by Lynne Graham
'Oh… ' she moaned, melting like honey in sunlight while the wicked throb of helpless hunger shimmied down into her pelvis and made her ache. Plastered to every line of his big, powerful frame, she dragged her mouth free to snatch in a necessary gulp of oxygen while dimly her mind prompted her to recall an important ritual that she could not afford to overlook 'Your mobile…' she gasped.
Andreas tensed.
'It's me or the phone,' Hope reminded him reluctantly.
One-handed, Andreas wrenched the phone from his jacket, switched it off and tossed it down on the hall stand. He returned to plundering her mouth with devouring hunger and then wrenched himself back from her, dark colour scoring his aristocratic cheekbones. 'For once, we are going to be cool and make it out of the hall.'
Dazed by passion, Hope slowly nodded. With determination Andreas angled her away from the wall and backed her towards the bedroom. 'If I surrender my phone, you have to make it worth my while, pedhimou.'
'Oh…' Hope gazed back at him, soft mouth pink and tingling from the heat of his, her legs unsteady supports. The blaze of sexual challenge in his eyes imprisoned her as surely as a chain. A blinding wave of excitement sizzled through her. Andreas surveyed her with scorching satisfaction. He ran down the zip on her turquoise dress and shimmied it down over her hips to expose the pink lace bra and panties that moulded her ripe curves. He vented a husky masculine sound of appreciation. 'You're superb…'
Self-conscious colour flushed her cheeks and even burnished the slope of her full breasts. Scooping her up, he deposited her on the bed, his rare charismatic smile flashing across his lean dark features, and her heart leapt as though it had a life of its own.
'Don't move,' he told her with urgency.
'I'm not going anywhere,' she whispered, her attention locked to him like a magnet as he peeled off the tailored jacket of his business suit.
He looked sensational. Lithe, dark and arrestingly handsome, he emanated the prowling, lethal sexiness of a predator. Butterflies were fluttering in her tummy and she was on a helpless high of anticipation. But on another level, she suddenly discovered that she was fighting off a sense of shame that she should be lying on a bed in her underwear for his benefit. She had not been raised in a liberal home and when Andreas had come into her life she had not just thrown away the rulebook, she had virtually burned it. Did she mean anything to him? Or was what they had just a casual thing on his terms?
'Do you think about me when you're away?' Hope blurted out.
His shirt hanging loose on his bronzed muscular chest, Andreas came down on the bed and laughed out loud. 'After two weeks without sex?' he teased in his dark deep drawl. 'By this week, I was thinkiing about you at least once a minute!'
Hope flushed to the roots of her pale hair, hurt and disappointment scything through her that he should be so literal. 'That wasn't what I meant.'
Andreas hauled her up against him with strong hands, and golden eyes ablaze with arrogant confidence assailed hers. 'Don't ask a Greek trick questions,' he warned her. 'You're my lover. Of course I think about you.'
Without hesitation, he plundered her mouth and her uneasy thoughts blurred. Fire sparked low in her belly and a wave of tormenting hunger consumed her. Two weeks without Andreas felt like half a lifetime. Even as she doubted his commitment, she could not resist her need to take refuge in his passion. Her body was taut with sensitivity, begging for sensation. The expert caress of his hands on her breasts made her moan. The rosy buds crowning her tender flesh tingled and when he utilised his teeth and his tongue on those inflamed peaks, she writhed, control slipping from her as steadily as any form of rational awareness.
Her heart was racing, the breath catching in her dry throat. He was pure bronzed elemental male and he knew exactly what inflamed her. He found the hot, swollen secret at the heart of her and clever fingers drove her to ever more desperate heights of longing. The passion took over, roaring through her twisting, turning length like an explosive fireball.
'This is how I like to picture you,' Andreas rasped with raw satisfaction. 'Out of your mind with the pleasure I give you.'
