Seducing His Convenient Innocent

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Seducing His Convenient Innocent Page 11

by Rachael Thomas


  His arms wrapped around her, holding her to him. His gentleness was so unexpected after the firmness of his expression as she’d told him that her breath rushed from her in a gasp. She nestled herself against him, feeling safe and secure.

  ‘Thank you for telling me,’ he said as his lips pressed into her hair, but unlike the time on the beach she didn’t pull away. It was a caring and loving gesture and exactly what she wanted.

  ‘It scared me so much I just couldn’t see you. I’m so sorry for standing you up.’ Her voice was muffled by his tuxedo and she breathed in his scent, gathering strength from it.

  ‘I understand, Rio, and it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.’ His voice was gentle as he lifted her chin with his thumb, and she looked up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. ‘We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’

  ‘I know,’ she whispered as desire began to sluice away the fear of a night that had almost lost her Lysandros. She wasn’t going to allow Hans to dictate her future, her emotions any more. ‘But I meant what I said. I want to be with you tonight.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ His eyes searched hers.

  She smiled and stretched up to place her lips against his in a lingering and tender kiss. She didn’t want to talk about the past any more, didn’t want it to spoil things. She wanted to bring everything back to where they’d been as he’d been about to open the champagne, only now without that devastating secret between them.

  ‘I am.’ She smiled, pleased to see desire in his eyes once more. ‘Did you say something about champagne?’

  She watched intently as he popped the cork on the champagne, nerves and excitement whirling around inside her. She returned to the piano, reaching out her fingers, tracing them lightly over the keys, the past now banished by his understanding. She wanted him to make love to her, wanted him to be her first lover, and she would take this moment for what it was. Even though her heart was fast becoming his, she knew he was not the kind of man to give his. Not that it mattered now. She was beginning to fall in love with him and becoming truly his was all she wanted tonight.

  Tomorrow didn’t matter—just tonight.

  Without thinking about what she was doing, she pulled out the piano stool and seated herself before the black and white keys that had tormented her for so many weeks since the attack. She could hear the fizz of the champagne as Lysandros poured two glasses and knew that placing her fingers on the keys and playing was as much a part of this healing process as giving herself willingly to the man who was, at least for now, her fiancé. She wanted to be loved by him, to experience a night of passion with him, but first she had to do this.

  It was another way of putting aside that terrible afternoon.

  He placed the glasses of champagne on the piano and stood at its side, questions in his eyes. She kept her focus on the piano keys in front of her, grateful he hadn’t voiced those questions, hadn’t broken the spell that was propelling her to do this—towards him.

  She took a deep breath, lifted her hands onto the keys once more, poised and ready to play.

  Lysandros remained silent but moved to stand behind her, out of her line of vision. After what Hans had done, it should have made her nervous, but she trusted Lysandros. Not seeing him but knowing he was there, that he was with her on this healing journey, enabled her to focus. She loved him even more for his patience, his understanding. As if he knew this was something she had to do before they could become lovers.

  Her index finger pressed one note. She stopped. Was she ready for this? She didn’t know, but whatever this was, it was far more than just playing the piano again. She sat, locked in her own world of turmoil.

  Lysandros remained behind her. She was acutely aware of him standing there, of his presence, his patience, giving her strength. She took another breath, closed her eyes, slipping into that magical zone she always went to when she played. For the first time since the attempt by Hans to take from her what she hadn’t wanted to give, she was ready to allow all her emotions to flow from her and onto the keys. She pulled back her hands.

  She could do this. She could play the piano again and be with the man she loved.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LYSANDROS HELD HIS breath as he waited for Rio to play the first notes. The tension in the air was heavy. He’d seen her hesitation, knew it was because of all she’d told him and the worry of his reaction. He was as mad as hell, but he’d remained calm. For Rio’s sake, he’d kept all his anger in, understanding now why she’d stood him up and then ended things.

  If he was more able to connect emotionally with people, Rio may have confided in him, instead of ending things. But she hadn’t because of his damned male pride, along with his inability to allow emotions in. But Rio was changing all that, smashing down barrier after barrier, allowing emotions to escape and be felt, not just him but her too.

  He looked at Rio as she sat at the piano stool, his heart constricting so hard it hurt. He heard her draw in a deep breath and held his as she lifted her hands to the keys before pulling them back in hesitation. She needed to play right now, needed to let out everything she’d been holding back, everything about Hans, about him, about Xena’s accident. He knew instinctively she needed that before anything could happen between them.

  He also knew better than to break a musician’s concentration and focus, yet he wanted her to know he understood. Not just that she needed to play now, but why. He moved back towards her, stood behind her, about to rest his hands on her shoulders when he remembered how she’d described Hans behind her. He moved away, relieved he hadn’t destroyed the moment as she began to play.

  The first notes were tentative, unsure. Then more notes followed until he recognised the first movement of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. The sound of the piano filled his apartment. The soft, slow notes, so full of emotion it was as if he was at his own private concert, as if she was playing just for him—for them.

