Niko's Stolen Bride (9 page)

Niko spoke to Eduardo, who nodded and stepped back on the outer deck, sliding the doors closed behind him with a soft swoosh, shutting out the late afternoon sunlight. Only then did Niko set her down, releasing her legs first so that she slid slowly down the length of his body and rested against him with her feet on the floor. He held her there with one arm around her waist. With the other hand, he stroked down the length of her back from shoulder to waist then trailed his fingers up to do it again.

“Don’t think about it,” he said quietly.

Kara looked up. His face quivered in the sheen of tears that blocked her vision. “I can’t help it. It’s just that–”

She wanted to tell him, but the idea was so freshly formed in her mind that she couldn’t force out the words. Frank, she’d just realized, had never cancelled the lease on his apartment or asked that she give up hers. He had put off the decision on where they would live after they were married. In the rush of wedding plans, it had not been a concern. Now, it seemed glaringly obvious that he’d never been sure he could go through with the ceremony. He had kept his apartment as an escape route.

She’d been such a fool. Too lost in the dream of marriage to realize that she was like Cinderella. Midnight had struck and her beautiful dress was exposed for the rag it really was.

“I was so blind,” she said on a broken sob. “I just wanted to get married. It was all I talked about for–”

“Did you want to be married? Or did you want to be married to Frank?”

She was still for a moment. As the import of his words sank in she pushed against his chest, stepping out of his arms. “Leave me alone.”

“Do you love him?”

Kara starred at Niko, taking in the stiff set to his shoulders and the thin line of his lips, but she was too wrapped up in his words to be concerned with the emotions that seemed to drive him. “Of course, I love him. Do you think I would have agreed to marry him if I didn’t?” The sarcasm in her tone bordered on rudeness, but she couldn’t stop it, really didn’t try.

“It happens.”

“Maybe in your world, but not mine.” It was well known that wealthy people sometimes married for business reasons or to forge an alliance with other powerful families, but for her, love was the only reason. “Don’t you understand?” she asked, her voice breaking on the words. “Haven’t you ever felt the overpowering need to have someone to share life’s ups and downs? To find that special someone who will always be there for you?” She had thought she was close to achieving that level of comfort and security with Frank, and then it had been ripped away.

“Yes.”

The one word was low and painful to hear. Strain pulled down the corners of his mouth, and a shadow of something resembling past pain clouded his eyes.

Understanding surfaced as she remembered that his brief marriage had ended so badly that he moved to Greece to avoid any reminders of the woman. Kara had not delved further into what had happened. Now, she wished she had.

Was there something about her situation that mirrored his? Is that why he had agreed to spend the day with her?

Anguish slowly rose in her, making it hard to breathe, threatening to suffocate her. There was a ringing in her ears and she wondered if she were going to pass out. She needed to get out. Out of the room. Off the ship. Away from everything and everyone that reminded her of Frank.

The sheer physical presence of the man in front of her didn’t help. Her awareness of him increased her discomfort. The warmth of his hands when he touched her, the hard muscles of his chest, the deep silky tones of his voice initiated an answering vibration in her. She wanted him, she realized. Wanted to touch him and sooth away his remembered pain, then let him sooth away hers. She longed to have him caress her with his big hands, drag her against the solidity of his chest and use those lovely sensuous lips to bring her to a peak of responsiveness that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Shock rocked her back on her heels. She turned sharply and strode to the window, wrapping her arms across her chest. Consciously, she erased all thoughts and focused inward as she’d learned to do years ago in a yoga class. She drew deep, slow breaths then released them. Being away from Niko brought a return of sanity that she badly needed. She must be misunderstanding her own body’s signals. This purely sexual attraction wasn’t something she’d ever felt. It was too soon after Frank. It was the wrong man.

Niko followed her, destroying her brief moment of equilibrium. Standing just behind her, the heat emanated from his tense muscles touching her cool, bare arms like a living blanket. She swung to face him, her gaze brushing across the stairs in the corner that led to her cabin – and escape.

He made a sharp gesture with his hand. “Enough,” he said, his voice low and rough. “This thing with Frank is done. You must move on and salvage what you can.”

She felt the blood draining from her face. As true as the words were, it was a reality she wasn’t ready to face. Frustration boiled just underneath the surface of her skin, fretting the edges of her consciousness. It wasn’t fair that her life was ripped apart like this while Frank walked off with her pride and dignity.

“I’m going below to shower now.”

Niko didn’t budge. He stood with his legs slightly apart in a stance that he must have adopted from years of riding on ships. He crossed his arms, the material of his shirt stretching, emphasizing the size of his biceps. The ridged muscle of his thighs looked stout and immovable. His posture, his attitude, the set of his jaw told her that he wasn’t a man to be tossed about in a storm of emotions. He set a path and forged his way through to the end, no matter what adversity he ran across on the journey.

“Please,” she began, not even sure what she was requesting. For him to move, perhaps. More likely for him to hold her close and tell her it was going to be all right.

“Shh.” His expression was suddenly tender, his eyes lit with concern, making them a smoky blue. “You’re safe with me.”

Kara swallowed. Safe was the last thing she felt when she was near him. Edgy, flustered, aware, alive, perhaps even intimidated. He was honed muscle and male grace. So different from Frank, whose brashness had sprung from his insecurities.

