“Yes, that’s customary.” She stopped to look out over the water. “We all own pieces of our ancestors’ properties in Greece, which have been passed down and portioned out for generations. I think I own a fourth of a fifth of a plot of land somewhere. I’m not sure why they didn’t do that with the island.”
“Let me guess. Land is love, too?” he teased.
“Actually, yes.” She laughed and squinted up at him. “Love, love, love. From hugs to scolding.”
“That’s not so different from most families, though, is it?”
“I don’t know many other families well enough to compare.” She began walking again, and her tone turned thoughtful. “We seem to follow the guidance of our ancestors even long after they’re gone, and I’m not sure that is typical in most families. So I guess you know the original intent was to have a Liakos shipping company here on the island.”
Duke remained quiet as they walked out of the water and up the beach.
“Where there are ports, there are Greeks,” Gabriella said as they slipped on their shoes and stepped from the beach onto the dirt road. “We’re very industrious people, even though the failing economy here may make it appear as though we’re not.”
“I haven’t met anyone here who doesn’t appear to be industrious. The lack of tourism doesn’t have anything to do with how hard the people here work. It has to do with what is offered to tourists. The lure, or appeal, to the masses.”
She was quiet for a while. They walked down another road to a path in the woods. “I guess you’re right about that,” she eventually said. “Do you know why there is no Liakos shipping company here?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t know all the specifics, because you know how stories get convoluted over time. But supposedly they brought in trucks and materials to build the shipping company, and one of my relatives—and I use that word loosely, because in my family, aunts and uncles aren’t always related. Talk about having an identity crisis? Can you imagine sitting around every Easter with Uncle George, Uncle Mike, Uncle Niko, and a slew of other ‘relatives’…” She met Duke’s gaze. “The men would drink their beers, take turns rotating the lamb on the spit, like they do now, and tell stories. Well, that’s how I learned that there was no blood bond between many of us. That little discovery gave me quite an identity crisis at twelve. I mean, what is family? What makes a family?”
“I think a family can be any group of people whom you’ve come to love,” Duke said, thinking about Pierce and his siblings. He ducked beneath a branch and couldn’t resist pressing his hand to the small of her back again. He craved the closeness and would take any connection she’d allow.
“Thankfully, I figured that out, but I digress.” She laughed.
Duke was glad she didn’t shrug off his touch, because he had a feeling she needed it for whatever was to come. Her voice was a little shaky.
“Back to the story of the shipping company, which is also, by the way, the reason we have no paved roads, no cars.” Her smile faded. “They brought in the trucks and equipment, and I guess one of my relatives was out in the late afternoon taking a walk through town and one of the workers was drunk and driving a truck…” She slowed her pace, and Duke could feel her breathing deeply.
They came to the edge of the woods and stepped into a beautiful meadow. Her eyes swept over the grass and flowers. “Legend has it that the elders who had purchased the property saw her death as an omen. They stopped all work and declared that there would be no cars on the island, and of course, no roads. Ever.”
“That’s a very sad story. I can only imagine the devastation your family must have felt after purchasing all this beautiful land, with hopes of a future that you could pass down for generations.”
“I know, but the thing is,” she said as she walked through the meadow toward a cemetery surrounded by an ornate iron fence. “I think the island is actually better this way. Not that I’m happy that someone lost her life. Of course I’m not. But can you imagine huge ships coming in at all hours? Or cars driving all over the island, with all that noise and exhaust?”
Yes, he could imagine, only in his vision they were ferries bringing tourists several times throughout the day and day cruises leaving from the island. The line between investor and man blurred, and Duke worked hard to keep his perspective as an investor.
They stood at the gate to the cemetery, looking out over the sea of headstones, many faded so badly the etchings were illegible. There were fresh flowers on a few of the graves, and Duke was suddenly struck with the powerful connections Gabriella and her family had to their ancestors. He thought of how little he knew about his distant relatives, how removed he felt from them. He could see by the serious look in Gabriella’s eyes how much a part of her life the memories of those who came before her remained.
“When my grandfather first asked me to show you the island, I wasn’t sure I could do it. I mean, honestly, you know I hate the idea of selling.”
He knew, all right. It was evident in everything she said and did.
“This was the first place I came when I returned a few days before you arrived. I was hoping to get some sort of a vibe, you know? Like my ancestors would give me a sign about whether I should run you off the island or not.”
“I guess I don’t blame you, but I’m glad you didn’t push me away too hard.”
“Not for lack of trying. But…I might have wanted to ruin your suit and bore you with the simplicity of the life here and the small-town attitudes of the residents so that you hightailed it back to the city.”
He stepped in closer. “It’s going to take a lot more than that to make me run.”
Heat flared in her eyes, telling him that she knew he wasn’t talking about staying for the investment alone. Unable to deny himself the chance to catch all that heat, he stepped even closer as he asked, “And what did you feel, Gabriella, when you came up here that day?”
She licked her lips, and for a moment Duke thought she’d give in to the pulse of energy filling the space between them, drawing him closer, but she turned away, breaking their connection.