He sank into her with ravishing force and her body leapt and clenched. The frenzy of excitement mastered her with terrifying immediacy. Delirious with desire, she was way beyond any hope of mastering the tempestuous surge of her responses. Her need for Andreas was almost painfully intense. His passion pushed her to a wild peak of unbearable pleasure and then she fell down and down and down into a state of turbulence that bore no resemblance to her usual languorous sense of peace and happiness. Her body was satisfied but her emotions were raw. Tears lashed her eyes and overflowed before she even knew what was happening to her.
Andreas rolled over onto his back. In the act of rearranging her on top of him, he pushed her hair gently off her face and his fingers lingered on her damp cheekbone. 'What's wrong?' he demanded.
'Nothing's wrong.' Hope gulped. 'I don't know why I'm crying. It's silly.'
Foreboding nudged at Andreas, who excelled at second-guessing those who surrounded him. She buried her head in his shoulder. He smoothed her hair. Handsome mouth taut, he closed his arms round her. If he were patient she would tell him what was wrong. She was quite incapable of keeping anything important from him. Her confiding habits were engrained, he reminded himself.
'I'm sorry…I suppose I've just come over all emotional thinking about our anniversary,' Hope mumbled in a muffled voice.
Lush black lashes lifted on guarded dark golden eyes. 'Anniversary?'
'Don't you know that in another few days we'll have been together for two whole years?' Hope lifted her tousled head, a happy smile of achievement on lips still swollen from his kisses. 'I want to celebrate it.'
Two years? His gaze narrowed, his lean, darkly handsome face impassive, concealing his stunned reaction to that news. Had she really been in his life that long? He was appalled that he had neglected to notice her staggering longevity. Two years? Marriages didn't last that long. When had she become the equivalent of a fixture? She had inserted herself into his daily routine with astounding subtlety. She was just… there. She didn't cling but the tendrils of her existence were as meshed with his as ivy round a tree. That was not an inspiring analogy. But when had he last slept with another woman? He squashed the instant sliver of guilt that even the thought ignited. He had been incredibly faithful to her. Acknowledging that reality set his even white teeth on edge. Inexplicable as it seemed to him, she had infiltrated his freedom like an invisible invading army and conditioned him in ways that were foreign to him. Angry surprise turned him to ice as though he were in the presence of the enemy. 'I'm not into anniversaries with women,' Andreas delivered, brilliant eyes dark as coals and diamond bright. 'I don't do the sentimental stuff.'
Hope could hardly breathe. She wanted to put her hand over his beautiful mouth and prevent him from saying anything more. She could not bear that he should fulfil any part of Vanessa's disparaging forecast, yet she was equally unable to let that laden silence lie. 'But it's special to me that you've been a part of my life for so long.'
Andreas shrugged a muscular bronzed shoulder and firmly lifted her off him. 'We have a good time together. I value you. But it would be inappropriate to celebrate an anniversary. That's not what we're about.'
Hope felt like someone tied to the railway tracks in front of an express train and the roar of the metal monster was his words crushing the dreams she had cherished and ripping apart her illusions. In one lithe, powerful movement, he sprang off the bed and headed into the bathroom. She lay there cold and shocked and shattered. In her presence he had changed from the guy she loved into an intimidating stranger with cold eyes and a harsh, unfeeling voice and he had pushed her away. She got up to pull on the ice-blue wrap lying on a nearby chair. But she was forced to sink back down onto the bed because her head was swimming. It was that stupid dizziness again, she thought wearily. Perhaps it was an ear infection that was interfering with her sense of balance.
>
I value you. What sort of a declaration was that?
That Andreas knew the exact extent of her worth? In terms of convenience? No, he didn't do sentimental but, perhaps more tellingly, he had not cared whether or not he wounded her feelings. He had to be very sure of her to put a blanket ban on even a minor celebration. Biting her lip and with a knot of fear forming inside her, Hope tightened the sash on her wrap. But anger was also slowly stirring out of the ashes of the hurt caused by his humiliating response to her perfectly innocent remarks.
