Playing by the Greek's Rules (7 page)

He said nothing. Just looked at her, that dark gaze uncomfortably penetrating.

She waited, heart pounding, virtually squirming on the spot. ‘I'm not good with delayed gratification. I'm more of an instant person. I like to—'

‘Hush.' Finally he spoke and then he reached out and drew her against him, the look in his eyes driving words and thoughts from her head. She felt the warmth of his hand against the base of her spine, the slow, sensitive stroke of his fingers low on her back and then he lifted his hands and cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. ‘Lily Rose—'

She swallowed. ‘Nik—'

‘Don't be nervous.' He murmured the words against her lips. ‘There's no reason to be nervous.'

‘I'm not nervous,' she lied. ‘But I'm not really sure what happens next.'

‘I'll decide what happens next.'

Her heart bumped uncomfortably against her ribs. ‘So—what do you want me to do?'

His mouth hovered close to hers and his fingers grazed her jaw. ‘I want you to stop talking.'

‘I'm going to stop talking right now this second.' Her stomach felt as if a thousand butterflies were trying to escape. She hadn't expected him to be so gentle, but those exploring fingers were slow, almost languorous as they stroked her face and slid over her neck and into her hair.

She stood, disorientated by intoxicating pleasure as he trailed his mouth along her jaw, tormenting her with dark, dangerous kisses. Heat uncurled low in her pelvis and spread through her body, sapping the strength from her knees, and she slid her hands over those sleek, powerful shoulders, feeling the hard swell of muscle beneath her palms. His mouth moved lower and she tilted her head back as he kissed her neck and then the base of her throat. She felt the slow slide of his tongue against supersensitive skin, the warmth of his breath and then his hand slid back into her hair and he brought his mouth back to hers. He kissed her with an erotic expertise that made her head spin and her legs grow heavy. With each slow stroke of his tongue, he sent her senses spinning out of control. It was like being drugged. She tried to find her balance, her centre, but just when she felt close to grasping a few threads of control, he used his mouth to drive every coherent thought from her head. Shaky, she lifted her hand to his face, felt the roughness of his jaw against her palm and the lean, spare perfection of his bone structure.

She slid her fingers into his hair and felt his hand slide down her spine and draw her firmly against him.

She felt him, brutally hard through the silky fabric of her dress, and she gave a moan, low in her throat as he trapped her there with the strength of his arms, the power in those muscles reminding her that this wasn't a safe flirtation, or a game.

His kisses grew rougher, more intimate, more demanding and she tugged at his shirt, her fingers swift and sure on the buttons, her movements more frantic with each bit of male muscle she exposed.

His chest was powerful, his abs lean and hard and she felt a moment of breathless unease because she'd never had sex with a man built like him.

He was self-assured and experienced and as she pushed the shirt from his shoulders she tried to take a step backwards.

‘I'd like to keep my clothes on, if that's all right with you.'

‘It's not all right.' But there was a smile in his voice as he slid his hand from her hips to her waist, pulling her back against him. His fingers brushed against the underside of her breast and she moaned.

‘You look as if you spend every spare second of your life working out.'

‘I don't.'

‘You get this way through lots of athletic sex?'

His mouth hovered close to hers. ‘You promised to stop talking.'

‘That was before I saw you half naked. I'm intimidated. That photo didn't lie. Now I know what you look like under your clothes I think I might be having body-image problems.'

He smiled, and she felt his hands at the back of her dress and the slow slither of silk as her dress slid to the floor.

Standing in front of him in nothing but her underwear and high heels, she felt ridiculously exposed. It didn't matter that he'd already seen her that way. This was different.

He eased back from her, his eyes slumberous and dangerously dark. ‘Let's go upstairs.'

Her knees were shaking so much she wasn't sure she could walk but the next moment he scooped her into his arms and she gave a gasp of shock and dug her hands in his shoulder.

‘Don't you dare drop me. I bruise easily.' She had a close-up view of his face and stared hungrily at the hard masculine lines, the blue-black shadow of his jaw and the slim, sensual line of his mouth. ‘If I'd known you were planning on carrying me I would have said no to dessert.'

‘Dessert was the best part.' They reached the top of the stairs and he carried her into his bedroom and lowered her to the floor next to the bed.

She didn't see him move, and yet a light came on next to the bed sending a soft beam over the silk covers. Glancing around her, Lily realised that if she lay on that bed her body would be illuminated by the wash of light.