“Nostalgia, mostly,” she said just above a whisper. “I thought I’d be here with them. Live and die right here on the island.”
The longing in her voice made Duke want to gather her into his arms and hold her, tell her that she should move back to the island if this was where she was happiest. It made him want to forget he was there on business and put all his energy, all his emotions, into Gabriella. But she’d drawn the line in the sand, and he was trying—oh, how he was trying—to respect her need for distance. He was already wrestling with how to tell Pierce that he didn’t want to keep fighting his feelings for her, no matter what it might mean for their investment.
“My mom and the other women from town bring flowers to the graves pretty often.” Her change of subject didn’t diminish the longing in her voice, but it did convey her slipping behind her walls again instead of talking more about her feelings about not living on the island.
“Your mom seems very sweet,” he said. “I was surprised that she knew Greek so well.”
“Can you imagine being a member of my family and not knowing Greek?”
She turned and stumbled. Duke caught her around the waist, and she laughed. He was falling for that sweet laugh of hers, and as he gazed into the simmering heat in her beautiful eyes, he knew he was falling for so much more than just her laugh.
Chapter Seven
GABRIELLA WAS SMOOTH as butter in court, going up against the wolves of New York City, but she had a tingling in the pit of her stomach just being near Duke, her pulse quickened with every look, and she felt anything but grounded. He was looking at her in that same way he had in the big house, like it didn’t matter if she floated off the ground—which she just might around him—he’d be right there with her, following her up to cloud nine and bringing her back down to safety when she was ready.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m
such a klutz today.” She took a step back, but his grip remained, searing through her flimsy dress. She gazed up at him and his eyes darkened. His lips were so close she could kiss them if she went up on her toes.
“I’m thinking about setting up obstacles along every path of our tour.” His voice was thick with desire, making his words more of a promise than a tease.
Gabriella’s chest warmed with the idea of falling into his arms again. I’m supposed to be working with an investor, not falling for one. She forced herself to step back, out of his arms, and try to pull herself together.
She didn’t know how to respond, so instead she continued their walk and headed back into the woods. At least here she’d have more to distract her from her thoughts. But even as she tried to focus on the sounds of squirrels scurrying on the forest floor, she felt like she was scurrying, too. Scurrying closer to Duke with every minute they spent together and then pulling away once again.
She stepped over a log, and he touched her arm. It was nothing more than a gentle, steadying touch, but somehow it felt intensely intimate and filled the silence with more questions. Should I let this happen? I want to let this happen. I can’t let this happen. But oh, sweet baby Jesus, I want this to happen.
“This reminds me of where I grew up.” Duke’s voice tore her from her thoughts. “My folks live on a few acres. My brothers used to spend hours in the woods.”
“How many brothers do you have?” she asked, thankful for something else to concentrate on besides how his lips would feel on hers.
He reached over and brushed a leaf from her hair, and his gaze moved slowly from her eyes to her mouth, making her salivate for a taste of him. Yes, kiss me. No, don’t. Yes, please. Oh shit. Her heart raced with anticipation of the kiss she shouldn’t want. The kiss that could be her undoing—and lead to trouble for her family’s negotiations. She couldn’t remember a single time when she’d felt so drawn to a man, or so completely and utterly like she was any man’s sole focus. Maybe it was the magic of the island, the peaceful afternoon, or being alone with Duke that was making her romanticize their time together. But as his gaze made its way back up to her eyes, warm and inviting, she had a feeling she could be anywhere with him and the thrum of desire would be just as overwhelming.
Her question forgotten, “You’re not what I expected,” slid from her lips. She had no idea where the confession came from. He wasn’t full of pomp and circumstance, too busy to get to know the residents or get to know the island—or her. He was intelligent and careful, sweet and strong at once, and unhurried in their time together.
“I had no expectations,” he said as he slid his strong arms around her and tugged her in close. “You are…” He searched her eyes, as if they held the words he was searching for. “A lovely surprise. One I might not be strong enough to resist.”
She bit her lip to trap the sounds of want filling her lungs.
“We shouldn’t…” Her whisper sounded weak, even to herself.
“You’re right.” He touched his forehead to hers. “Do you want me to let you go?”
No, no, no, no, no!
She opened her mouth to answer, and Duke lowered his face to hers, staring into her eyes with the hunger and urgency she wanted to feel inside her, around her, consuming her. She went still, waiting, hoping, that his next breath would become hers, and then his mouth captured hers. Their tongues crashed together, exploring, taking, filling the need that had been swelling between them. He fisted his hand in her hair, setting the moan she’d trapped earlier free. He swallowed it down, and as his hard body pressed against hers, he released a guttural moan of his own, setting her entire body aflame. He cupped her ass with one hand. It had been so long since she’d felt even a stir of passion, and this—this kiss, his body, his heat—overwhelmed her, engulfed her, made her want more, more, more. His thick thighs moved between her legs, and their bodies came together. Good Lord. The delicious friction caused her head to tip back.
“You’re so…God, Gabriella, you’re beautiful,” he said against her neck, pressing kisses to her heated flesh.