Taut with angry, frustrated tension, Andreas leant back against the limestone wall in the power shower and let the water stream down over his magnificent bronzed body. Usually he was still in bed with Hope at this stage of the evening. His chill-out time with her had been wrecked. Taken by surprise, he had been tactless. He wanted to punch something. Their relationship was as near perfect as he had ever hoped to achieve on a casual basis. Hope never made unreasonable demands and appeared to have no greater ambition in life than to make him happy. And she was
bloody brilliant at making him happy, Andreas acknowledged grudgingly. He did not want to lose her. But what did he do with a mistress who did not know she was a mistress? A mistress who wanted to celebrate anniversaries as if she were a wife? Theosmou… He winced. What had come over her?
Most probably, Andreas reasoned with a surge of fierce resentment, Hope's shrewish friend, Vanessa, was responsible. Was it she who had destroyed Hope's sunny contentment? Who else could it have been? Once or twice Hope had repeated Vanessa's revealingly acidic remarks about men. Andreas had gained the distinct impression that Hope's best friend would fry him alive in hot oil if she ever got the chance. That his association with Hope should be so misjudged and so undervalued outraged Andreas. He was proud of the way he treated Hope. He looked after her. She was a very happy woman. Why? He kept all the nasty realities of life at bay. He even made her dreams come true. Although she had no suspicion of the fact, eighteen months earlier it had been his influence that had won her a place on a design course at a leading art college. Thanks to him she had since graduated and begun fashioning handbags that he was secretly convinced no sane woman would ever wish to buy. He had a shuddering recollection of the one shaped like a ripe tomato. But the point was, Hope was cheerfully content…or, at least, she had been until the serpent had entered Eden.
Andreas was towelling himself dry when Hope entered the bathroom. She drew in a slow, deep breath to steady herself and fixed turquoise blue eyes bravely on him. 'So if we can't have anniversaries, what can we have?'
Six feet four inches tall, black hair still wet from the shower and crystalline drops of water still sparkling on the ebony curls defining his powerful pectoral muscles, Andreas froze. He had not expected a second assault in that line. The first had been startling enough. Winged ebony brows drew together. 'I don't believe I follow…'
Hope realised that there was a lump in her throat, a lump that was swelling with every second that passed with the threat of tears. 'I…I suppose I'm asking is this it for you and me?'
'Clarify that,' Andreas instructed in the cool tone he used in the office to make underlings jump. But his dark golden eyes shimmered with intensity. He could not credit the idea but for a split second he wondered if she was threatening to dump him.
'Once you told me that nothing stays the same and that everything must progress,' Hope reminded him unsteadily. 'You said that the things that remain static wither and die. Yet from what I can see, in the last two years we haven't changed at all.'
Right there and then, Andreas decided that in the future it would be wiser to keep all words of wisdom on the score of goal-orientated achievement targets and healthy change to himself.
Every word Hope spoke came from her heart and nothing was pre-planned or judged for its effect. She was very upset. Horribly conscious of his cool distance, she was desperate to make sense of what was happening between them. She needed the reassurance of finding out exactly where she stood with the man she loved.
'So what about us?' Hope continued half under her breath, doggedly pushing the question out, refusing to surrender to her inner fears. 'Are we going anywhere?'
Incredulous that Hope should be subjecting him to such an onslaught, Andreas snatched in a charged breath and reached for her with determined hands. Gathering her small, curvaceous body to him, he reclaimed her mouth in a fierce, sweet invasion that left her quivering with disconcertion. 'Back to bed?' he murmured with hungry intent as he finally lifted his arrogant dark head.
Her pale face flamed as though he had slapped her.
Indeed she felt as though he might as well have done, for she was bitterly ashamed that he had found it so easy to distract her. 'Is that my answer? I want to feel like I'm part of your life, not just someone you sleep with,' she confided painfully.
Golden eyes ablaze with displeasure, Andreas spread lean brown hands wide in emphasis. 'You are part of my life!'
'If that's true, why do I never get to meet your friends?' Her voice was rising with stress in spite of her efforts to keep it level. 'Are you ashamed of me?' she gasped strickenly.
