After the Greek Affair

by Chantelle Shaw

  Belle knew she would never sleep while her brain was racing. She often worked late at night—for some reason it was her most creative time—so she slipped out of her room and made her way up to the top floor of the villa and along the hall to the room she was to use as a studio. On the way she passed the staircase which Larissa had told her led to the roof terrace, and after a moment’s hesitation changed course and climbed the stairs.

  At the top, an arched doorway opened onto a large roof garden, illuminated faintly by the silver gleam of the moon. It seemed as though you really could reach up and touch the stars, she mused, tilting her head to watch the countless glittering diamonds that studded the black velvet sky. The soft silence of the night air was broken only by the sound of an ornamental fountain, its fine spray of water droplets sparkling in the moonlight. A dining table and chairs were at one end of the terrace, but instead of sofas enormous cushions were piled on the floor beneath a draped voile canopy, the effect reminiscent of a Bedouin encampment.

  It was so peaceful. Belle took a deep breath, her tension seeping away. But a voice from behind her had her wheeling around, and she gasped when she saw Loukas lounging casually in the doorway.

  ‘I see you’ve discovered my hideaway,’ he murmured softly.

  She stared at him, her tension returning and exacerbated by his indolent air that plainly said he did not have a care in the world. Well, of course he hadn’t. He’d got his own way. Loukas was in control of his kingdom and it was clear he regarded her as another of his puppets who would jump to his bidding. Anger flared inside her.

  ‘I know the real reason why you’re so determined that I should stay on Aura,’ she challenged him, desperately trying to ignore her body’s reaction to the fact that he had removed his jacket and tie and unfastened the top few buttons of his shirt to reveal an expanse of darkly tanned skin overlaid with black chest hairs.

  His dark brows rose. ‘Really? Why don’t you enlighten me?’

  ‘You still don’t believe I am an experienced enough designer to make Larissa’s wedding dress. That’s why you want me here under your nose—so that you can keep checking on me. I’ve told you I’m prepared to work twenty-four hours a day if necessary to finish her gown and the bridesmaids’ dresses in time for the wedding. Why don’t you trust me?’

  ‘Trust has to be earned,’ he said abruptly, his jaw tightening as he walked towards her. He had trusted Sadie, Loukas thought grimly. Love had blinded him, and ultimately his faith in her had made a fool of him. His gut clenched as fetid memories of her treachery seeped like poison through his veins. He had grown adept at blanking out his bitterness, just as he blanked Sadie out of his mind. But he would never forget how she had betrayed him and the child she had been carrying—his child. The idea of trusting any woman ever again was laughable.

  Belle tensed when Loukas halted a few inches from her. He was too close for comfort, but she was startled when she glimpsed a sudden bleakness in his eyes. He looked almost…vulnerable, and she felt a strong urge to slide her arms around him and hold him close.

  His expression altered, hardened, and the moment passed. She must be crazy to think Loukas needed anyone, she told herself impatiently. His face was all angles and planes in the moonlight. His slashing cheekbones and square jaw could have been carved from granite, and the flash of pain she thought she had seen in his eyes must have been an illusion.

  She shook her hair back from her face. ‘I just want you to know that the only reason I’ve agreed to stay and make Larissa’s dress here on Aura is because it will make life easier for her. There is so little time until the wedding, and I can see she is upset about Georgios’s father.’

  She made to step past him, but he caught hold of her arm and swung her back to face him, his eyes glinting when she gave him a furious glare.

  ‘I owe you an apology.’

  Her eyes widened, and the words, Let go of me, died on her lips. ‘What do you mean?’

  The moonlight had turned her hair into a silver river, streaming down her back, and her silvery dress shimmered, giving her an ethereal appearance. Loukas felt a piercing sensation through his heart—the same feeling he experienced sometimes when he watched the sun rise over the sea and he imagined that his father was out on his fishing boat.

  For some reason beyond his comprehension Belle got to him in a way no other woman had done since Sadie. She was tiny and feisty and not afraid to stand up to him, and he found her a refreshing change from the simpering falseness of so many of his previous mistresses.

