by Annie West
That was when he saw the glitter of tears staining her cheeks and he wrapped his arms around her, his chest turning over.
‘Don’t cry, glyka mou. It’s okay. I’ll make it okay.’
He hadn’t hurt her. He was sure he hadn’t. Yet he stilled.
Amelie’s eyes opened and he stared into brilliant, overfull pools of green. Her dark lashes were spiked and wet. But she managed a tremulous smile and feathered one shaky hand across his lips in a caress that tugged at long-hoarded emotions in his locked heart.
‘It’s more than okay, Lambis. I didn’t know anything could feel like this.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘I know it’s only sex,’ she whispered, ‘but you make me feel...’ She shook her head, her lips firming, leaving him wondering just how he made her feel.
He didn’t wonder long for she leaned in and kissed him, slowly, thoroughly, gratefully, and he felt the most uncommon sensations rise and whirl about him.
Then she was rocking against him, partly drawn by his insistent hands, but following a rhythm all her own. Lambis bucked up in time with each swing of her hips, rejoicing in the little circling movement she made that prolonged the ecstasy of their joining.
Still she kissed him, her hands cupping his face, her mouth sharing choked little mews of feminine satisfaction that had to be the sweetest, most erotic sound.
Lambis urged her faster, and she complied with that little shimmy of her hips that drove him harder and wilder against her. Till finally he could take no more, despite his determination to please her first. His climax erupted monumentally, throbbing so hard his head whirled at the euphoria of losing himself inside Amelie. He grabbed the back of her head, kissing her with such passion he shook with it. Then he felt the clutch of her orgasm around him and the bliss of it undid him.
* * *
Lambis lay on his back watching the first grey-pink light of dawn creep across the room. Amelie lay in his arms, her thick blonde hair draped like silk over his chest and shoulders, her body sprawled across him.
Through the evening and the night that followed they’d been insatiable. One touch, one soft sigh had been all it took for his libido to fire and, to his delight, Amelie had been just as eager.
Was it because neither had had a recent lover?
He found her long celibacy incredible. Despite her demure façade, Amelie was highly sexed, a woman who gave her all to a lover.
She wasn’t the woman he’d imagined her. His first impression, apart from instant interest and just as instant lust, was that Amelie was charming but reserved, caring of her family and dutiful. He remembered her sweet diffidence as she’d suggested he stay on in St Galla so they could explore the attraction between them.
Somehow he’d never recognised the fire in her. The Amelie he’d begun to know in Greece was more like a firecracker, gunpowder hidden inside a decorative casing. Her temper, the way she’d refused to take no for an answer about getting him to help her nephew, had surprised. He was used to seeing her easy smile and diplomacy as she helped her brother manage his kingdom. Her love for her family had cemented the idea of her as a nurturer.
Her sexual passion had been a revelation, as had her stark honesty. His mind still reeled with some of the things she’d revealed.
Lambis’s mouth tightened when he recalled her tears as they’d made love. It was easy to ascribe them to an excess of passion, to the shock of ecstasy after long celibacy. But it was more. Despite her feisty determination, Amelie was vulnerable. She grieved for her brother and on top of that worried over Sébastien.
Lambis’s conscience warned he should back off. He was taking advantage of her when she was needy.
Yet, despite the grate of his conscience, he couldn’t pull back. For so long he’d lived in his bleak, lonely world. It was where he deserved to be, of course. But now Amelie had smashed down the wall cutting him off from the world, it was beyond him to rebuild it.
Soon. He’d do it soon. A principled man would pull away from her, knowing she was better off without him. But Lambis had long ago faced the truth that he was brutally flawed. It wasn’t right, but he’d take what he could from her, live this bright brief moment of pleasure.
He tugged the sheet up her bare back, lingering at the sweet indentation of her waist. So slender and supple yet strong. Amelie had been a miracle in his arms, reminding him how poignantly beautiful life could be.
He’d forgotten that in the years since he’d lost Delia and Dimitri. Pain and guilt had cast a pall over even his most precious memories. But, spending time with Amelie and Sébastien, Lambis had begun to remember the joy that had once been so intrinsic in his world. How caring and being cared for could transform you.