Her leg hitched up his hip, and he pressed his hard length against her core, tearing another greedy moan from her lungs. Her hands pushed into his hair, over his muscular back, holding his hard, broad chest to her aching, taut nipples. He claimed her mouth again, and she wanted his big hands to touch more of her, to feel the wet heat between her legs. The way his hips moved, with perfect precision, slow and sensual, hard and intense, she knew he’d be an intensely passionate lover.
“Gabriella,” he said against her lips, then pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. “God, Gabriella, you ignite everything inside me.”
She couldn’t respond, couldn’t think beyond her wild, crazy need to have him, and when he took a small step back, the whoosh of air between them felt as vast as an ocean. She clutched at his shirt, wanting him back against her.
“That was…” She had no more words to give.
“Incredible.” The heat between them lingered, turning his gaze sinful, and just as quickly, thoughtful. “You didn’t want this,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“I did.” A nervous laugh mixed with the desire tumbling out of her.
He tugged her close again, grinding his thick arousal against her as he said, “I’m sorry. I need you close. I can’t...You undo me, baby. But you didn’t want the complication. We shouldn’t go further. It’ll muddy the waters. But I can’t seem to let you go.”
“Yes,” was all she could manage, because damn it, he was right. She wouldn’t do her family any favors by sleeping with the man who held the purse strings to their future. But his heart was beating fast and hard against hers, and his hand was still tangled in her hair, causing a pinch of titillating pain, while his other hand was splayed across her back, searing a five-fingered burn into her skin.
In the next breath she was up on her toes and he was meeting her halfway. They feasted on each other’s mouths, taking what they so desperately wanted, despite knowing they shouldn’t. He sank deeper into her, all those hard muscles against her willing body. And she knew—God, how she knew—she would strip off her clothes and lay down on the forest floor for him.
**
DUKE DEEPENED THE kiss despite knowing he shouldn’t, but everything about Gabriella drew him in, from her vulnerability to her strength. He was powerless to resist her. Gabriella clung to him like he was her buoy, and he clung right back, knowing she was his storm, the woman he had no business touching but couldn’t deny. She kissed him eagerly, tearing a need from the depths of his soul. He was drowning in her, but this kiss—holy hell, this kiss—was ravaging his last shred of self-control.
“Gabriella,” he panted out, hearing the desperation in his voice, before their mouths collided again, dragging him under as she moved with him.
Her luscious curves conformed to his hard flesh, and when she lifted her leg against his hip again, rocking all that sweet heat against his aching arousal, their connection ignited. But this was Gabriella, the woman whose family had welcomed him to the island, offered him the chance to make something more of it. The woman he didn’t want to only fuck—though he had absolutely no idea how or why he knew that, he knew it was one hundred percent true. He wanted to fuck her, yes. What man wouldn’t want to bury himself balls deep in such a gorgeous, glorious woman? But he wanted more. He wanted to consume her, to cherish her, love every inch of her with the tenderness and roughness she desired. He wanted to be the man who made her sigh dreamily, whimper, and cry out his name in the throes of passion. He wanted to steal the sadness he saw in her eyes when she talked about being forced to leave the island and never let sadness touch her again.
He pulled back with the need to see the woman who was turning him inside out at breakneck speed. Her eyes fluttered open, heavy with desire. Her lips were pink from their rough kisses, and he knew the rosy flush of her skin covered every inch of her beautiful flesh. He could feel her heat against him, beneath his hands
, searing into him from her hungry gaze, and he was done. Completely, utterly wrecked.
“Fuck,” he whispered, cringing at the curse. His body was trembling with the need for more as badly as hers was. “Sorry. For the curse, not the kiss.”
Chapter Eight
AFTER A LONG while of gathering their wits about them, they eventually began walking again, without talking any further about the lust that consumed them. At first their hands brushed as they walked, like teenagers feeling out their first date’s willingness to commit to a simple hand-holding. But nothing was simple about the heat simmering between them. It was fraught with potential complications. Gabriella wanted to grab his hand, to guide it to her breast as she kissed him again. She could see from the tightening around Duke’s jaw that he was fighting it, too. She didn’t know how things had changed so quickly, but as she wrestled with slowing down the heat between them, Duke claimed her hand and squeezed, as if he could read her thoughts.
“We should talk about this,” he said.
Gabriella tried her best to slip into lawyer mode, to protect herself. But it was a halfhearted effort at best. “Agreed.”
“There’s something strong between us, Gabriella, and I’d like to explore whatever it is, but not at the expense of your relationship with your family. Or at the expense of the investment going bad. I want to explore that, too.”
“I understand.” She did, because she felt the same way, but she didn’t have an answer beyond that.
He stopped walking and faced her, looking like everything she could ever want, and scaring the hell out of her because of it. He reached for her hands.
“My business is risk management, and I know you’re worth the risk for me. What I’m not sure of is if I’m worth the risk for you.”
Claimed by Love (Love in Bloom: The Ryders, Book 2): Duke Ryder Page 7