  ‘I was wrong to take my anger with Larissa’s first designer out on you,’ he admitted. ‘I am very protective of my sister and I was not prepared to risk her being hurt again.’ He paused, his eyes roaming over Belle’s slender figure, heat flaring inside him when he realised that she was bra-less beneath her dress. ‘The evidence I’ve seen of your work proves that you are a talented designer. Your enthusiasm is obvious, as is your rapport with Lissa, and I’m pleased you are going to make her wedding dress.’

  ‘Oh.’ Belle was utterly taken aback by his apology. She had believed him to be as domineering as her stepfather, but she had never known John to apologise for anything—not even his violent outbursts of temper which had so often resulted in the stinging slap of his palm across her cheek.

  She studied Loukas’s face, and felt a tightening sensation in the pit of her stomach as her gaze lingered on the sensual curve of his mouth. Her initial dislike of him had been a form of self-defence, she realised shakily. She was scared by the way he made her feel, shocked by her longing to feel his mouth on hers.

  His hand was still on her arm, and a little shiver ran through her when he trailed his fingertips lightly up to her bare shoulder. His touch made her skin tingle, and her breath became trapped in her throat as her gaze meshed with his. No longer as hard as flint, his eyes burned with an undisguised hunger that evoked a primitive yearning inside her.

  ‘Undoubtedly it will help Larissa if you make her dress here on Aura.’ He paused, and the air between them seemed to tremble. ‘But there is another reason why I want you to stay.’

  His voice was as deep and soft as crushed velvet. Belle’s heart jerked painfully against her ribs and she watched, paralysed, as his head slowly lowered and the moonlight was obscured. She licked her dry lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘What…reason?’ she whispered.

  ‘This…’

  He brushed his mouth over hers, capturing her surprised gasp as her lips parted helplessly. The kiss was slow and soft and unbelievably sensual, dragging her ever deeper into its passionate vortex. Pleasure exploded inside her with volcanic force. She trembled with a need that was beyond logical explanation, her body as taut as whipcord, a little moan escaping her when he tasted her again and again. She had wanted him to kiss her since she had watched him striding towards her on Kea. All day she had tried to deny her desire for him, but now it overwhelmed her in a torrent of sensation that she was powerless to resist.

  The tasting became a lingering, sensual feast, a ravishment of her senses as he slanted his mouth over hers and deepened the kiss. His lips were firm, demanding her response, and it did not enter her head to deny him when this was what she wanted. His tongue traced the shape of her lips before probing between them. Dear heaven! His bold exploration took her to another level where conscious thought faded and instinctive response took over. She pressed her slender body up against the solid wall of his chest, and her breath left her in a rush when he closed his arms around her, one hand tangling in her hair and the other sliding up and down her spine.

  Loukas was massively aroused. Belle could feel his rock-hard erection against her pelvis. But instead of bringing her to her senses the proof of his virility evoked a flood of molten warmth between her legs. This had gone too far, whispered a voice of warning inside her head. But her body refused to listen. All her life she had been sensible and obedient, forced to adhere to the rigid rules of her childhood. Maybe this was wrong, but she wanted Loukas
with a ferocious need that was causing her whole body to tremble. How could it be wrong when it felt so right? her mind argued.

  He should stop this now, before he lost control. Loukas lifted his head and stared down at Belle, the throbbing ache in his groin making a mockery of that thought. It had been too late from the moment his mouth had connected with hers. If he was honest, his self-control had been blasted apart from the moment he had caught sight of her petite figure on Kea, he acknowledged derisively.

  No woman had aroused him this powerfully since Sadie. His jaw tensed. This was not the same. Although he hated to admit it, he had loved Sadie, and his desire for her had been more than just a physical urge. What he felt for the fragile blonde in his arms was nothing more than lust. Her eager response to him proved that she shared his hunger.

