In Christofides' Keeping

by Abby Green

That night Gypsy slept fitfully. She’d checked on Lola after dinner, but had been too restless to go to sleep straight away. It had seemed crazy to stay confined to her bedroom just to avoid Rico. Remembering the pool and how enticing it had looked, and the fact that it was heated, had encouraged her to think she might exercise herself to exhaustion.

  It was only when she had been on the brink of walking into the pool area that she’d heard a sound and seen powerful arms scissoring in and out of the water. Mesmerised, half hidden behind a big plant, Gypsy had watched with bated breath as Rico had stopped and floated lazily on his back.

  He had been completely naked. His long sleek body illuminated only by the moonlight and a few dim spotlights. Nearly tripping in her haste to get away before he saw her, Gypsy had fled back up to her room, knowing that nothing would be able to eradicate that potent image from her brain.

  Now she’d woken again, and flipped onto her back, sighing heavily. She thought she’d heard a mewl come from Lola, but wasn’t sure if it had been a dream or not. She got up to investigate, just in case.

  At the doorway to Lola’s room Gypsy felt her breath stop when her eyes registered the sight before her. Rico was asleep on a chair in the corner, his long jean-clad legs spread out before him, wearing a worn T-shirt which he must have pulled on after his swim. Powerful arms cradled the sleeping form of Lola to his chest.

  Lola’s legs were curled up and her thumb was in her mouth, her other hand curled trustingly on Rico’s chest. For a second Gypsy feared she might cry out, so intense was the emotion ripping through her.

  Controlling herself with an effort, she could see that though Rico might be asleep he must be uncomfortable. On bare feet she padded over and, bending down, barely breathing, carefully started to put her hands underneath Lola to lift her up.

  Immediately Rico’s hands tensed in an instinctively protective gesture, and his eyes snapped open. Silently Gypsy communicated with him, and willed down the response of her body to his proximity, suddenly very aware of her short nightdress.

  Relaxing his hold, Rico let Gypsy lift Lola away. Her legs went weak as her hands felt the hard contours of Rico’s chest. Carefully she stepped back and placed Lola down into the cot, pulling a blanket over her, and prayed that Rico would be gone when she turned around.

  But he wasn’t. He was sitting forward, elbows on his knees, looking at her with slumberous eyes. One lock of midnight-black hair had fallen over his forehead. Hot all over, Gypsy backed away to her bedroom and watched with widening eyes as Rico stood up and prowled towards her.

  Taking her by the hand, he put a finger to her mouth before she could say anything and looked at Lola. Gypsy nodded and let him lead her out. Her heart palpitated at the thought that he’d come through her bedroom to get to Lola, having obviously heard the same cry she’d heard earlier.

  Expecting him to let her go now they were out of Lola’s room, with the door pulled behind them, Gypsy tried to pull her hand away—but Rico wouldn’t let go. She looked up, and all she could see were two burning pools of stormy grey.

  She knew that look. She ached for that look. She’d seen that look in dreams for two years. But even so she shook her head. The need to protect herself against this final capitulation was strong. She opened her mouth to speak, but Rico put his finger there again and came close, backing her against the wall and pressing close, so close that Gypsy couldn’t think. All she could see was that image of him naked in the pool. Heat exploded low in her belly.

  His voice was low and sultry. ‘This is inevitable—as inevitable as it was that night two years ago. We’ve both been waiting for this…wanting this…’

  Gypsy shook her head again, futilely, and Rico speared his hands through her hair either side of her face, his thumbs on her jaw.

  ‘You’re mine, Gypsy, and there will be no more waiting. Your body tells me what you refuse to.’

  And he bent his head and kissed her passionately, tipping her head back so that he could stab deep with his tongue. Desire was instant and overwhelming. Gypsy didn’t have a hope. She was a bundle of vulnerabilities, and at every turn this man was only making her feel more vulnerable, giving her little to cling onto in the way of protection.

  Feeling impotent, and angry at her weakness, Gypsy fought fire with fire. Stroking Rico’s tongue with hers, she exulted in his hitched breath as he recognised her capitulation.

