The Goddess

by Robyn Grady

  “It’s said that when Dionysus and Carya first kissed,” he went on, “all the birds in Greece began to sing.”

  The silk of her dress, moved by the breeze, fluttered against her body; every curve and peak beneath was thrown into tantalizing relief. When his gaze met hers again, her eyes were glistening. He tried to read the emotion waiting there. Apprehension?

  No.

  Anticipation.

  “Maybe the birds started singing on this island first,” she said.

  His hand slid along the rail toward hers. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth before she cast a look out over the surrounding trees again. “All the birds are asleep now though.”

  “Perhaps we should wake them.”

  “Wake them how?”

  His hand scooped around her waist. Bringing her close, he inhaled her lavender scent and murmured, “I’ll show you how.”

  Chapter Six

  When Darius’s lips touched hers and lingered, Helene let her eyes drift shut. A heartbeat later, he drew her closer, and she dissolved like a tablespoon of sugar in hot water. One warm palm cupped her nape and gently angled her head. As the kiss created in heaven deepened, Helene leaned in more. When the hand on the small of her back slid lower, her pulse began to pound in a way that left her reeling.

  Out of breath, she broke away.

  His mouth found hers again and this time he held her so securely against him, every cell in her body seemed to catch fire. Rubbing against the hard span beneath his shirt, her breasts felt so full. Their tips felt so sensitive. Through to her core, she was tingling. Everything, everywhere, sizzled and ached for his touch.

  Darius’s mouth finally left hers, but his arms remained, iron bands supporting her.

  “Listen.” His smile grazed her lips. “The birds are singing now.”

  The next kiss was even deeper. A thousand times hotter. With his mouth covering hers, his tongue parted her lips and a kernel formed, glowing and throbbing deep inside of her. As the stroke of his tongue stirred that spellbinding beat, her head swam, and she clung on to his shirt .

  He finally drew away, and she slumped. The backs of his fingers traced her hot cheek, gently lifted her chin.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She managed a nod.

  “I should let you sit down,” he said. “Eat something.”

  “I’m not hungry,” she got out. Just…dizzy.

  He tilted her chin higher and searched her eyes. “Perhaps I should kiss you again.” His slow, knowing grin left her even more light-headed. “That’s what you had planned when you put on that dress, isn’t it? You wanted to tempt me.”

  “I didn’t think I was the kind of girl a prince would want to kiss.”

  “You had no idea?” He didn’t sound convinced. Then his lips brushed her temple, a frisson of heat licked up her middle, and she melted all over again.

  “I imagined,” she confessed.

  She’d hoped.

  As he pressed her close again, he traced soft kisses over her brow before he whispered against the shell of her ear. “I want to do more than kiss you, Helene.”

  When her knees buckled, he held her close enough to feel the ridge beneath his trousers press against her belly. Helene cupped his bristled jaw, and this time she kissed him.

  As he curled over her and his tongue pushed past her teeth, she coiled an arm around his neck and gave herself over to sensations she’d never known before. Nerve-endings fired, the world dropped away, and she knew. This was the emotion she’d wondered about all this time. This was the thrill that left a woman feeling both deliciously lost and finally found.

  Here was the man who could make her fly.

  When his mouth left hers, she bit her lip to stop a sigh from escaping. She was trembling. On fire. But he didn’t sweep her up into his arms. He didn’t carry her away. Rather, in the flickering light, his gaze seemed to have sharpened. Thoughtful, he brushed hair back from her brow. After he kissed that spot, he took one step away.

  “I ought to give you some time,” he said.

  She tried to think. Time for what?

  She reached for him again, but he caught her hand, brought her wrist to his lips, and nuzzled halfway up her arm. Shutting his eyes, he drew in a breath and groaned it out.

  “You’re difficult to resist, Helene.” He lowered her arm then raised himself to his full height. “I’ll eat in my room tonight. In the morning, we’ll talk.”