  This was madness, Belle thought dazedly, unable to restrain a little gasp of pleasure when Loukas trailed his mouth over her cheek to her earlobe before following a moist pathway down her throat. Her entire body seemed to be one erogenous zone, her awareness of him so acute that she felt drunk on the exotic scent of his cologne. Her brain told her she should call a halt now, but the reasons for stopping him were no longer clear. Lucid thought was fading as an instinct as old as mankind took over.

  ‘I want to see you.’ His voice was rough—a deep rasp that ached with sexual hunger and evoked a primitive response in Belle. She trembled when he slid his hand to her nape and undid the hooks that secured the halter-neck top of her dress. Slowly, so slowly, he drew the silvery silk down, baring the creamy globes of her breasts inch by inch. She knew without looking down that her nipples had hardened into stiff peaks. He pulled the silk down to her waist and made a guttural noise low in his throat as he finally exposed the dusky pink crests that were jutting provocatively towards him, practically begging for him to touch them.

  ‘Theos, you are exquisite.’

  She caught her breath when he cupped her breasts in his palms, his skin enticingly warm against her flesh. The trembling in her limbs grew worse when he lowered his head and flicked his tongue across one nipple and then its twin, back and forth, over and over, until she gave a whimper of pleasure and her knees sagged. He caught her as she crumpled against him and swung her up into his arms so that for a few seconds the stars in the sky swirled like the endlessly reforming patterns in a kaleidoscope.

  And then she was flat on her back, lying on the big floor cushions, the stars still visible through the sheer voile canopy above her. When Loukas knelt over her it seemed so natural that she ignored the whispered warning inside her head that he was all but a stranger. From the moment she had met him she had felt a fundamental connection with him that she could not explain, and when he leaned forward and claimed her mouth in a devastatingly sensual kiss the whisper of warning faded as desire pounded a pagan drumbeat through her veins.

  Her lips felt swollen from the demanding pressure of his. But now his mouth was on her breast, and she cried out when he closed his lips around her nipple and sucked hard, sending starbursts of sensation shooting down to her pelvis. She never wanted the pleasure to stop, and pushed her fingers into his silky hair to hold him to his task as he transferred his mouth to her other breast. Reality faded. She stared up at the endless expanse of the night sky and felt adrift in the universe. She was free from her bullying stepfather, who had made her childhood a misery. She could do as she pleased, make her own decisions and live her life as she chose. The knowledge filled her with a heady sense of excitement.

  Loukas was kneeling over her and she skimmed her hands over his chest, feeling the warmth that emanated from him. She wanted more, wanted to feel his naked skin beneath her fingertips, and in a fever of desire she tore open his shirt buttons and pushed the material over his broad shoulders. In the moonlight his skin gleamed like polished bronze. Eagerly she explored the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen. The mass of dark hair that arrowed down over his flat stomach and disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers felt faintly abrasive against her palms. Driven by instinct, she brushed her fingers lightly over the distinct bulge straining against his zip and heard his harsh groan.

  ‘Witch.’ Loukas inhaled sharply, stunned by the realisation that he was on the brink of coming. His erection was hot and hard—Theos, so hard that his gut ached. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this turned on. It was all he could do not to shove Belle’s dress up, ease her panties aside and thrust his throbbing shaft into her.

  He snatched a ragged breath as he stared down at her. She was more beautiful than a priceless work of art, with her long gold hair streaming over the cushions and her bare breasts creamy pale in the moonlight. She was a sorceress, and he was utterly captivated by her, entrapped by her spell, so that everything faded but his need to possess her. He wanted to see all of her, and his hands shook as he tugged her dress over her hips, the silk slithering through his fingers as he drew it down to expose her slender thighs.

  Belle felt a moment of uncertainty when Loukas hooked his fingers into the waistband of her knickers. She had only met him for the first time earlier that day, whispered the voice of caution in her head. The feeling that she had known him for ever was an illusion. But she had learned a few things about him, her brain argued. She had discovered that he was a devoted brother and a loyal friend, and beneath his tough exterior he cared deeply about the people he loved. Her eyes met his, and her heart thudded at the determined intent in his gaze.

  ‘You want this as much I do,’ he told her, in his deep velvet voice that sent a shiver of response through her.