  Gypsy’s hands came to his T-shirt and snaked underneath. She needed to feel his chest. Moving her hands over him, she felt how his belly contracted when she scraped her nails over the smooth skin and moved higher, through the covering of hair, finding the blunt nipples.

  Impatient to see him, she pulled at the T-shirt. He ripped it off completely. He bent down for a second, and Gypsy felt herself being lifted into his arms and carried to the bed before Rico put her down again, sliding her down his body so that her nightdress rode up over her thighs.

  She tried to move back, but with his hands on her waist he wouldn’t let her budge. His eyes were burning down into hers. She couldn’t look away, and felt heat flood her cheeks when he rocked his hips against her and she could feel the thrust of his erection against his jeans and her belly.

  Liquid heat seeped between her legs and Gypsy squirmed. Breathless, she reached up and wound her arms around his neck, searching for and finding his mouth, savouring the firm fullness of his lower lip. His big hands moved to her bottom, underneath her pants, which he pushed down as he caressed her, coming back up over the indent of her waist and pulling her nightdress upwards.

  For a split second Gypsy hesitated, her pants around her thighs and her nightdress bunched up just under her breasts. And then, with a deep shaky breath, she lifted her arms and let Rico pull it up and off all the way. Dimly, she knew he would not deviate from his mission. And the clamour in her own pulse told her that, no matter what she might protest, she was as hungry for this as he was.

  She felt her hair fall down over her shoulders, and watched as Rico reached out to twine the strands around his hand. She brought up her hands to cover her breasts and he smiled down at her wolfishly. ‘It’s a bit late for modesty, don’t you think?’

  Gypsy bit her lip. Rico bent down and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Shuddering, she let her head fall back, and she felt his hands come to her pants, pushing them down her legs completely.

  She was barely aware of him taking something out of his jeans pocket before she heard the button snap and the zip come down. They were gone, and he stood before her naked and proud.

  Unable to stop herself, she let her gaze drop almost greedily. A part of her balked at his size, despite having been with him before, but another part thrilled.

  Hoarsely Rico said, ‘Touch me, Gypsy…please…’

  She reached out and closed one hand around his length, feeling a shudder go through his big frame. She’d touched him like this on that first night too. He moved closer, put his hand to the back of her head, and while she kept her hand on him, moving up and down, he tipped her face up to his and kissed her.

  He trailed his other hand down her body, caressing the side of one breast, its full outline, causing her own hand to stop momentarily. Then he continued down over her waist and her belly.

  Mouths fused, Gypsy groaned deeply when she felt his hand seek between her legs, pushing them apart, stroking through her curls to where she burned wetly for him. Her hand stopped moving on him again for a moment when she felt the slide of his fingers along her wetness, slipping inside.

  Her body clenched in an automatic reaction.

  He tore his mouth away and said harshly, ‘Dio. How could I have forgotten how responsive you are…?’

  Gypsy made a soft mewl. She ached all over. Her breasts throbbed, their peaks so tight and hard they almost hurt.

  As if sensing her building agitation, Rico took her hand from him and pushed her back onto the bed. ‘Gypsy, I don’t know if I can go slowly…’

  She lifted her head, feeling all at once slumberou
s and wide awake. Half incoherent with lust, she replied, ‘I don’t want slow.’

  She vaguely heard the ripping of a packet before he was back between her legs, hair-roughened chest crushing her breasts. Blindly she drew up her legs and reached for his buttocks, her hands feathering along his hips.

  He put one arm under her back, arching her up to him, and as he thrust into her he bent and sucked one nipple deep. Gypsy had to bite her hand to stop crying out loud.

  With his steady thrusts, past and present mingled into one moment for Gypsy. She’d always thought she’d imbued their night together with something more than it was. That it couldn’t possibly have been as earth-shattering as she remembered.

  But what was happening now was even more than she remembered. Little fires danced all over her skin. Sweat dewed her body. She burned and ached at the same time for the elusive pinnacle. Her hips moved in tandem with Rico’s. He was a master of torture, bringing them close, only to pull back again. Constantly hovering near the edge.

