by -Julia James
She would simply accept—and be glad, so glad.
She would go with him wherever he took her. Because she was helpless to do anything else.
She wanted only one thing—to be with Nikos Kiriakis.
Whatever happened.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE cruise r made its way northwards, leaving the shoreline of the island to port. Janine lay back and enjoyed the sensation, just as she enjoyed the exquisite flavour of the vintage champagne in her glass—and the even more exquisite pleasure of having Nikos Kiriakis beside her.
Sailing away with her.
He was watching her, she knew. She could feel it. It was almost tangible, the way his gaze set her nerve-ends quivering, vibrating finely in a way that was far more than the resonant vibration of the cruiser's engine. She wanted to turn her head and meet his eyes, knew that if she did the quivering would leap, sending her heart-rate skittering away. She felt breathless, intoxicated. And it was not the champagne—it was him, him, Nikos Kiriakis, pulling her towards him, drawing her inexorably towards him, and she could not hold back, could not resist him.
As the cruiser headed onwards, its sleek lines propelled by its powerful, throbbing engine, she felt that that was what Nikos was doing to her. Propelling her onwards, taking her with him. And she could not say no. Could not resist.
Where was he taking her? Where would their journey end?
She did not know, did not want to ask, was content to be swept along wherever he wanted her to go.
She had put herself in his hands.
She glanced back to the island across the churning of the wake. It seemed very far away.
Just like the rest of her life.
The only reality was here, now, with Nikos.
She tried to think of Stephanos, but he was so far away too. He slipped away from her mind, fading, dwindling.
She had longed so much for Nikos, dreamt of him, yearned for him and ached for him.
And he had come back to her.
She took another sip of champagne and let intoxication take her. The wind streamed over her face; the sun dazzled her eyes. She felt the cruiser alter direction subtly, felt the helm going a few points to port. Then they were rounding the island, starting to curve back south again, with the sun shifting direction.
'Are we going to go back around to the hotel?' Janine asked.
She looked across at Nikos and felt the now-familiar lurch of her heart at setting eyes on him. He was wearing his dark glasses, and glamour just oozed from him. What was it about dark glasses that made a man look so damn sexy? she found herself thinking. And on a man as sexy as Nikos in the first place the effect was devastating!
She hardly heard his answer, so rapt she was by gazing at his gorgeousness.
'Not quite that far,' he answered.
'So where, then?' she pressed.
But he would not answer, only let an enigmatic smile play around his mouth in a way that made her more riveted than ever, and quite took her mind off the mystery of where they were going to have lunch. So far as she knew there were no villages along that north-west shore—nothing until you reached Stephanos's hotel complex, which was just north of a tiny fishing village.
But it wasn't a village they were heading for—or even a hotel.
After following the dramatically rocky shoreline of the north-west coast, the cruiser suddenly veered inshore. For a while Janine could not see where on earth they might be heading. Apart from a rocky death upon the sea-washed cliffs. But then as they got closer and cleared another headland she saw, nestling in its shelter, a tiny cove, gleaming with sand in a tiny half-moon, bordered by a simple stony quay running out from a track that wound up the cliffside. And as her eyes lifted she saw a sight that made her gasp.
A villa was perched on the crest of the cliff, so cunningly landscaped into the contours that it hardly showed from the sea. Only the sunshine dazzling on its windows gave away its existence.
Janine turned to Nikos.
"We're heading there?
Nikos nodded. "The agent sent me details—it sounded intriguing.'
It also, he thought, but did not say, sounded ideal for his purpose. Its remoteness was perfect.
There was a strange look in her eyes suddenly.
'Is—is that why you came back?' she asked. 'Just to view this villa?'
He heard the catch of doubt in her voice.
His eyelids drooped.
'No,' he said softly.
For a long moment he held her eyes, and he saw the colour stain out across those high, beautiful cheekbones until she looked away in confusion.
More than confusion.
Relief.