‘Can we switch the lights off?'

His eyes hooded, he lowered his hands to his belt. ‘No.' As he removed the last of his clothes she let her eyes skid downwards and felt heat pour into her cheeks.

It was only a brief glance, but it was enough to imprint the image of his body in her brain.

‘Do you model underwear in your spare time? Because seriously—' Her cheeks flooded with colour. ‘Okay so I think this whole thing would be easier in the dark—then I won't be so intimidated by your supersonic abs.'

‘Hush.' He smoothed her hair back from her face. ‘Do you trust me?' His voice was rough and she felt a flutter of nerves low in her belly.

‘I—yes. I think so. Why? Am I being stupid?'

‘No. Close your eyes.'

She hesitated and then closed them. She heard the sound of a drawer opening and then felt something soft and silky being tied round her eyes.

‘What are you doing?' She lifted her hand but he closed his fingers round her wrist and drew her hands back to her sides.

‘Relax.' His voice was a soft purr. ‘I'm taking away one of your senses. The one that's making you nervous. There's no need to panic. You still have four remaining. I want you to use those.'

‘I can't see.'

‘Exactly. You wanted to do this in the dark. Now you're in the dark.'

‘I meant that you should put the lights out! It was so you couldn't see me, not so that I couldn't see you.'

‘Shh.' His lips nibbled at hers, his tongue stroking over her mouth in a slow, sensual seduction.

She was quivering, her senses straining with delicious anticipation as she tried to work out where he was and where he'd touch her next.

She felt his lips on her shoulder and felt his fingers slide the thin straps of her bra over her arms. Wetness pooled between her thighs and she pressed them together, so aroused she could hardly breathe.

He took his time, explored her neck, her shoulder, the underside of her breast until she wasn't sure her legs would hold her and he must have known that because he tipped her back onto the bed, supporting her as she lost her balance.

She could see nothing through the silk mask but she felt the weight of him on top of her, the roughness of his thigh against hers and the slide of silk against her heated flesh as he stripped her naked.

She was quivering, her senses sharpened by her lack of vision. She felt the warmth of his mouth close over the tip of her breast, the skilled flick of his tongue sending arrows of pleasure shooting through her over-sensitised body.

She gave a moan and clutched at his shoulders. ‘Do we need a safe word or something?' She felt him pause.

‘Why would you need a safe word?'

‘I thought—'

‘I'm not going to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.'

‘What do I say if I want you to stop?'

His mouth brushed lightly across her jaw. ‘You say “stop”.'

‘That's it?'

‘That's it.' There was a smile in his voice. ‘If I do one single thing that makes you uncomfortable, tell me.'

‘Is embarrassed the same as uncomfortable?'

He gave a soft laugh and she felt the stroke of his palm on her thigh and then he parted her legs and his mouth drifted from her belly to her inner thigh.

He paused, his breath warm against that secret place. ‘Relax,
erota mou
.'

She lifted her hands to remove the blindfold but he caught her wrists in one hand and held them pinned, while he used the other to part her and expose her secrets.

Unbearably aroused, melting with a confusing mix of desire and mortification, she tried to close her legs but he licked at her intimately, opening her with his tongue, exploring her vulnerable flesh with erotic skill and purpose until all she wanted was for him to finish what he'd started.

‘Nik—' She writhed, sobbed, struggled against him and he released her hands and anchored her hips, holding her trapped as he explored her with his tongue.

She'd forgotten all about removing the blindfold.

The only thing in her head was easing the maddening ache that was fast becoming unbearable.

She dug her fingers in the sheets, moaning as he slid his fingers deep inside her, manipulating her body and her senses until she tipped into excitement overload. She felt herself start to throb round those seeking fingers, but instead of giving her what she wanted he gently withdrew his hand and eased away from her.

‘Please! Oh, please—' she sobbed in protest, wondering what he was doing.

Was he leaving her?

Was he stopping?

With a whimper of protest, she writhed and reached for him and then she heard a faint sound and understood the reason for the brief interlude.

Condom,
she thought, and then the ability to think coherently vanished because he covered her with the hard heat of his body. She felt the blunt thrust of his erection at her moist entrance and tensed in anticipation, but instead of entering her he cupped her face in his hand and gently slid off the blindfold.