He reached for her, one hand going under her long pony tail to cup her nape. He bent his dark head toward her and she closed her eyes as his lips brushed across hers. She sighed against his mouth. She should pull away, but curiosity urged her to explore the differences between him and Frank. She would just allow this to go on for a moment, long enough to satisfy the questions she had about how good it would feel to be held by him.

Deliberately, she blanked her mind, pushing all images of flowers and wedding dresses from her. There was only Niko, filling her thoughts and revitalizing her with the touch of his sun-warmed skin against hers. She leaned into him, her hands running along his sides and around his back. Opening her palms wide against the soft fabric of his shirt, she felt the unyielding muscle underneath. His waist was narrow and firm where Frank was broad. Niko’s breath expanded in his chest as she ran her hands up to his shoulders then back down toward his lower back. There was no comparison on the width of the shoulders. No comparison period. Her fingers clenched in the material, wanting to lift it up and feel him warm and vital against her fingertips.

Tilting his head, he pressed his lips more firmly on hers, asking for permission to enter. His hot breath filled her mouth as she opened to his insistent motions, his tongue twined with hers.

Heat. That was all she thought and felt as she closed her eyes, blindly searching for the satisfaction that she’d been craving all day. Who was she kidding? All day? All her life. It had never been like this with Frank or anyone else.

She was lost, adrift on a sea of sensation. No sense of time or place, just the feel of Niko’s lips, the scorching heat of his body against hers, the rough abrasion of his hands as they skimmed against her clothes.

Spreading his legs further apart, he slid both hands down to her hips and pulled her into him. Pressed against him, his desire was obvious, heavy and hard against her thigh. She gasped against his lips as his physical reaction to her closeness sparked an answering spiral of warmth low in her abdomen. He broke the close contact of their mouths, tracing a path along her jaw to kiss the sensitive skin just under her ear. Sliding her fingers through his dark hair where it curled slightly at the nape, she wasn’t sure whether she intended to hold him there or pull him away so she could breathe.

Before she could decide, his lips settled on hers again, harder and more insistent. It was exactly what she wanted. She responded by slanting her head, allowing him deeper penetration. Gliding one hand along her rib cage, he cupped a heavy breast in his large hand, his thumb sliding inside the edge of her swimsuit to flick across the peak of her nipple. She moaned. She wanted him with a staggering intensity.

Here and now. On the sofa in the main cabin. On the floor if that’s where he wanted to take her.

It didn’t matter that Eduardo was on the deck and could walk back in at any time. Nor did it matter that the window shades were up and they could be seen from the surrounding boats. All that mattered was that Niko not stop touching her.

The thought shocked her into stillness. It didn’t make sense. This wasn’t her, this person filled with wanton needs and wild imaginings. She had fantasies, but that was all they were. Silly little imaginings, not something she would ever act upon or expect to happen to her. She was searching for a means to forget Frank. There was no other explanation for this sudden, compelling need to be close to this man, this stranger in every way.

She was using him.

A tide of guilt slowed her movements and she disentangled her fingers from his hair. Sensing the change in her, he raised his head, the glaze of passion in his eyes fading to wariness.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice husky. “I didn’t mean–”

He placed two warm fingers over her lips, stopping the words. “No. You did nothing. I started this.”

A loud thump sounded on the other side of the doors and the boat rocked slightly.

“Eduardo,” she heard George call. “I’m back.”

Smoothing the edge of her swimsuit top back in place with a gentle brush of his fingers, Niko released her with reluctance apparent in every movement and stepped back. She felt bereft as the coolness of the conditioned air replaced the scorching heat of his skin.

Abandoned.

It was ridiculous to feel that way when she’d wanted him to free her, but she couldn’t help the disappointment that engulfed her. It replaced her sensual haze with such speed she felt physically ill. She had to get away before she did something stupid like cry.

He reached to place one hand against her cheek, effectively stopping her retreat. “This is not over.”

His voice was smooth and held a depth of promise that stirred a response inside her. She wanted to believe him, but knew it was unfair to continue using him to soothe her own battered emotions. He’d been kind and compassionate toward her today, the perfect companion, filling her afternoon with pleasure on what should have been the worst day of her life.

As grateful as she was that he’d made the day bearable, it would be stupid to imagine it had been anything more than an attempt to distract her. He was no different from her father with his insistence that she take the day trip on the yacht. They were all trying to protect her when what she really needed was to wallow in the anguish, to accept the heartache and cry herself to sleep. She needed her girlfriends, a few of her favorite movies and gallons of strawberry ice cream.

She didn’t need a man. Especially not Niko.

She lifted her head and locked her gaze with the stormy blue of Niko’s eyes. “Yes, it is over. It definitely is.”

Kara sat in the small galley and watched as Eduardo expertly breaded and pan-fried the fish and scallops that George had bought on the island. The soft whir of an exhaust fan wafted away the smells of cooking. Outside the small oval port hole, it was nearly dark, with the barest hint of light glinting on the unending blue blanket of ocean.

George leaned in the doorway of the small kitchen, one slim shoulder propped against the door jamb. Kara marveled that he was always so full of energy, laughing often and gesturing with his hands as he talked.