Being alone for so long—just him and nature—it got so lonely at times. Not that he’d ever admitted it to anyone. But with Popi in his arms, he had a glimpse of what life might be like if he were to let someone get close.
Her hand reached up and wrapped around his neck. In that moment, he lost his fingertip-hold on reality. Popi leaned into him. Her lips moved over his, taking the lead in this arousing dance. She was so hot that everywhere she touched him, he felt singed. And he didn’t want her to stop.
He’d kept to himself for too long. He told himself that was why her kiss was sweeter than the passion fruit Moscato wine being passed around the wedding. He assured himself it was all an illusion that would soon pass. But the longer they kissed, the more he craved her.
Apollo let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her waist. Her baby bump kept him from being able to pull her as close as he would like. It was a reminder that this wasn’t a fantasy. Popi was very much flesh and blood.
He should stop this. He should put some distance between them. He took a small step back—at least he thought it was a step—but Popi was still leaning into him as their lips moved hungrily over each other.
Her fingers spread out over his chest, scattering his thoughts of ending things. The V-neck of his shirt allowed her fingertips to touch his bare skin. It was as though just by her touch alone, she branded him as her own.
No woman, no kiss, had ever affected him so deeply. It was like they’d been made for each other. She was the half that made him whole.
A drum roll echoed through the garden and pounded reality back into his head. He pulled back and looked at her. It took them each a moment to catch their breath. He hadn’t come here to kiss Popi. His fingers moved over his mouth, still remembering the softness of her touch. He drew in an uneven breath.
Kissing her had been a mistake. He didn’t know if he was going to be able to talk to her—to look at her—without recalling that earth-moving kiss. And he couldn’t afford to be distracted. There was too much at stake.
He stepped away. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
Popi’s gaze darkened. “The song has ended. Now I want answers. Who are you?”
“Do you really not recognize me?”
“No.” She studied his face. “Why should I know you? Are you famous?”
“In a manner of speaking.” He’d been fodder for the tabloids off and on his whole life. Billionaire heir spotted here...spotted there. “I’m Apollo Drakos.”
Her mouth gaped. Her eyes reflected the rampant thoughts racing through her mind. It took her a moment to press her glossy lips together.
Popi’s gaze narrowed. “Where have you been? We tried to reach you right after the accident, but no one knew what had happened to you.”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“Of course it matters.” Her voice assumed an accusatory tone. “You should have been here.”
His muscles tensed as yet another person heaped guilt on him. He deserved the condemnation and accusations, but there was nothing she could say that he hadn’t already said to himself.
“I’m here now.”
“Then you know about the accident and that we had the funeral—”
“I know all of it. My attorney filled me in.”
Her gaze searched his. “Then what are you doing here on the island?”
“I’m here to claim the Drakos heir.”
CHAPTER FIVE
NO. THAT CAN’T be true.
Popi’s arms immediately wrapped around her midsection. She’d heard rumors about the man standing before her. Apollo was known to be reckless and selfish. No way was he going to steal away into the night with this baby. Not on her watch. But try as she might, the rush of words clogged up in her throat. The back of her eyes stung with tears of frustration and a flurry of hormones.
Popi’s sister, Andrina, had said Apollo was a playboy—taking what he wanted and leaving a string of broken hearts across the globe. But Popi considered herself lucky. He’d stolen a kiss, not her heart.
Okay, maybe they’d shared much more than a fleeting kiss. But something had clicked between them when they’d been chest to heaving chest, lip to eager lip.