‘Look at me.' His soft command penetrated her brain and she opened her eyes and stared at him dizzily just as he slid his hand under her bottom and entered her in a series of slow, deliciously skilful thrusts. He was incredibly gentle, taking his time, murmuring soft words in Greek and then English as he moved deep into the heart of her. Then he paused, kissed her mouth gently, holding her gaze with his.

‘Are you all right? Do you want to use the safe word?' His voice was gently teasing but the glitter in his eyes and the tension in his jaw told her he was nowhere near as relaxed as he pretended to be.

In the grip of such intolerable excitement she was incapable of responding, Lily simply shook her head and then moaned as he withdrew slightly and surged into her again, every movement of his body escalating the wickedly agonising pleasure.

She slid her hands over the silken width of his shoulders, down his back, her fingers clamping over the thrusting power of his body as he rocked against her. His hand was splayed on her bottom, his gaze locked on hers as he drove into her with ruthlessly controlled strength and a raw, primitive rhythm. She wrapped her legs around him as he brought pleasure raining down on both of them. She cried out his name and he took her mouth, kissing her deeply, intimately, as the first ripple of orgasm took hold of her body. They didn't stop kissing, mouths locked, eyes locked as her body contracted around his and dragged him over the edge of control. She'd never experienced anything like it, the whole experience a shattering revelation about her capacity for sensuality.

It was several minutes before she was capable of speaking and longer than that before she could persuade her body to move.

As she tried to roll away from him, his arms locked around her. ‘Where do you think you're going?'

‘I'm sticking to the rules. I thought this was a one-night thing.'

‘It is.' He hauled her back against him. ‘And the night isn't over yet.'

CHAPTER FIVE

N
IK
SPENT
TEN
MINUTES
under a cold shower, trying to wake himself up after a night that had consisted of the worst sleep of his life and the best sex. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't wanted to leave the bed in the morning.

A ton of work waited for him in the office, but for the first time ever he was contemplating working from home so that he could spend a few more hours with Lily. After her initial shyness she'd proved to be adventurous and insatiable, qualities that had kept both of them awake until the rising sun had sent the first flickers of light across the darkened bedroom.

Eventually she'd fallen into an exhausted sleep, her body tangled around his as dawn had bathed the bedroom in a golden glow.

It had proved impossible to extract himself without waking her so Nik, whose least favourite bedroom activity was hugging, had remained there, his senses bathed in the soft floral scent of her skin and hair, trapped by those long limbs wrapped trustingly around him.

And he had no one to blame but himself.

She'd offered to leave and he'd stopped her.

He frowned, surprised by his own actions. He had no need for displays of affection or any of the other meaningless rituals that seemed to inhabit other people's relationships. To him, sex was a physical need, no different from hunger and thirst. Once satisfied he moved on. He had no desire for anything deeper. He didn't believe anything deeper existed.

When he was younger, women had tried to persuade him differently. There had been a substantial number who had believed they had what it took to penetrate whatever steely coating made his heart so inaccessible. When they'd had no more success than their predecessors they'd withdrawn, bruised and broken, but not before they'd delivered their own personal diagnosis on his sorry condition.

He'd heard it all. That he didn't have a heart, that he was selfish, single minded, driven, too focused on his work. He accepted those accusations without argument, but knew that none explained his perpetually single status. Quite simply, he didn't believe in love. He'd learned at an early age that love could be withdrawn as easily as it was given, that promises could be made and broken in the same breath, that a wedding ring was no more than a piece of jewellery, and wedding vows no more binding than one plant twisted loosely around another.

He had no need for the friendship and affection that punctuated other people's lives.

He'd taught himself to live without it, so to find himself wrapped in the tight embrace of a woman who smiled even when she was asleep was as alien to him as it was unsettling.

For a while, he'd slept, too, and then woken to find her locked against him. Telling himself that she was the one holding him and not the other way round, he'd managed to extract himself without waking her and escaped to the bathroom where he contemplated his options.

He needed to find a tactful way of ejecting her.

He showered, shaved and returned to the bedroom. Expecting to find her still asleep, he was thrown to find her dressed. She'd stolen one of his white shirts and it fell to mid-thigh, the sleeves flapping over her small hands as she talked on the phone.

‘Of course he'll be there.' Her voice was as soothing as warm honey. ‘I'm sure it's a simple misunderstanding...well, no I agree with you, but he's very busy...'

She lay on her stomach on the bed, her hair hanging in a blonde curtain over one shoulder, the sheets tangled around her bare thighs.

