushed with instinctive pleasure at the erotic inference and did as he asked, unsurprised when he untied her robe and placed his lips against her peaking nipple, and she gave a small moan of pleasure as his hardness sprang against her hungry fingers. The outcome was predictable, yet as Bianca began to rock back and forth on his rocky shaft, it felt as intense as the first time they’d made love. It was blissful when he closed his eyes like that and bit out a whimper of pleasure which sounded almost helpless. It gave her a heady rush of triumph which briefly obliterated all her doubts and uncertainties.
Nonetheless, she felt the skittering of nerves as she extricated herself from his embrace and hunted around for something suitable to wear, wondering what Xanthos’s friends would think of her. Had they met many of his lovers in the past? Pulling out a short dress in festive scarlet, she held it up in front of her, hoping the couple were sophisticated enough to be polite, even if they didn’t automatically approve of her.
But it seemed her fears were unfounded because handsome Zac and his blonde English wife, Emma, were delightful. As were their two children—Leo, a solemn, dark-eyed little boy of five, along with Eva, his thirteen month-old baby sister, who was the spitting image of her mother. The baby took an instant shine to Bianca and, in particular, her long hair—clamping a tight fist around one of the long black waves and refusing to let go, no matter how much her protesting mother tried to disengage the little fingers.
‘Honestly, I don’t mind,’ said Bianca, with a smile. ‘Though it might make it easier if I held her?’
‘You couldtry, though she probably won’t go to you,’ said Emma doubtfully, bursting into a peal of laughter as Eva immediately launched herself into Bianca’s arms. ‘Oh, it seems she will.’
It was a different kind of assault to the senses from the ones she’d been experiencing of late but as Bianca breathed in Eva’s clean, baby scent and a pair of chubby arms were draped around her neck, she was overcome by a wave of longing so powerful it felt almost visceral. A thought crossed her mind so quickly it was barely there, but it left an imprint as deep as if it had been branded there.
Will I ever hold a baby of my own like this?