  Close to emotional tears that she didn’t have the strength to hide, Gypsy husked, ‘Rico, please…’

  And finally, unleashing his full awe-inspiring power, Rico gave in to the devil inside him and drove Gypsy over the shattering edge before letting himself fall behind her.

  After a brief respite, it was Gypsy who turned to Rico and started to press tiny kisses all down his chest and hard belly. He tensed as she found that rapidly recovering part of him and took him into her mouth.

  Sucking in a breath of pure arousal, struggling to retain control, he reached down to pull her away before she made him explode completely. Drawing her up so that she straddled him, he shifted her with big hands on her hips so that her hot, wet core slid down on him, encircling him in that tight heat.

  With his legs bent, Rico clenched his jaw not to come just at the sight of Gypsy finding her rhythm, sliding up and down his shaft, which felt fuller and harder than he could ever remember. His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs flicking her nipples, before he came up to take one and then the other into his mouth.

  In some dim recess of his mind, as her movements became more frantic, as she pushed him back and bent down over his chest to press a kiss to his mouth, her hard nipples scraping against his chest, Rico knew that any hope he’d had that their night together hadn’t been as stupendous as in his memory was blown to smithereens. Because it had just been eclipsed.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘I KNOW when you’re awake, Gypsy. You go very still and your breathing changes. I was aware of it every moment you lay pretending to sleep in Buenos Aires.’

  Gypsy opened her eyes and met Rico’s grey ones. Her heart thudded painfully and her cheeks flooded with colour. She couldn’t bear to think of how wanton she’d been last night. Or how easily she’d capitulated.

  He was propped up on one elbow. The curtains were open and she saw that he was cleanshaven and wearing a white shirt and jeans. Panic gripped her, and she would have thrown back the cover but remembered that she was naked.

  ‘What time is it? Where’s Lola?’

  ‘She’s dressed and downstairs, with Agneta and her grandson. He’s the same age.’

  Gypsy looked at him suspiciously. ‘You changed her nappy?’

  Rico grimaced. ‘Yes, after a few attempts.’

  Something in Gypsy’s insides melted but she fought it. ‘I should get up.’

  Rico leaned back and put his hands behind his head. ‘Go ahead. I’m not stopping you.’

  Gypsy bit out, ‘I’m naked.’

  He said with a mock-lascivious leer, ‘I know.’ And then more seriously, when she didn’t move, ‘Are you telling me that after last night you feel modest?’

  Gypsy all but groaned, and went even redder. Her hands clenched on the sheet and she looked around desperately for something to cover up. Taking pity on her, Rico got off the bed and went to the bathroom, coming back with a robe. He wouldn’t turn around, though, and watched mockingly as Gypsy contorted herself to get into the robe without revealing anything of her body.

  Her body upon which she could already see the marks of having been made love to. Eventually she stood up, but gasped when Rico grabbed the lapels of the robe and pulled her into him.

  She looked up, her belly spasming treacherously. ‘Rico, we can’t—not here, now…’

  ‘As much as I’m looking forward to making love to you again, Gypsy, I won’t right now. What I am going to say is this: I don’t want to hear one word of regret or recrimination. You’ll be moved into my rooms as of today, and Lola will be set up in the suite adjoining mine.’

  Gypsy went to speak, but Rico cut off whatever she was about to say when his mouth slanted over hers and he took advantage of her open mouth. Within seconds the flames of passion rose around them, and before Gypsy knew it Rico had stopped kissing her and she was clinging helplessly to his T-shirt. She saw the burning intent in his eyes and it made her tremble in response. How could she deny that she wanted this too, after last night? She’d be the worst kind of liar.

  Amidst the desire heating her blood trickled something cold, though—Rico was just controlling her, dominating her exactly as he’d been doing all along. It made her say now, as she stepped back and willed her legs to hold her up, ‘I won’t say anything about regret or recrimination, but I want to keep my own room. We have a baby monitor. If I go to you we can still hear if Lola wakes up.’

  Rico trailed one finger down over her flushed cheek and spoke musingly. ‘Still so sure that you have something to be afraid of?’