  He clenched his jaw, balling his hands into tight fists as need for Rio rocketed beyond anything he’d ever known. Each note smashed at the barriers around his emotions, the tension in the air increasing to almost suffocating levels. All he could think about was making love to her. He wanted Rio with a need reaching fever pitch, and as the notes were played with more conviction, he became convinced she was letting him know, through each seductive bar of music, that she wanted him too. That nothing else other than the two of them mattered. That tonight belonged to them alone.

  He moved slowly away from the temptation Rio created, trying to focus on the lights of Athens, but it was too much. He had to see her, had to watch her, and turned his attention back to Rio at the piano. Her body swayed in gentle motion with the music, her fingers caressing and stroking the keys, making him wish it was his body she was touching so lovingly. The low-cut back of her dress was showing off her spine, each movement she made more erotic than the last. The ferocity with which he wanted her took his breath away, but he was careful not to scare her, not after what she’d just told him. He wanted this moment, tonight, to be special for her.

  Several strands of her hair had fallen down and he longed to push them aside and kiss the pale skin of her neck. He wanted to inhale her scent, to taste her skin. How could a piece of music become so erotic?

  Because the woman you want is playing it.

  Rio stroked her long, slender fingers down the keys, her engagement ring catching the light and sparkling as she played the final notes of the first movement. Then, still locked in her emotional cocoon, she slowly laid her palms on her lap, her concert training still ruling despite the heightened sexual tension sparking around them.

  The notes of the piano faded away and silence hung heavy as he stood, waiting for her to come back from whatever place it was musicians went to when they’d invested every ounce of emotion into their performance. His breathing deepened, became heavy, as if he had been kissing her for the last five minu
tes instead of listening to her play.

  ‘There is only one thing more beautiful than hearing you play and that is watching you play.’ His voice was husky with desire, and drinking the remainder of his champagne in one go, he tried to hold himself back, something he was not at all used to doing.

  Rio turned to face him. ‘I’ve never played to a man like that before.’ She blushed and looked beyond him, out of the window, seemingly losing herself in the night view of the city he now called home.

  ‘Then I am honoured.’ He picked up her glass of champagne, not wanting her to think about the practice session she’d had with that vile man. He didn’t want her to ever have to think about that again. With a smile he handed the glass to her, his fingers inadvertently brushing against hers. Had she crossed some sort of barrier by playing like that to him? ‘Was that the first time you have played since...?’ He didn’t want to say the word ‘attack’; he didn’t want to bring it all back to her.

  She looked up at him, searching his eyes, and he didn’t miss the hesitation. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, so softly, so seductively he wanted to lean down and kiss her, but if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He’d want more, much more. ‘I couldn’t even sit at the piano. Then Xena had the accident.’

  She stood up, bringing herself so close to him that he’d swear she knew exactly what she was doing, just how teasing it was to have her delicious body, only partially concealed by the dark blue silk of her gown, so very close to him.

  ‘Xena will be okay,’ he said softly as he reached out and stroked her cheek. ‘I want you to be okay too.’

  ‘Me?’ Those long lashes fluttered down again, closing her off to him.

  ‘Yes, Rio, you.’ He lifted her chin with his finger until she looked up at him. ‘I want you to be happy, I want to make things right for you, but I’m fighting really hard here because I want to kiss you so much.’ All he wanted was to lose himself in the pleasure Rio’s body promised and give her that same pleasure.

  * * *

  Rio didn’t want to feel the pain crashing forward when he mentioned Xena. Neither did she want to remember the fear of the afternoon Hans had tried to kiss her, tried to touch her. She didn’t want anything other than to abandon herself to the intensity of the desire that filled the air like the heat before a thunderstorm.

  ‘I want you to kiss me,’ she whispered. The sound was so tremulous she wondered if he’d heard her.

  The fire of desire erupted in his eyes and doubts assailed her but she forced them back. She didn’t want to hear them, didn’t want to allow them to take away this moment. She wanted Lysandros, wanted him to kiss her and so much more.

  His eyes grew darker than the night sky hanging above the ancient city beyond the windows. She couldn’t look away, the fizz of desire arcing between them so powerfully. He didn’t say anything, didn’t acknowledge her words. Instead he moved closer, holding her face lightly in his hands as his lips gently met hers. A sigh of pleasure escaped from her and in her mind the happier notes of the Moonlight Sonata’s second movement played. This was right. So very right. She allowed the pleasure of his kiss to wrap around her.

  She tasted champagne as his tongue slicked along her lips, then slid between them to entwine with hers. The stab of desire deep within her was so strong all she could do was answer his unspoken demands and deepen the kiss. The world swayed and she wanted to reach out to him, to put her arms around his neck and press herself against his body. It felt wanton and wild but so very right.

  He let go of her abruptly, stepping back from her, the dim light of the apartment casting his face in shadow, making it impossible to read his emotions, his thoughts. All she could do was stand still, breathing deep and hard, her body pulsing with a hungry need that only he could satisfy.

  ‘Don’t stop, Lysandros.’ The words were husky, sounding very unlike her.

  ‘Rio.’ He said her name hoarsely, moving out of the shadows slightly, his gaze intensely focusing on her. ‘If I kiss you again I might not be able to stop. I will be in danger of breaking my promise that nothing will happen unless you want it to.’

