A Perfect Wife: International Billionaires V: The Greeks

by Caro LaFever

She’d been so overwhelmed, so in awe of him and his desire. She hadn’t touched him.

  Yet.

  Her fingers were made to slide across his hot skin. Her palms were made to lie on his heart and feel the beat of his blood. Her angular body, the one she’d dismissed as unfit, her body now found its place in this life. Along his side, beneath this male, surrounding him with her arms and legs and womanly want.

  He entered her, entered her body and her heart. He filled her with his body and his presence. His gaze latched onto hers as he slid all the way into the deepest part of her. And she knew with sudden clarity, this was not her sacrifice alone. She was not the only one giving.

  “Natalie.”

  His whisper—his accent rolling her name with love, his voice filled with desire and need—was the last word her mind remembered. For the rest of her life, her body and her heart would be what remembered every moment that came next. He imprinted himself into her soul as surely as a brand of fire emblazoned itself on skin.

  He moved. His hips lifted and drove back onto her own. Deep inside her, he surged, his hot masculinity pumping and pushing into the core of her femininity. An electric energy blazed through her veins as he continued to claim her, own her.

  His gaze never left hers.

  Everything swirled in those chestnut eyes and she understood. She knew him right to the center. She knew his heart, knew his anger and pain. With some deep primal wisdom, she found a way to pull those terrible memories out of him. Maybe it was the way she touched his back and experienced the heave of his breath. Or possibly it was the way her legs brushed his hips and urged him on. Perhaps it was the core of her, accepting him, wrapping his need in the hot fist of her desire.

  But more than anything, it was the love she knew shone from her own eyes.

  The last of the dark shadows slipped from his, to be replaced with golden shimmers of purity. “Agápi̱ mou.”

  My love.

  Her heart leapt with a fearful hope. She let it stay high and free. This moment was too precious to crush the feeling inside her.

  “Aetos.” She arched into him, sure now that this, this bonding, was worth any future sacrifice.

  He threw his head back with a gasp at her movement. The firelight etched his beauty with fingers of gold. His olive skin burnished to dusky bronze, his curls dampened to dark honey with the burn of his passion. The gilded edge of his mouth wide as he panted.

  She closed her eyes and let him sweep her away. Time blurred, sounds hushed. All she knew was the heat and thrust. All she could grasp was the coming together, of becoming truly one with a man for the first time in her life.

  For the last time in her life.

  Taking the knowledge in, her heart wept with delight knowing she’d found her mate. Her heart also cried with grief, understanding she would never find this again if this man walked away from her.

  Her heart trembled as it soared with an agonizing faith.

  With a cry, he lost the last of his control. She felt it slip from his grasp and she rejoiced in it. In the total freedom he had with her. To lose himself. To let her see everything.

  Hope bloomed, rolling out of her heart and into her soul and spirit.

  His pace increased. Her hopes and love and dreams wrapped around her lust, coiling inside her, a tightening, grinding greed.

  For this man, for his body and his need.

  For his passion.

  Her hands moved across the flex of his back muscles down to the thrusting hips. She grasped his butt with firm hands and pushed him closer to her. Farther into her. The building heat twisted tighter at her core and she pressed herself into him, reaching for what she wanted with an urgent desperation.

  His head dipped and his breath slid hot on her cheek and her neck. His arms bracketed her body as he thrust hard into her. Harder and harder.

  White electricity shot through her and she keened a high cry, rising closer and closer to the edge. His lips swallowed her air as he punched his tongue as deeply into her mouth as his cock plunged into her body.

  Deep inside, he came to her. Thrust into the heart of her and found his place. She sensed it deep within, the binding and bonding. The moment when he became hers and they found each other. The moment she fell over and over, tumbling into him.

  He stilled above her, his every muscle rigid in release. He rose, his arms straining as his hips thrust one last time.

  The moment, the moment would live inside her forever.

  He stared down at her, gasping, his expression alive with love.

  And fear.

  Before she allowed her heart to fall into the abyss, she closed her eyes and clung. The only thing she allowed herself to feel was his body. The slick sweat on his skin. The weight of his muscles as he relaxed into her arms. The soft puff of breath on her neck as he exhaled.

  Moments. Minutes. Maybe hours.

  She had no idea how much time had passed before she opened her eyes. The simmering fire had burned down and the cool night air brushed her skin sending a string of goose bumps shivering across her flesh.

  He lay on top of her, his body deep inside, his muscles lax, his weight heavy. Wonderful.

  She wouldn’t think. Wouldn’t allow herself to think of anything other than this.

  Nat ran her fingers through his rioting curls and they clung to her as if in supplication. His head nestled in her neck, his face and fear hidden from her gaze. His palms drew a lazy pattern on her hips.

  His sex lay inside her, still connecting them. Male and female.

  A hushed silence fell between them. She imagined it as the kind of silence one experienced when facing an artistic masterpiece or hearing angels sing. A silence filled with joy at what could be created between two humans when they brought their bodies together, their souls together.

  She wouldn’t think of his fear. She would only allow herself to hold on to his love.

  The cadence of his breath slowed and deepened.

  Her lover slept. At peace.