They drew nearer the shore, into the lee of the cliff, until they were able to moor along the quayside. As Janine walked down the short gangplank she felt the swell of the sea against the stone quay unbalance her slightly. She had nearly two glasses of champagne inside her, and had not yet eaten, and she swayed, catching at the guidebars on either side.
Hands steadied her at her waist, warm through the thin cotton of her sundress. Her heart gave a flutter and she paused, regaining her balance, then glanced back over her shoulder.
'Thanks.'
Her breath caught. Nikos—towering over her, his height accentuated by the slope of the gangplank—seemed overwhelming. His eyes were still shielded by his dark glasses, making her focus on that beautiful sculpted mouth of his, the lean outline of his jaw. For a second time stilled, and she felt as if she were drowning, unable to draw breath. She could feel the imprint of his hands on her, holding her still. He seemed so close to her—so close...
Oh, dear God, what is happening to me?
Emotion surged in her, sweeping through her like a wave. She felt herself sway again, and this time it had nothing to do with the sea, with the champagne. This was emotion trembling through her.
But what emotion?
Desperately she tried to give it a name. Intoxication? Wonder? Wanting?
Whatever it was it surged through her, unstoppable, making her weak, so weak...
A crewman was standing on the quay, dutifully holding out a hand to her to help her off. She stepped forward. Nikos's hands released her. The moment passed and she forced herself to recover some semblance of composure.
But as she fell into step beside Nikos she could feel her heart racing.
She glanced ahead of her. Judging by the way the rough track led off the shore end of the quay, winding up the lowest portion of the cliff to the right of the villa, it was going to be a steep climb. There seemed to be a stone hut of some description at the base of the track, with double doors like a garage. Maybe there was a Jeep inside or something? Janine wondered.
She didn't get to find out.
'Come,' said Nikos, and led the way forward. Not to the unmetalled track, but across the head of the tiny cove beyond the quay.
Janine gazed about her. It was exquisitely lovely, a per- feet, tiny jewel of a beach, with golden sand and azure sea, backed by limestone cliffs tumbling with greenery, and tiny wavelets breaking in miniature foam. At the far end of the beach, where the cliff was sheer, she realised there was a kind of glass pod set against vertical rails, soaring upwards. It was, she realised, amazed, a lift.
Her lips parted in wonder as, after she was ushered inside by Nikos, they soared upwards. As they gained the villa level her lips stayed parted in wonder. A fantastic expanse of glittering blue water greeted her—an infinity pool set so cunningly into the terraced rock that as she looked it seemed to merge with the sea and the sky.
'Come,' said Nikos again. He led the way around the head of the pool, lightly ascending a shallow flight of steps that led to the villa itself.
It was very low and modern. Built in gleaming white stone, its wide expanse of sea-fronting windows dazzled in the sunlight.
Janine gazed about her, open-mouthed.
'Let me show you around,' said Nikos.
He slid open one of the vast pairs of wind
ows and she walked inside. Again, the decor was startlingly modern— white and low and totally minimalist—and totally stunning. Polished wooden floors offset the white walls and furniture, and a pair of huge stone pithoi stood like sentinels at the far end.
Her sandals clacking noisily on the wooden floor, she followed him, still open-mouthed, as he showed her round the rest of the villa. It was all on one level, and from every room the same incredible view out over the sea greeted her. The huge bedroom had its own terrace and she wandered out, gazing at the spectacular view all around.
'This is an incredible place!'
'It is, is it not? And now that we are here let us enjoy what it has to offer. Beginning—' he smiled down at her '—with lunch.'
Her eyes widened. 'Is that allowed?'
'The villa is at my disposal,' he answered, as if the very idea that Nikos Kiriakis should not be allowed to do something he wanted to do was absurd. 'Now, would you care to freshen up?' He indicated the en suite bathroom off the main bedroom.
'Well, if you say it's OK,' she said doubtfully.
'Of course.' He smiled again.