Lambis looked down at Amelie’s head, nestled trustingly on his chest. Dawn light gilded her straight hair, as if reminding him she was beyond his reach, even if for this brief time she shared herself with him.
Amelie deserved better. Far better than Jules, the man who’d seduced then betrayed her. The thought of him made Lambis clench his teeth in thwarted anger. But he was no better. She needed someone who’d stand at her side, supporting, protecting and loving.
Once Lambis might have been that man. But not now. He was a shell of the man he’d believed himself to be.
‘Don’t stop.’ The words were a gentle breath across his bare chest.
‘I woke you? I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.’ She’d need it after the hours they’d spent awake through the night.
For answer Amelie stretched, arching her back and pressing her breasts against him. Her smooth thigh slid across his legs and inevitably his half erect shaft stirred.
Lambis tried to focus on the stack of work waiting for his attention. The recruitment drive in the US, the potential problem with the big job in Russia—
‘But I’m wide awake.’ His eyes snapped open as Amelie lifted her head. Something shifted hard inside his chest as her slightly unfocused gaze met his. Something that was more than lust, though that was part of it.
Tenderness, desire and possessiveness surged in a potent mix he hadn’t a hope of stopping, though it scared him witless. He hadn’t felt anything so profound since—
‘Lambis? Are you all right?’
Amelie’s hair was a rumpled halo, her lips a sultry pout that was too enticing for a man trying to do the decent thing and rein in his apparently unstoppable libido. She must be sore after last night yet Lambis found himself stroking her supple flanks, letting his touch dip to explore her breasts.
Instantly those bright eyes glazed with a heat that matched the fire stirring in his loins.
‘Very all right,’ he growled.
And Amelie, the precious Princess he’d once thought as cosseted and delicate as a porcelain figurine, leaned up and whispered in his ear exactly how she’d like to celebrate the new day.
Seconds later she was on her back beneath him, smiling as he settled between her thighs. Ruthlessly Lambis banished his troubled conscience and focused on giving them both what they so desired.
* * *
‘This was a brilliant idea, Lambis.’ Amelie grinned and sat back beneath the vine-covered pergola. Dappled sunlight played across her features, already obscured by the dark glasses she’d insisted on wearing for their excursion into the village. ‘I’m glad you persuaded me it was safe to come.’
‘I wouldn’t have suggested it if I hadn’t known you’d be safe from the press.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m glad you like it. It’s very simple.’
‘But lovely.’ Her gesture took in the plain wooden tables and rush-bottomed chairs in the small outdoor space where they were now the only customers, and the small harbour a few steps away. ‘Even the boats are picturesque, and the colour of the water.’ She sighed and leaned back, sipping her tiny cup of coffee. ‘No wonder you wanted to have your home on the island.’
Ridiculous, but Lambis felt his smile grow at her enthusiasm. To many he knew, the quiet, unspoiled island would be too unsophisticated, too boring.
Amelie seemed to thrive
on it. As for excitement, the closest she got were nights in his bed as he devoted himself to her. Nights filled with such potent pleasure he was hooked on the thrill of watching Amelie gasp out her completion in his arms, her beautiful eyes wide with awe. And, of course, to the rapture he himself found with his generous, sensual lover.
Lambis even felt a proprietorial pleasure at the way she’d developed a taste for Greek coffee, strong, short and pungently aromatic. And the way she’d eaten the plain village fare, with an easy relish that endeared her to the few locals who’d nodded their greeting.
He’d always known Amelie was genuine, but previously he’d only seen her in a royal setting, in that fanciful pale pink and white palace surrounded by its perfectly manicured grounds. There she drank from crystal and finest porcelain, surrounded by treasured antiques. Today she’d laughed, licking her fingers as oil dripped from the bread she’d used to mop up her plate.
The woman he’d come to know here was disarmingly frank, genuine and easy to please.
‘Lambis!’
He blinked, diverted from thoughts of the many ways he enjoyed pleasing her.
‘What is it?’