  Chapter 20

  The first thing he noticed when he awoke was the lightness inside him.

  The utter lightness.

  He’d slept. Like no other time in his life, even during these last weeks in this bed by her side, had he slept with a such deep, soul-drenching tranquility. Not even as a child, when he’d fallen asleep listening to his parents argue, had he fallen so deeply into a restful trance. Never, ever had he fallen into a peaceful slumber after wild sex in a woman’s arms.

  The second thing he noticed was he still lay on top of her. Still lay inside her warm, welcoming embrace. Still lay inside her hot, wet core.

  Immediately, he hardened.

  And realized he had not taken care of what he’d always taken care of before.

  He’d fallen asleep with the condom on. The thought should have made him crazy with worry. Instead, all he could think about was how content he felt in her arms.

  Throaty laughter filled his ear. A second later, the softness of her mouth sampled his skin, nipped his earlobe.

  “Ouch.” He propped himself up. Gave her his best scowl. “That hurt. I also need to take care of the old condom before we start with a new one.”

  She smiled at him, apparently unconcerned about the risk they’d taken.

  He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to slip out of the bliss he felt in the center of his soul. Easing off her body, he stood.

  Her long, blonde hair lay strewn across the white pillow, looking like gold filigree on white marble. Her violet eyes were a blaze of color in her creamy face. The covers had fallen at her waist, leaving her breasts naked to his avid view.

  “Hurry,” she husked.

  He paced down the hallway to the bathroom. The night was still young, he could tell by the moonlight dancing along the wall as he walked back to the bedroom. An unfamiliar bubble of amusement struck him at the thought of his grandmother poking her nose out of her room to find him prancing naked in her home.

  “Come here,
” Natalie said from the bed. Her mouth slanted in a sultry smile.

  He closed the door behind him with a snap.

  Within a second or two, he had a new condom on and was lying on top of her soft body. “Now where were we?”

  “I think, right here.” She raised her head and nipped his ear once more.

  “Ouch,” he grumbled again, the light feeling circling back into him.

  “Let me make it better,” she cooed and drew him down to her delicious mouth, her talented tongue.

  The light inside of him grew as he began to move on her. It lit his heart and soul. It brightened his brain and breath. The light was tied to her, he knew it. Felt it and feared it. Still, the pace of his lust and the thrust of his sex would not be denied. She wrapped around him like a Circe siren, but this time he fell for her temptation, this time he answered her call with no regrets.

  The fear would come later. He knew this. Right now, though, he didn’t care.

  “Aetos.” The softness in her tone told him what he would face soon.

  He looked into those amethyst eyes and saw everything. Everything he’d never wanted from a woman. Everything he’d ever dreamed of from this woman.

  The lightness inside him answered her. He knew what must shine from his own eyes.

  So he closed them. Tightened them and let himself sink deep into the dark lust running through his veins.

  Yet, he could not escape her. Could not escape the sure knowledge that what he did with his body, with her, was nothing at all like he’d done with the women he’d had before. This was not a male taking a female. This was not pounding into a woman until he found release for his aching cock. This was what he’d dreamed of when he’d been a boy, when the first rush of testosterone had risen in his blood, and he eyed the young girls around him and imagined.

  Of love. Of finding the one.

  Of making love to the one with his heart as well as his cock.

  Those dreams rose inside him like vaporous ghosts and he nearly cried out in fear. In need.

  “Aetos.” Her soft hands ran over his sweating body, instinctively trying to soothe.

  He blanked his mind, let his body take control and only opened his eyes when she cried out in passionate release. Even as he found his own, he could not escape her. The beauty of the rose flush on her pearled skin. The cascade of moonlit hair on the pillow. The elegant edge of her shoulders and collarbone.

  The glow of love in her violet-wine gaze as she finally opened them.

  The love he didn’t want. The love he feared.

  The love he returned.

  * * *

  Family packed the farmhouse.

  New Year’s Day in Greece was the equivalent to Christmas Day in the States, Natalie had been told. The claim appeared to be true from the pile of wrapped gifts crowding around the tree. The smell of almonds and lemon wafted into the kitchen as the vasilopita cake baked. She had been given the great honor of placing the golden coin with St. Basil’s image into the dough before it was slid into the oven. The inclusion made her ache with love.

  “You will get it in your slice, Nat,” Rhea had giggled by her side. “After that, you’ll have luck for all of next year.”

  She would need more than luck. She would need a miracle to get what she wanted in the new year.

  Him.

  The sound of his laughter snared her attention as it always did. She turned from observing the dozens of Kourkoulos kids playing on the floor and caught his eye as he glanced over from another round of endless backgammon. His smile gentled as he gazed at her and his eyes turned hot, glowing with the ever-present love.

  Or was it merely lust?

  She pinned a return smile on her face and turned away. For eight days now she’d slid between horror and hope. She’d spent hours watching him, wondering. As she’d laughed and talked with his family, participated in the Christmas festivities, baked with his grandmother; the whole time, she’d tried to keep herself realistic.

  Then he would take her hand and take her to bed.

  And she’d tumble right back into pure love once more. As he moved inside her, as he groaned his pleasure in her ear, as he stroked her skin with loving intent—he touched her heart, seared it into his possession.