  She could not deny it—did not want to discuss it or quantify it. She just wanted him, and the wanting was so strong, so intense, that nothing else in the universe mattered. She watched him mutely when he removed her final covering and slid his hand between her thighs. She allowed him to push her legs a little apart, and all the time her eyes were locked with his so that she saw the flare of satisfaction when he parted her with gentle fingers and discovered her slick wetness.

  She could not restrain a little gasp of shock when Loukas found her ultra-sensitive clitoris, the gentle stroke of his thumb-pad across the tight bud causing her to arch her back as sensation ripped through her. She was burning up. Molten heat flooded between her thighs when he slid a finger inside her. Instinctively she thrust her hips forward, so that she could feel him go deeper still. Already tiny spasms were rippling low in her belly, but she wanted more—wanted him to fill her.

  Driven by a level of need she had never experienced before, she clutched his shoulders and tried to force him down on top of her, but with a rough laugh he resisted. She whispered a protest when he eased away from her, and then gave a shiver of anticipation when she realised that he was stripping off his trousers and underwear. He was back within seconds, and her heart pounded at the feel of his hard thighs pressing against her pelvis. The tip of his erection pushed against her wet heat and she gasped at the size of him. Doubts formed in her dazed mind and she belatedly remembered her relative inexperience. It wasn’t possible for her to take him. But he was easing forward slowly, as if he sensed her sudden trepidation. He slid his hands beneath her bottom, angling her to accept his penetration, and then he thrust deep and muffled her sob of pleasure with his lips as he captured her mouth in a drugging kiss.

  Loukas’s body was gripped by such a powerful need that he was overwhelmed by it, and his control was rapidly spiralling into the stratosphere. He began to move, slowly at first to allow Belle to accommodate him. Something told him that she had not done this very often, and he stifled his urgent need for sexual release so that the ultimate pleasure would be a mutual experience. But his resolve was tested by her eager response to him. Every stroke took him deeper within the velvet embrace of her body; every thrust took him closer to the edge. She matched his rhythm, arching her hips to him, her head thrown back against the cushions and her eyes half closed.

  Nothing had prepared Belle for the intensity of pleasure Loukas
was creating with every powerful thrust. He filled her, completed her, their two bodies joined as one and moving in perfect accord towards the magical place she sensed she was nearing. The stars above her glittered in the night sky before his dark head blotted them from her vision as he slanted his mouth over hers in a kiss that plundered her soul. She clung to him as the storm inside her grew ever stronger, and as the waves of pleasure built higher she urged him to increase his pace. She gave a sharp cry when her body suddenly convulsed in a mind-blowing orgasm that caused her internal muscles to clench and release over and over again.

  He climaxed almost simultaneously, his hands gripping her hips as he effected one last devastating thrust and gave a savage groan, his face contorting in those moments of exquisite release before he slumped on top of her and snatched oxygen into his lungs. Belle could feel his heart thundering in time with hers, and tenderness swept over her that this big, powerful man had come apart in her arms. She pressed her lips to his cheek and silently acknowledged that she had never felt closer to another human being than she did at that moment. She wished they could stay like this for ever. It was her last conscious thought before sleep drew her down into its dreamless embrace.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THIS was not her room. Belle slowly sat up and stared around at the unfamiliar surroundings. Her brain slammed back into gear and she felt sick as her memory returned. What had she done?

  A few moments ago, while cocooned in the blissful lethargy between sleep and wakefulness, she had been shocked by what she had assumed was a highly erotic dream. But she hadn’t been dreaming. She had slept with Loukas last night. The spaciousness of the room and the vastness of the bed with its burgundy silk sheets indicated that this was the master bedroom. He must have carried her down here after they had had sex on the roof terrace.

  Shame crashed over her in a tidal wave, and recriminations formed thick and fast inside her head. It was bad enough that she had slept with a man she had known for less than twenty-four hours. But to compound her stupidity it hadn’t been any man—it had been Loukas Christakis, one of the most powerful businessmen in the world, who could crush her little company as easily as he could swat a fly if he chose.