‘Look at Seb.’ Her whispered excitement was unmistakable. He whipped his head round to where Seb viewed the small fishing boats drawn up along the harbour. Lambis had been keeping an eye on him until thoughts of Amelie, naked in his bed, distracted him.
His shoulders relaxed as he saw Seb nodding at another boy about the same age who was speaking to him.
‘He talked,’ Amelie murmured. ‘To a stranger!’
Lambis was unprepared for the blast of relief and excitement that rocked him as Sébastien smiled and spoke to the other kid. ‘Didn’t I tell you he’d be okay?’ Till now, the boy had spoken rarely and, despite his optimism in front of Amelie, Lambis had harboured fears about the child’s full recovery. ‘Those experts were right. He just needs time.’
Slender fingers closed over his, yanking his attention back to Amelie. ‘Time and somewhere he feels safe and unpressured. You’ve provided that. Thank you.’
‘It was nothing.’ He hadn’t done anything special. It was she who’d fought for her nephew’s recovery, not him. ‘Here he gets to practice his Greek.’
The kid understood not only his father’s native French but his mother’s Greek as well as English, which was St Galla’s second language. Suddenly it struck Lambis that unless he took a hand, Sébastien would lose the Greek his mother had taught him.
‘Perhaps he could come back to Greece occasionally.’
Amelie’s smile widened and instantly Lambis’s pulse quickened. ‘What a wonderful offer. Thank you. I’m sure he’d love visiting your island again.’ Her hand squeezed his. ‘You two have a special bond and that’s strengthened since we came here.’ Lambis watched her expression still. ‘One day you’ll make a wonderful father.’
As quickly as that the bright day dimmed. His stomach hollowed and metallic despair filled his mouth.
Lambis yanked his hand free. He couldn’t see Amelie’s eyes for the dark glasses but he read her voice—warm and approving.
He shuddered in denial.
The old wellspring of pain erupted, drenching him in icy ripples. ‘I’ll never be a father!’
* * *
Amelie stared as Lambis’s face transformed. That hint of an indulgent smile, just turning up the corners of his mouth, vanished as his lips flattened. His skin somehow pared back, leaving his proud features angular and harsh, those black brows angling down in a frown that was nothing short of forbidding.
Fear rose as suddenly as a summer squall and she snapped her gaze around to check Seb. He was fine, sitting a few metres away in the sun, intent on what looked like a game of marbles.
She pressed a palm to her racing heart, trying to quell anxiety.
‘Lambis? Are you all right?’ Stupid question. Of course he wasn’t all right. He looked like he had when she’d turned up unannounced at his mountain home—ruthlessly distant. Except she could read him better now and what she saw spoke of pain.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.’ Though how she had she didn’t know. ‘I don’t expect you to act as a surrogate father to Seb.’ Though, no matter how hard she tried, she hadn’t been able to douse that fantasy of her, Seb and Lambis together. She forced a tentative smile. ‘I just meant—’
‘You don’t need to explain. I’m not offended.’
Yet something had happened. It was there in the way Lambis sat, ramrod straight, where before he’d lounged, relaxed and happy. His stormy eyes avoided hers.
Pain sliced through her. This last week they’d grown closer. She’d thought he trusted her.
She’d imagined that because they shared their bodies...
‘Good.’ She forced a bright smile as she pushed her cup aside. ‘I think it’s time Seb and I—’
‘Leave the boy. It will do him good being with another kid.’ Lambis’s voice was gruff. Then his eyes met hers and her shoulders slammed back in her seat at the force of his bleak expression. ‘There’s nothing wrong. I just...’ He shook his head in a tiny, impatient gesture. ‘I won’t ever have children. Didn’t Irini tell you?’
Amelie shook her head. ‘Irini never gossiped.’ Except to say Lambis had had a difficult past. Amelie had never imagined that referred to an inability to father children.
‘Ah.’ Lambis nodded and turned his attention to the boys playing nearby. ‘I had a son once,’ he said quietly, the words strung taut and low. ‘And a wife too. But they died.’