Nik took one look at her and decided that there was no reason to rush her out of the villa.

They'd have breakfast on the terrace. Maybe enjoy a swim.

Then he'd find a position they hadn't yet tried before sending her home in his car.

Absorbed in her conversation, she hadn't noticed him and he strolled round in front of her and slowly released the towel from his waist.

He saw her eyes go wide. Then she gave him a smile that hovered somewhere between cheeky and innocent and he found himself resenting the person on the end of the phone who was taking up so much of her time.

He dressed, aware that she was watching him the whole time, her conversation reduced to soothing, sympathetic noises.

It was the sort of exchange he'd never had in his life. The sort that involved listening while someone poured out their woes. When Nik had a problem he solved it or accepted it and moved on. He'd never understood the female urge to dissect and confide.

‘I know,' she murmured. ‘There's nothing more upsetting than a rift in the family, but you need to talk. Clear the air. Be open about your feelings.'

She was so warm and sympathetic it was obvious to Nik that the conversation was going to be a long one. Someone had rung in the belief that talking to Lily would make them feel better and he couldn't see a way that this exchange would ever end as she poured a verbal Band-Aid over whatever wound she was being asked to heal. Who would want to hang up when they were getting the phone equivalent of a massive hug?

Outraged on her behalf, Nik sliced his finger across his throat to indicate that she should cut the connection.

When she didn't, he was contemplating snatching the phone and telling whoever it was to get a grip, sort out their own problems and stop encroaching on Lily's good nature when she gestured to the phone with her free hand.

‘It's for you,' she mouthed. ‘Your father.'

His
father
?

The person she'd been soothing and placating for the past twenty minutes was his
father
?

Nik froze. Only now did he notice that the phone in her hand was his. ‘You answered my phone?'

‘I wouldn't have done normally, but I saw it was your dad and I knew you'd want to talk to him. I didn't want you to miss his call because you were in the shower.' Clearly believing she'd done him an enormous favour, she wished his father a cheery, caring goodbye and held out the phone to him. The front of his shirt gapped, revealing those tempting dips and curves he'd explored in minute detail the night before. The scrape of his jaw had left faint red marks over her creamy skin and the fact that he instantly wanted to drop the phone in the nearest body of water and take her straight back to bed simply added to his irritation.

‘That's my shirt.'

‘You have so many, I didn't think you'd miss one.'

Reflecting on the fact she was as chirpy in the morning as she was the rest of the day, Nik dragged his gaze from her smiling mouth, took the phone from her and switched to Greek. ‘You didn't need to call again. I got your last four messages.'

‘Then why didn't you call me back?'

‘I've been busy.'

‘Too busy to talk to your own father? I have rung you every day this week, Niklaus. Every single day.'

Aware that Lily was listening Nik paced to the window, turned his back on her and stared out over the sea. ‘Is the wedding still on?'

‘Of course it is on! Why wouldn't it be? I love Diandra and she loves me. You would love her, too, if you took the time to meet her and what better time than the day in which we exchange our vows?' There was a silence. ‘Nik, come home. It has been too long.'

Nik knew exactly how long it had been to the day.

‘I've been busy.'

‘Too busy to visit your own family? This is the place of your birth and you never come home. You have a villa here that you converted and you don't even visit. I know you didn't like Callie and it's true that for a long time I was very angry with you for not making more of an effort when she showed you so much love, but that is behind us now.'

Reflecting on exactly what form that ‘love' had taken, Nik tightened his hand on the phone and wondered if he'd been wrong not to tell his father the unpalatable truth about his third wife. He'd made the decision that since she'd ended the relationship anyway there was nothing to be gained from revealing the truth, but now he found himself in the rare position of questioning his own judgement.

‘Will Callie be at the wedding?'

‘No.' His father was quiet. ‘I wanted her to bring little Chloe, but she hasn't responded to my calls. I don't mind admitting it's a very upsetting situation all round for everyone.'

Not everyone,
Nik thought. He was sure Callie wasn't remotely upset. Why would she be? She'd extracted enough money from his father to ensure she could live comfortably without ever lifting a finger again. ‘You would really want her at your wedding?'

‘Callie, no. But Chloe? Yes, of course. If I had my way she would be living here with me. I still haven't given up hope that might happen one day. Chloe is my child, Nik. My daughter. I want her to grow up knowing her father. I don't want her thinking I abandoned her or chose not to have her in my life.'