  Her heart thudded. He wanted her, truly wanted her. The man she was engaged to wanted her as much as she wanted him. ‘You won’t be breaking that promise, Lysandros.’

  Rio could scarcely believe she was saying this. Lysandros was enabling her to be the woman she really wanted to be. She wanted Lysandros to be the man she gave her virginity to and she wanted it to happen now, here—tonight.

  ‘I want to kiss you, Rio, and so much more, but only if you really want that.’ His eyes were heavy with desire, his voice soft and seductive, melting her heart a bit more. He cared. Enough to consider what she’d told him, enough to recognise how big a moment this was for her. Enough to hold back, ask if it was what she really wanted.

  ‘I want that, Lysandros.’ Her whisper cracked with emotion, ratcheting up the tension surrounding them to unbearable levels. ‘I want you to kiss me.’ She faltered briefly, biting her lower lip, unused to admitting how she really felt. ‘I want more too. I want you.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ The raw desire in his voice didn’t quite conceal the doubt. ‘After everything you told me...’

  ‘I have never been more certain of anything.’ She stepped towards him, wanting to show him how ready for this she was, wanting to hide her innocence behind the bravado of being an experienced seductress. His desire filled her with the kind of power she’d never known, emboldening her, unlocking the woman within her. She wasn’t a nervous and inexperienced woman any longer. He’d changed that. He’d given her the confidence to free the woman within her.

  He stroked the backs of his fingers down her cheek and she had to fight against the urge to close her eyes, to lean into his touch. She needed to see his face, read the emotions in his eyes. ‘I promise you I will take it slowly.’

  Was her inexperience that obvious? Had he guessed she was a virgin? ‘Take me to your bed.’ It was all she could do to whisper those words as he moved so close to her his chest brushed against her breasts, heightening her state of arousal.

  ‘First another kiss.’ Before she could say anything his lips covered hers once more. His hands held her face, tilting her chin up gently, enabling his tongue to explore her, to entwine with hers, sending so much pleasure rushing around her she wondered if she’d be able to remain standing.

  Soft Greek words added to the tension around them as he pulled back from her, caressing her face again. She didn’t want to know what they meant. She wanted to pretend they were words of love, pretend that whatever it was happening between them was real, that she’d found her dream of a happy-ever-after.

  ‘I need more than a kiss,’ she teased, emboldened by rising desire.

  A slow, lazy and incredibly sexy smile spread across his lips, lighting the darkness of his eyes, allowing her to see the depths of passion within them. Her body trembled as his gaze slid down her, making her skin tingle as if he’d touched her.

  He looked up into her eyes, pulling at his bow tie, letting it fall to hang down, giving him that roguish appeal she hadn’t realised until now could be so erotic. Then he pulled off his jacket, dropping it behind him, still without breaking that powerful eye contact.

  She had the urge to move closer, to reach up and spread her hands over his chest, to unbutton the white shirt and reveal his body to her. She knew how muscled it was from their time on the yacht, knew how it felt to press herself against it as the sea had formed the only barrier between them. Now she wanted to feel every contour, to explore him so that she could remember this moment for ever.

  ‘If you want me to, I will do far more than kiss you,’ he said as he moved towards her, passion making him suddenly more dominant. She backed away until she met the keyboard of the piano, the keys jangling in discord as her palms pressed them as if she’d never played a note before in her life. It made her conscious that
her inexperienced body would be as much out of tune, that she was floundering in a sea of passion. Tasting the desire in the air, she bit her bottom lip, sure she was about to drown at any moment.

  Lysandros moved a little closer, and embarrassed by her moment of hesitation, she moved to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, curling her fingers into his thick hair as she looked up at him. No words were needed as she looked into his eyes before kissing him, forgetting her innocence, her fears and demanding so much more from him than just a kiss.

  He took her in his arms, a strange and wild tune playing as he moved her back against the keys, his kiss answering her demands instantly. In a flash of panic she remembered that Hans had done exactly this. It almost doused the passion. Almost. Until she reassured herself. This is right, what I want and so perfect. And it was right. It was perfect, and it was writing over that terrible moment, erasing it for ever.

  Lysandros deepened this kiss, sliding one side of her dress down off her shoulder, the tape attached to prevent her exposing herself inadvertently now completely ineffective against his demands. Her nipple hardened, her breast bare as he kissed a trail slowly down her throat then torturously slowly down her breast. She let go of him, grabbing at the piano, arching herself towards him as he took her hardened nipple in his mouth. It was pure ecstasy, so intense she almost couldn’t take it.

  ‘Lysandros.’ She gasped his name out, her breathing ragged with heady need.

  He looked up at her with desire-hazed eyes. ‘Do you want me to stop?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Is it nice?’

  ‘So nice.’ She didn’t even recognise her husky whisper. Her whole body was on fire, needing him, needing his kiss, his touch. She was losing control, losing the ability to think as her body demanded the satisfaction she knew instinctively only he could give her.

  ‘If I go too fast, tell me.’ His gaze held hers for a moment before his hand slid down her side, over her thigh, his lips returning to torment her nipple.

 

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