  Helene held onto the rail. She wanted him to kiss her again, to hold her until she couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Daydreaming about Darius Vasily as a lover was one thing. Knowing he desired her, too, felt surreal. She didn’t want to talk. Didn’t need more time.

  But…maybe he did.

  She could admit that draping herself in silk had as much to do with hoping to provoke a reaction as finding something different to wear. Still, she’d never expected this response. But already he’d thought ahead. Tomorrow she’d be back in denim shorts serving meals, and he would be focused on his future, which was a royal light-year away from hers. If they took this to the next level, in the morning he could regret it. He might even feel uneasy enough to send her away.

  Helene glanced at the food. She didn’t want to risk spoiling or losing the rest of her time here. If he needed an excuse to douse the flames, she’d give him one.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I think I do need some time. But you stay out here. I had something to eat before you came in.” She started off. “Think I’ll just go to bed. Lie down.”

  When he caught her arm again that same delicious heat wove through her blood.

  “I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he said.

  “I’m not embarrassed.” Shrugging him off, she put on a smile. “I’m tired. That’s all.”

  She muttered a goodnight. With his gaze burning a hole in her back, she held her head high and walked steadily away.

  …

  The next morning, Helene had finished the dishes when Darius appeared, his shoulders filling the doorway. The line between his brows said he wasn’t pleased. Was he disappointed she hadn’t joined him for his usual late breakfast?

  Last night, she’d said she wasn’t embarrassed. But later, alone in her room, she relived again and again those dynamite kisses, how she’d practically whimpered in his arms. Then she recalled his hesitation. His reasoning that she might need more time.

  All through the night her cheeks had burned. Over and over, she’d remembered and cringed. By the time she’d crawled out of bed, bleary-eyed, she wondered how she would face him again.

  Now, however, she steeled herself and sent an airy smile before casually wiping her hands on a cloth. But she didn’t speak. She was almost worried what she might say.

  “I thought you might like to join me for a walk?” He took his time buttoning up a fresh shirt. “Of course, if you’re busy…”

  Keeping her eyes off his exposed chest, she slid the cloth to one side. “Not particularly.”

  “It’s a nice day out.”

  Flicking a glance out the window, she concurred. “Clear skies. Light breeze.”

  He narrowed his eyes. If he was trying to work this out, it wasn’t difficult. He might be a prince, but if he harbored any notions about making another move, he’d better come packing both pistols this time.

  He grabbed an apple off the counter, rubbed it on a sleeve. “I missed you at breakfast.”

  “The bread and preserves were on the table. Did you have trouble making coffee?”

  About to bite his apple, Darius’s gaze narrowed again. Then a brow slowly arched.

  “No trouble,” he drawled.

  She rearranged yesterday’s flowers in their vase. “Lunch will be ready when you get back.”

  “So you don’t want to come?”

  “Why don’t you decide for me?”

  Before he chomped into that apple, she was certain that he grinned.

&nbs
p; “Get some shoes,” he said, chewing and turning on his heel. “I’ll meet you at the door.”

  When she was alone again, Helene gripped the edge of the counter. Now, if only her stomach would quit flip-flopping all over the place. She couldn’t put this off. At some stage they had to get this “kissing in the moonlight” situation sorted. If he apologized for his behavior last night, she would apologize for overreacting, too.

  But maybe he’d decided that any fallout from a successful seduction would all be too hard. Perhaps he’d decided to kick her off this island after all, particularly given her “make your own coffee” remark.

  Of course, there was always the chance he wanted to pick up where they’d left off.

  Helene pulled the plug and tried not to jog to her quarters. She had one sneaker on and was pushing on the other when she hopped back out of the room. At the door, before the gilt-framed mirror, Darius stood polishing off his fruit. He gestured toward the opened doors.

  “After you.”

  They strolled down the long, winding path that led to the beach. But rather than turning right toward the cave, he veered left. They took a track that meandered through soaring columns of pine trees and overlooked the dazzling sun-kissed sea. Other than the wash of waves, everything was hushed.