Such simple, straightforward words. But the power of them sucked Amelie dry. She stared into Lambis’s lifeless eyes. They stared blindly back and she guessed he didn’t see her but the family he’d lost. A great gulf opened up inside her. It was as if an unseen force ripped her apart.
‘I’m so very sorry, Lambis.’ She leaned towards him, feeling the terrible inadequacy of mere speech, but needing to express her sympathy.
He nodded briefly. ‘It was a long time ago.’ Yet obviously it haunted him. How could it not?
Amelie ached with the need to touch him, to put her arms around him and draw him close. Not as a prelude to sex, but to offer that most basic comfort, a human touch, a reminder that someone cared.
Now she understood a little that withdrawn look she’d witnessed in the mountains.
To lose both a wife and child—it must have been some terrible accident. Having just lost her brother and sister-in-law so suddenly, she had some concept of what Lambis was going through. But she couldn’t begin to understand what it was like to lose a child and a life partner.
Amelie swallowed, the movement convulsive. She had no more words.
His eyes met hers and this time he focused on her, so intently she felt the blood rise in her cheeks. ‘I could never go through that again. I’ll never marry or have another child.’
Dumbly, Amelie nodded, mind racing. Was that why Lambis had rejected her before? It seemed likely, especially as they’d proved since how compatible they were.
So much made sense—his initial diffidence with Seb, never unfriendly but never actively encouraging the boy, until that day on the beach when he’d seen the extent of Seb’s distress. She wondered if it also explained why Lambis had relegated that beautiful, moving icon of mother and child to a guest room where he wouldn’t see it. How could he look at it and not remember all he’d lost?
She hadn’t thought it was possible to feel more pain than she had recently, but she did. It welled like a high summer tide, washing away her fragile hopes.
But her pain was nothing to Lambis’s. Impulsively she shoved her chair back and got up, reaching for his fist, clenched so tight it quivered in her hold.
‘Come on, Lambis. Let’s walk. You promised to show us the little chapel at the end of the harbour.’ Anything, surely, was better than watching him brood over the past.
She couldn’t wipe away his hurt but she could at least distract him.
Beyond t
hat, she could only share with him all the tenderness she felt until it was time for her and Seb to leave.
That would be the toughest part, she realised as Lambis got to his feet, his hand still in hers. For as he towered over her, that awful blankness still masking his features, Amelie realised something she’d gone to enormous lengths to avoid thinking about.
She loved Lambis Evangelos.
She’d never stopped loving him.
And while his heart was held by a dead woman there was no chance he’d come to love her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘YOU’RE SURE THERE’S nothing wrong, Enide?’ Amelie stared from Lambis’s bedroom to the matchless view of sea and sky and perfect crescent beach. What was it about this conversation with her elderly relative that concerned her? She couldn’t put her finger on it.
‘Everything’s under control. Now go and relax. And give Seb a cuddle for me. I’m so pleased to hear he’s speaking again.’
‘Not very much though.’ Amelie bit her lip, wondering if she should risk returning with him to St Galla yet. Since hearing Lambis’s story she couldn’t help but suspect being around Seb was too close a reminder of the child he’d lost. ‘Perhaps, after all, in his own home—’
‘No!’ Enide’s vehemence surprised her. ‘No, stay where you are a little longer. Why risk his recovery when he’s doing well in Greece? Give the poor child time to recuperate. You could do with a longer break too.’
Enide’s words made sense, yet Amelie couldn’t shake the instinct that something was awry. ‘Enide, I—’
‘I’m sorry, Amelie. I really need to dash or I’ll be late for a function. We’ll talk later, yes?’
Before Amelie could respond, the line went dead, leaving her pondering. Her elegant, super-organised cousin Enide never dashed. She was never late. She was a stickler for punctuality and protocol, hiding her kind heart behind a cool exterior.
Amelie considered ringing back, but surely, if something was wrong, Enide would tell her. She’d been a brick, her quiet presence steadying Amelie when her whole world shattered.
‘Everything okay?’ Lambis’s low voice encircled her as he entered the room. His arm slid around her waist from behind and instantly she melted against him, her pulse notching faster.