  Gypsy bit back the words trembling on her lips. She did have something to be very afraid of—and it had to do with the fact that the thought of inviting such intimacy with Rico was terrifying to her equilibrium. What was left of it.

  Rico said now, ‘Fine—have it your way. As long as you’re in my bed every night…or I’m in yours…the geographics aren’t important.’

  And over the next two weeks Rico proved that Gypsy’s independent stance was really just a mockery. If he went to her bed he didn’t leave till the morning, and then usually only to stroll provocatively naked across the hall to his own room. And if she woke in his bed he wouldn’t let her leave easily. So invariably all they were doing was using their own rooms to change and wash.

  Even more disturbing, when she saw Rico return from work in the evenings on the days he went to Athens, she was aware of a spreading warmth she couldn’t dampen down, no matter how much she tried.

  It emanated right from her heart outwards, and it encompassed Rico now, as he strolled out to the terrace where she played with Lola as the sun set over the sea in the background.

  ‘Kalispera, mi pequeña,’ he said, before plucking Lola up and planting a kiss to both cheeks, which had her giggling delightedly.

  ‘You’ll confuse her with two different languages,’ Gypsy mock-scolded, slightly breathless at the way her body responded to the hot look Rico gave her. In that moment a part of her yearned for him to come and kiss her too, and she hated that she did. Wanting that kind of intimate display of affection was dangerous, because it meant she wanted more.

  ‘Nonsense,’ Rico dismissed arrogantly. ‘She’s my daughter therefore she is of above average intelligence and will be bilingual by the time she’s three.’

  Gypsy’s heart thumped so hard for a moment that she put her hand up to her chest, afraid Rico might hear it. This easy banter made her feel weak with longing. Forcing herself to push down the treacherous and confusing desires of her heart, she got up abruptly, brushing grit off her jeans.

  With Lola still in his arms, happily trying to pull his tie apart with chubby hands, Rico said, ‘There’s a function in Athens tomorrow night. I’d like you to accompany me.’

  Gypsy stifled a grimace. ‘A charity event?’

  Rico smiled. ‘No, it’s a party to celebrate the opening of a friend’s new hotel.’

  ‘Oh…’ Gypsy faltered. What could she say? She couldn’t hide here on the island for ever, but
the thought of going out in public with Rico when her feelings for him were see-sawing all over the place was very dangerous. But of course she couldn’t explain that—and he’d wonder what was wrong if she gave an excuse. She shrugged, ‘OK…’

  ‘Good. I’ll have Demi come pick you up around four and bring you over in the helicopter. I’ll meet you at the hotel.’

  Still breathless, Gypsy followed Rico as he strode back into the villa with Lola. ‘Wait—what about Lola?’

  He halted and turned back. ‘Agneta will be here. She can watch her overnight.’

  Gypsy gasped. ‘We’ll be gone all night? But I’ve never left her alone for a night.’

  That familiar implacability came back into the lines of Rico’s face. ‘Which is why it seems to me that it’s a good idea to start now. I get invited to things all the time, and it’s more practical to stay in Athens. We could bring her with us if we had a nanny, but as we don’t…’

  Gypsy felt the wrench of being parted from Lola already. ‘We don’t need a nanny. I can take care of her—’

  ‘Not all the time.’ Rico’s tone brooked no argument, and he turned to stride inside again, throwing back over his shoulder, ‘Now that you’ve brought it up, I’ll arrange to have some nannies sent to the villa for interview in the next few days.’

  ‘You’re doing it again.’ Gypsy almost had to run after Rico, watching as he handed Lola over to Agneta, who indicated that she would feed her. When Agneta had left with Lola, Rico turned to her with a dangerous look on his face.

  ‘I am a busy man. Part of this fifteen-month deal is that you are by my side as my companion. We can’t do that with a baby. She will be fine. Rafael and Isobel have a nanny for exactly that purpose.’

  ‘That’s Rafael and Isobel,’ Gypsy said, afraid he’d hear the bitterness in her voice. ‘They’re different.’

  He came close then, and Gypsy backed away, suddenly intimidated by the dangerous light in his eyes. ‘Why? Because they’re a real couple?’