  “It’s so peaceful here,” she said as they rounded a high shoulder.

  “Not too quiet?”

  She gave him a look. “Why would you say that?”

  “Just remembering your lust for adventure.”

  She plucked a wild blueberry from a bush. “If I lust for adventure now, it’s because I’ve been deprived.” She popped the ripe berry into her mouth.

  “But you like your life in the States?”

  “Sure. But it’s nothing like this. Before graduating, all I seemed to do was study or rack up hours at my part-time job. Oh, and try to convince my mother that in my spare time I didn’t hang with the wrong crowd smoking weed or stealing cars. I swear, when I’m a mom, kill me if I turn paranoid about every tiny thing.”

  Kicking a pinecone, he chuckled.

  “But this…” Closing her eyes, Helene turned her face toward the dappled sunshine and inhaled the crisp woodsy scent. “This is pure freedom. A slice of heaven on earth.”

  Particularly with Darius walking alongside of her and that wave of discomfort from last night gradually easing.

  When the path forked, he led her down a trail that ran toward another gorgeous bay. While the shore was laced with scallops of sea-foam, the hillside and beach were filled with a flower Helene knew but had never seen in such a cloud—everywhere she looked she saw tall stalks, some flopping under their own weight, covered in little white flowers.

  “These would look amazing in a vase.”

  “You won’t need many to fill one.” He leaned down. “Sea squills are big this time of year.”

  While he worked to snap some stems, Helene enjoyed watching how those large hands managed all those teensy flowers. His arm was full when he snapped a final stem, but instead of falling in with the others, this stalk fell forward toward the ground. He grabbed for it. So did she. At the same moment they both caught the stalk, his hand swept over and trapped hers.

  Their eyes locked. Helene’s heart began thumping in her throat while the air between them throbbed and seemed to draw their bodies closer. Then the tip of the sea squill tickled her chin, and, breaking his gaze, Darius let go of his grip. When his hand dropped away, Helene noticed something else embedded in the sand near her feet. Crouching, she scooped it up.

  “A cockleshell.” Darius sat beside her as he laid down the stalks. “They’re everywhere.”

  Helene turned the shell over. “There’s a letter scratched on top.” Her fingertip traced two lines that made a V. “I’ll keep this as a memento.” She added, “If that’s okay?”

  “You don’t need to ask for a shell, Helene.”

  “Are you sure? Because if you’re going to change your mind, I’d rather know now.”

  “You’re not talking about a shell, are you? We’re talking about last night.” He exhaled. “We can go back to how things were before we kissed.”

  “Before you kissed me,” she pointed out.

  “Or I could take you in my arms again right now.” A grin curved his lips as he bent forward. “You know I want to.”

  Toying with him, she tipped back. “How would I know that?”

  His brows nudged together. “You’re going to make this hard on me, aren’t you?”

  “Probably nowhere near hard enough.”

  Like a big cat, he prowled over. One hand reached out and curled around her waist while the tip of his nose circled hers. When he pressed a barely-there kiss on one side of her mouth, her insides started to heat. Her heart began to race. Somehow she kept a poker-face and heaved out a sigh.

  “That won’t do it, I’m afraid.”

  His lips traced around her jaw, one way then the other. Then his mouth captured hers in a kiss that was light as well as steeped in meaning. As much as she remembered their caresses last night, nothing compared with this. He was tasting her—enjoying her—as if she were a freshly plucked peach.

  Gradually, his mouth left hers. His voice was deep and graveled when he spoke. “This time, I promise, there’ll be no turning back.”

  “Can I think about it?” She feigned a pensive look. “When we’re back at the villa, we can talk more.”

  A dark determination filled his eyes. Next minute his hand snaked around her nape a heartbeat before he stole another brief but blistering kiss. Then he play-slapped her rump and threw out a challenge.

  “I’ll race you.”