She went off to make the most of the palatial facilities. When she emerged she headed down the little flight of steps that led from the bedroom terrace down to the main terrace, beside the infinity pool. As she descended she saw that the crew had set out a table with a huge canvas sunshade overhead, and were now busy unloading what looked to be half a dozen picnic hampers. Nikos was lounging against a stone balustrade, gazing out over the incredible view of the sea.
For a moment she just stood, gazing at him. Her heart seemed to still.
He turned and smiled at her, and held out his hand.
She went to join him.
The food was exquisite—delicate trifles that melted in the mouth, morsel after morsel, tempting and irresistible. Dessert was even more delicious, and Janine did not even try and say no to the iced almond parfait in its crystal bowl. Spoonful by tiny spoonful she consumed it, sighing with pleasure.
Nikos sat back and watched her through half-closed enigmatic eyes.
She felt his gaze on her, heavy and sensual.
I can't eat another mouthful—'
Reluctantly Janine set down her dessert spoon, pushing the half-finished dessert away from her and leaning back in her director's chair, tilting back the rest, stretching out her legs. She reached for her glass of sweet Sauternes wine. On top of the glass of Chablis Nikos had persuaded her to drink, and the champagne earlier, she could feel the wine soothing through her body.
Her limbs felt heavy, languorous. Heat licked at her skin. A tiny breeze toyed with the tendrils of her hair, playing over her bare shoulders, her bare arms. The Sauternes slipped down her throat like honey, and she sighed again with pleasure.
She felt replete. The combination of wine and heat made her feel dreamy, indolent. She didn't want to move. Not for a long time. Perhaps not for ever. She wanted time to hold still, the way it was doing now. So she could go on being here, now, with this man, beneath the azure sky, heat beating over her like a slow pulse.
She gave another long, pleasurable sigh, and relaxed back even more in her chair.
I could stay here for ever,' she murmured. 'It's so peaceful. So beautiful.' She turned her head to smile sleepily at Nikos. 'Thank you for bringing me here,' she said softly. Then, even more softly, 'Thank you for coming back...'
He gave a half-smile back, that same enigmatic look in his eyes. She let him look at her, let his gaze entwine with hers. There was silence all around them. Silence and the sweet scent of white jasmine drifting through the air. She was holding his eyes still, and they seemed very dark. She could see the flecks of gold deep within.
He reached and stroked her arm. It felt like the drift of swansdown on her skin.
She ought to move her arm. Ought to tell him not to do what he was doing. But the drift of his fingers was too lovely.
She saw his eyelids droop, saw the enigmatic half-smile pull at his mouth—that beautiful, sensual, sculpted mouth.
'Nikos...' She breathed his name.
His fingers went on drifting over her skin.
Her eyes twined with his.
'I came back,' he said softly, 'because I could not stay away.'
She said nothing, could say nothing, though her eyes were wide and wondering.
His fingers went on drifting, stroking. They slid over her wrist, holding her. His thumb circled slowly over the delicate skin over her veins. His eyes held hers, slow-burning coals, flecked with golden flame.
He got to his feet, drawing her up with him. She came with him, helpless to resist. The wine sang in her blood, low and sweet. The warmth caressed her skin. The sun beat down on her, making her weak.
His hands slipped over her shoulders, warm and heavy.
He lowered his head to her mouth.
His kiss was everything she had dreamt it would be. Slow, and sensuous, tasting her like wine.
And she gave herself to it.
The world slowed. Time stopped. His mouth moved on hers and she was drowning, drowning. Bliss ran in her veins like slow, sweet honey.
Weakness washed over her, wave after wave. Her muscles had no strength. Her will had no strength. She was caught in his arms, her hands touching the contours of his shoulders, her breasts pillowed on his chest. She could feel her nipples prickling, feel the little shivers of arousal teasing through her veins. His hands moved across her back, stroking her, as his mouth moved softly, so softly, over hers. The wave of weakness washed through her again.
I can't resist him, she thought. I can't, I can't.
It's too late for resistance, too late for regrets. I thought he had gone, that he did not want me. But he came back to me and I cannot, cannot, say no to him. Not now, not now. Madness it may be, but it's too late, too late.