'When we're together, I prefer to keep you to myself, pedhi mou. I won't apologise for that,' Andreas fielded smoothly. 'Calm yourself. You're getting hysterical!'
'I'm not…I'm just fighting with you!'
Andreas dealt her a stony appraisal. 'I won't fight with you.'
'Is that something else you're not into?' Hope heard herself hurl in shock at her own daring. Backing away from him, she jarred her hip painfully on a corner of the vanity unit behind her.
'Are you hurt?' Lean, strong face taut, Andreas strode forward.
In the room next door the phone started ringing.
The untimely interruption made Andreas swear in exasperated Greek, but Hope was grateful for the excuse to escape and answer the call.
'Get me Andreas,' Elyssa Southwick's imperious voice demanded.
'Hold on, please,' Hope said gruffly.
If Elyssa couldn't raise Andreas on his mobile phone when he was in London, she called the apartment instead. The Nicolaidis siblings were close, for their parents had died when Elyssa was barely a teenager. Still only in her mid twenties, Elyssa leant heavily on her big brother for support. The young Greek woman, however, seemed to have no inkling of Hope's identity, for she always spoke to Hope as though she were a servant on telephone duty.
Andreas accepted the phone Hope extended. But his attention was on Hope, who looked like glass about to shatter, her warm blue eyes cast down and her generous mouth taut with strain. He was furious with her. Why was she doing this to them? The phone dialogue continued in Greek. Hope understood the gist of it for she had been learning the language at night class for many months and had planned to surprise Andreas with her proficiency. Elyssa was reminding her brother that she was throwing a housewarming party the next week. Hope left the room.
Of course, she would not be invited to the party.
Andreas was in no hurry to take her out and show her off. Was that because he was only using her for sex? Easy, uncomplicated sex with a woman who had been weak and foolish enough to give herself freely on that basis from the very outset of their acquaintance? How could she complain on that score when Andreas had never promised anything else and she had never had the courage to ask for anything more?
Pure anguish threatened to take hold of Hope. She wanted to weep and wail like a soul in torment and the power of her own distraught emotions scared her. Her mouth wobbled and she pinned it flat. Terrified as she was of breaking down while Andreas was still in the apartment, she fought to keep a lid on all distressing thoughts.
But her mind marched on with relentless cruelty.
Andreas thought nothing of making love over and over again. He was all Greek, an unashamedly passionate guy with an insatiably high libido. But he was more into work than leisure and a woman who required little in terms of romance or attention was a necessity. No doubt, she suited h
im on those scores. She had always tried to be independent. She didn't create a fuss when he was late or business kept him from her. She had accepted her backstage role in his life.
Why? Andreas was so much what she was not and never could be. It was not that she suffered from low self-esteem; simply that she could not ignore or forget the reality that Andreas outranked her in so many ways. He was the gorgeous, sophisticated product of a world of immense privilege and even more immense wealth. If it rained on a summer day, he thought he was suffering and he had once flown her halfway across the world to spend three hours on a hot beach. He was highly educated and shockingly clever. Far too clever for his own good, she had often thought, she recalled ruefully, for he was a perfectionist, obsessively driven to achieve, but rarely satisfied even by superlative results.
What had she to offer in comparison? Basic schooling, an ordinary background and at best what she deemed to be only average looks and intelligence. How could she ever have dared to dream that some day he might fall in love with her? Or that he might eventually choose to offer her a more secure place in his life? But she had been guilty of harbouring exactly those dreams. She loved Andreas, she loved him a great deal, and right from the beginning that had been a handicap to any form of restraint or common sense.
Hope tilted up her chin as if she was bracing herself. Andreas might be satisfied with the current status quo, but she needed to have a good hard think about whether or not she could cope with a relationship that had no future. And presumably none of the commitment she had taken for granted that she already had. Her tummy flipped. She felt sick at the very idea that she might have to walk away from Andreas. But if she meant nothing more to him than a casual bed partner, wasn't that her only option?