  Chapter Seven

  As Darius bolted off—long strides up the hillside, strong arms pumping—Helene grabbed an armful of flowers and her shell, and she high-tailed it after him. She was no match for his athletic gait and speed. When he said he’d race her, he wasn’t joking.

  Along that pine-encased path, he got so far ahead she lost sight of him. Out of breath, with a trail of flowers scattered behind her, she careened around a bend—and there he was, chest heaving, with a big cheeky smile drawn across his handsome face. Then he set off again.

  By the time Helene stumbled through the villa’s doorway, wheezing but exhilarated, she’d lost all the flowers. Darius stood in front of that mirror, his eyes filled with nothing but intent. He closed the distance between them. His mouth landed on hers and their bodies—sweaty and breathless and hungry—roped together.

  He spun her around then crowded her back up against a wall. With one hand splayed out flat near her ear and his lips covering hers, he pinned her with his hips. Her fingers clinging to his sinewy neck, Helene pushed back.

  His hands found her shirt’s hem. The interlock whipped over her head and then he was kissing her again, his tongue probing and twirling and darting with hers. He tasted of apple and raw sexual need, and as he spun her away from the wall, she stuffed her shell into her back pocket and fumbled to release the buttons on his shirt.

  As she smoothed his muscled chest, he unsnapped her bra then wound the shirt off his back. His teeth grazed the slope of her neck as his palm molded over her breast. When his fingers fanned shut and closed over her nipple, he broke the kiss, and his head dropped down.

  Arching into him, she let his arm support her weight as the tip of his tongue swirled and flicked. He switched sides, and her head fell back as her fingers alternatively clenched and raked through his hair. By the time his lips slid down over her ribs, and further, she felt like she was boneless.

  He dragged her shorts down past her thighs and she felt a line of moist kisses dipping below her navel. The denim dropped to her ankles, he caught the sides of her underwear, and he eased them down, too. Then he cupped her behind and the warm moist oval of his mouth dived lower still to the apex at her thighs.

  His tongue swirled a tight wet circle before his head angled, and he oh-so-gently nipped one side. When he kissed her there, she released a
lungful of air in a rush. By the time he found his feet again, she was trembling, in a fog. He swept her up and carried her to his room.

  He laid her on the cool sheets of an unmade bed then wrangled off her shoes. A heartbeat later, their limbs were intertwined again. While her palm sculpted the rock of one shoulder, his weight pushed her onto her back. Then they found each other’s eyes.

  Time seemed to slow. He brushed away hair that had fallen over her face. Leaning into his palm, she concentrated on the rhythm of his heartbeat vibrating against her skin.

  “I won’t ask if you’re all right,” he said.

  She laughed. “No, please don’t do that.”

  “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever catch up.”

  “I hate to think of you twiddling your thumbs,” she teased.

  “I’d have waited.” He nibbled an ear lobe then murmured, “All day if I had to.”

  His sandpaper jaw grazed down her cheek and across her chin, and when he kissed her again in a deeply erotic way she felt some ingenuous part of her drift off and leave her for good. He dropped a run of scorching kisses between her breasts and she shimmied back into the sheet, beyond ready to set every one of her inhibitions free.

  His hot palm trailed along her leg. When his touch slid up the crease between her thighs, her pulse came faster, throbbed deeper. His mouth left her cleavage to cover her lips again. As his tongue played and swirled with hers, fingertips feathered between her folds and came up to wind and gently tug her curls. With his tongue probing and one hand kneading her nape, a finger dipped and hooked inside of her. Groaning in his mouth, she pressed down at the same time as he went deeper. It felt as if he tickled her before he slipped out to stroke over and between her folds. The contact was so light, so skilled… She had to grip the sheet to divert energy and help stem a whimper of longing.

  His finger entered her again, rubbing a certain volatile place that pulsed as it swelled and then smoldered. When her hips lifted and she wrenched at the sheet, he growled against her lips, a sound of deep satisfaction. A second finger joined the first. The next time he rubbed, the sensation shot flames to every nerve-ending in her body from her tingling scalp to her curled little toe.