'Nikos...'
She breathed his name into his mouth and the world slid away. Her hands slipped upwards, winding around his neck, holding his head to hers as her mouth opened to his and his tongue eased within.
The flush of desire coursed through her body; the sun beat on her back. Her swollen breasts felt heavy, ripening against him. His hands slipped down to her hips and then, as if she were no more than a feather, he gathered her up.
He took her indoors. Her head hung bowed, heavy, upon his shoulder as he carried her, her body limp and weak in his arms. Inside was cooler, the shaded bedroom cooler still, and he laid her down upon the wide bed.
She lay, her sundress riding up her thighs, one strap half-descended from her shoulder. Her heart was slewing in thick, heavy beats.
For one long, endless moment she lay there as he stood quite still and looked down at her. In the shadows of the room she could not read his eyes. His face was taut. Only the pulse at his throat betrayed his condition.
He reached a hand down to her. But it was not to touch her body. Only the thin, strappy sandals. He slid them off her bare feet and tossed them away. Then he stood back again.
'Perfect,' he said softly. 'Quite, quite perfect.'
His gaze laced over her, just as it had done the first time he had ever set eyes on her, she knew. But now—now he would do more than look. He had set her body alight that very first time he had stood looking down at her, so near naked in her bikini. And that same hot flame shimmered within her now.
'Nikos,' she breathed again, helpless in desire.
She wanted him so much. Wanted that lean, hard, male strength pressing on her, possessing her.
A smile curved at his mouth and she felt her breath catch. He plunged his hand into his trouser pocket with slow deliberation and took out a handful of silvery packets. With the same carelessness with which he had treated her unnecessary sandals, he tossed them down on the bedside table.
He smiled down at her again. Her eyes had widened. He started to unbutton his shirt. She lay there, watching him undress, watching his beautiful, lean body emerge, her eyes feasting on him with helpless desire. As he remove
d the last of his clothing she saw just how very, very aroused he was.
He paused, reaching for one of the packets, and sheathed himself. Then, with that same slow deliberation, he came towards her.
A smile was playing around his mouth.
So this, thought Janine, in as much as she was capable of thinking, as her body melted around her, was what it was like to be seduced by Nikos Kiriakis.
Because that was what he was doing. Seducing her.
Touch by touch by touch.
How could she have thought he didn't want her? How could she possibly have thought that?
He stroked her limbs, hands gliding like silk along her bare arms, mouth lowering to graze along the fine ridge of her collarbone, before moving softly, exquisitely, across her throat, to nuzzle at her tender earlobes. She sighed with pleasure, feeling herself melting beneath his silken caresses. He teased her lips with his, easing them open, stroking her tongue with his as she opened beneath him.
And as he did so he slid the half-fallen strap from her shoulder and softly peeled the fine material of her dress away from her swelling breast.
His fingers played with her a little, skimming the delicate underswell, grazing the aching tip, until she moaned, neck arching. His lips left hers and his head bowed, mouth closing over her straining nipple instead. He suckled her softly, oh, so softly, and the little moans in her throat came again and again.
'Do you like that?' he murmured, smiling as his mouth left her breast and then, his gold-flecked eyes holding hers, which gazed up at him, wide and dilated, he moved his hand to her other shoulder, lifting away her other strap and taking it down her arm to expose her other breast.
He paused a moment, his eyes breaking with hers to gaze down upon her nakedness, edged with the white material of her half-removed sundress.
'Such beautiful breasts,' he breathed, and his head lowered again.
Her fingers twisted in the bedclothes, and her spine strained upwards as he suckled her again.
Desire was dissolving her, dissolving her into a soft, boneless mass of sensation—such sweet, sweet sensation.
He went on suckling her, his tongue making soft circles around her nipple, each circle more blissful than the next. And as he laved her breasts his hand glided like silk along her leg, sliding under the rucked hem of her sundress, fingers hooking around the low-slung waistband of her panties.