Nik kept his eyes forward and the past firmly suppressed. ‘These things happen. They're part of life and relationships.'

His father sighed. ‘I'm sorry you believe that. Family is the most important thing in the world. I want that for you.'

‘I set my own life goals, and that isn't on the list,' Nik drawled softly. Contemplating the complexity of human relationships, he was doubly glad he'd successfully avoided them himself. Like every other area of his life, he had his feelings firmly under control. ‘Would Diandra really want Chloe to be living with you?'

‘Of course! She'd be delighted. She wants it as much as I do. And she'd really like to meet you, too. She's keen for us to be a proper family.'

A proper family.

A long-buried memory emerged from deep inside his brain, squeezing itself through the many layers of self-protection he'd used to suppress it.

It had been so long the images were no longer clear, a fact for which he was grimly grateful. Even now, several decades later, he could still remember how it had felt to have those images replaying in his head night after night.

A man, a woman and a young boy, living an idyllic existence under blue skies and the dazzle of the sun. Growing up, he'd learned a thousand lessons about living. How to cook with leaves from the vine, how to distil the grape skins and seeds to form the potent
tsikoudia
they drank with friends. He'd lived his cocooned existence until one day his world had crumbled and he'd learned the most important lesson of all.

That a family was the least stable structure invented by man.

It could be destroyed in a moment.

‘Come home, Niklaus,' his father said quietly. ‘It has been too long. I want us to put the past behind us. Callie is no longer here.'

Nik didn't tell him that the reason he avoided the island had nothing to do with Callie.

Whenever he returned there it stirred up the same memory of his mother leaving in the middle of the night while he watched in confusion from the elegant curve of the stairs.

Where are you going, Mama? Are you taking us with you? Can we come, too?

‘Niklaus?' His father was still talking. ‘Will you come?'

Nik dragged his hand over the back of his neck. ‘Yes, if that's what you want.'

‘How can you doubt it?' There was joy in his father's voice. ‘The wedding is Tuesday but many of our friends are arriving at the weekend so that we can celebrate in style. Come on Saturday then you can join in the pre-wedding celebrations.'

‘Saturday?' His father expected him to stay for four days? ‘I'll have to see if I can clear my diary.'

‘Of course you can. What's the point of being in charge of the company if you can't decide your own schedule? Now tell me about Lily. I like her very much. How long have the two of you been together?'

Ten memorable hours.
‘How do you know her name?'

‘We've been talking, Niklaus! Which is more than you and I ever do. She sounds nice. Why don't you bring her to the wedding?'

‘We don't have that sort of relationship.' He felt a flicker of irritation. Was that why she'd spent so much time on the phone talking to his father? Had she decided that sympathy might earn her an invite to the biggest wedding of the year in Greece?

Exchanging a final few words with his father, he hung up. ‘Don't ever,' he said with silky emphasis as he turned to face her, ‘answer my phone again.' But he was talking to an empty room because Lily was nowhere to be seen.

Taken aback, Nik glanced towards the bathroom and then noticed the note scrawled on a piece of paper by his pillow.

Thanks for the best rebound sex ever. Lily.

The best rebound sex?

She'd left?

Nik picked up the note and scrunched it in his palm. He'd been so absorbed in the conversation with his father he hadn't heard her leaving.

The dress from the night before lay neatly folded on the chair but there was no sign of the shoes or his shirt. He had no need to formulate a plan to eject her from his life because she'd removed herself.

She'd gone.

And she hadn't even bothered saying goodbye.

* * *

‘No need to ask if you had a good night, it's written all over your face.' Brittany slid her feet into her hiking boots and reached for her bag. ‘Nice shirt. Is that silk?' She reached out and touched the fabric and gave a murmur of appreciation. ‘The man has style, I'll give him that.'

‘Thanks for your text. It was sweet of you to check on me. How was your evening?'

‘Nowhere near as exciting as yours apparently. While you were playing Cinderella in the wolf's lair, I was cataloguing pottery shards and bone fragments. My life is so exciting I can hardly bear it.'

‘You love it. And I think you're mixing your fairy tales.' Aware that her hair was a wild mass of curls after the relentless exploration of Nik's hands, Lily scooped it into a ponytail. She told herself that eventually she'd stop thinking about him. ‘Did you find anything else after I left yesterday?'