  She was lost. Lost to him.

  A shiver ran through her.

  They would leave for the States soon. Tomorrow or surely the next day.

  The distant fear, a fear she’d put away as soon as she landed in Greece, swept near once more. She had no illusions about the thugs. They would continue to search for her and the money owed to them. As soon as she returned to New York City, they’d be stalking her.

  Would Aetos help her? Perhaps she should she confess the awful situation she found herself in.

  Yet, he’d said nothing about the future, seemingly satisfied with eating his giagiá’s food and teasing his pappoús and having her in his bed. She’d gone along, not wanting to rock this fragile boat of hope she’d built in her heart.

  But soon, very soon, reality would crash into this fantasy. The problem was this fantasy had become her only reality. She no longer could deny she’d given everything to him and was at his mercy. Would he believe her story when she confessed? Would he hang on to the bond they’d forged together as they’d laughed and loved? Or would his darker impulses overwhelm his growing trust?

  Rubbing her arms with shaking hands, she walked back into the kitchen, away from the laughing kids and men. Into a sea of women.

  “Natalie!” His giagiá was in her element, bustling around the small room, barking instructions to her willing helpers. “Come, come. It is time.”

  “You get to pull the cake out of the oven,” Rhea piped in. “It’s a high honor.”

  The cake was golden brown; slivers of almonds twined at the top with the numerals of the New Year. A waft of lemon and sugar filled the kitchen as an exclamation of contentment came from a dozen women.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “The biggest.”

  “The best one ever.” The old woman smoothed her hand across Nat’s arm before shooing her and her precious package over to the wooden table. “We must let it cool.”

  A hoard of small, black-headed grandchildren scampered into the kitchen, running around the women to stare at the cake. The women laughed and patted heads and tapped the children under their chins. A well of emotion surged in Nat’s heart. How she loved this family. This family who had welcomed her with eager delight. Who’d taught her their customs and language. Who’d made her feel a part of a whole instead of all alone.

  “Giagiá!” One of the youngest kids peeked at the old woman. “Is it time to cut the cake?”

  “Not yet.” Old, gnarled fingers lovingly moved through the tuft of black hair. “First we must finish unwrapping the presents.”

  A swift kick of nervousness coiled in Nat’s stomach at what lay ahead. She’d done something stupid. She’d known it as she did it. Still, some crazy impulse had pushed and prompted her until she’d taken out her credit card and splurged.

  The gift had seemed splendid in the moment.

  A hundred times she’d watched him twist his cufflinks while he talked on his cell phone. A dozen times she’d watch the glint of the gold at his wrist has he pounded on his laptop. Granted, he hadn’t worn them since they arrived at the farm, but the cufflinks caught her attention from atop the simple wooden chest of drawers every time she passed.

  The lone eagle. The proud arch of the head. The powerful thrust of the wings.

  So Aetos. So impossibly beautiful and so alone.

  She hadn’t been planning on buying him anything. She had no money, only a credit card. Although it had been six weeks since she’d received any threats, the fear lingered. She didn’t want to be tracked and using the meager funds on her credit card could potentially expose herself. Plus, she hadn’t wanted to show him how much he’d come to mean to her.

  Admit it, Nat. This was the real reason. You wanted to play the c
oward.

  True.

  The odds of the Ukrainian mob coming to Greece were slim. The real reason she hadn’t planned on giving him anything of meaning was she’d wanted to hide her heart, her love. Only in bed had she succumbed to him and given everything. Thankfully, she’d managed to swallow the words and hold onto her pride. She’d managed to convince herself she still had some kind of control over this situation. With stoic resolve, she’d planned on giving him what she was giving the rest of his family. A basket of goodies; cookies and candy she’d baked with his giagiá’s help.

  But as soon as she’d seen the cufflinks winking at her in the small display case in Thívai’s oldest jewelry shop, she’d lost the battle to stay impersonal. To stay safe.

  “Wow,” she’d whispered.

  The store owner knew a sale when he saw it.

  “Ah,” his giagiá had murmured when Natalie had joined the other women of the family at the corner café. They were all displaying their presents and lavishing praise on each other’s choices.

  “Oh, Natalie.” Doris’s hushed voice had sent a fission of freezing fear down her spine.

  “What?” She’d looked wildly at the aunts and nieces and daughters who’d grown silent as his gift was passed around. “What’s wrong with it?”

  Six sets of dark eyes had gazed at her with a mixture of tenderness and worry.

  “I’ll take it back.” Instinct reared inside turning the fear into panic. She didn’t understand the undercurrent rolling through this group of women, but she did understand this gift she held in her hands was now more than her simple gift of love. “Right away.”

  “No.” His giagiá had shaken her head, determination filtering through the worry, wiping clean the anxious frown on her forehead. She’d leaned over and patted Nat’s hand. “This is the right gift for him.”

  Glancing around at the other female faces, their concern hovering in the air above the group, she hadn’t been able to believe the words. “I don’t think so.”

  “It is.” The look in the old woman’s eyes was a fire of firm love. “You must be brave, Natalie. For all of us.”