by Dani Collins
“I never met anyone who—” tempted me the way you did “—seemed worth going to the trouble of filing the papers. You didn’t break me, Leon.”
“Good,” he said after a pulse beat. “I don’t want that kind of power.”
“Too much responsibility?” she guessed in a voice that was strained by the reactions and emotions she was trying to stifle.
“Yes.” He spoke frankly, but gently. His fist was resting on her shoulder and his fingertip extended to play with her ear. “You weren’t even tempted to have a casual hookup, though? You’re so passionate.”
“Not really. Not if I can go five years without sex,” she joked weakly.
“You’re very passionate. That hasn’t changed.” His tickling touch dipped into the hollow beneath her ear, making her scalp tighten. “This may come as a surprise to you, but most people do whatever I tell them to do. You’ve always pushed back on me. It’s frustrating, but I have to respect you for it.”
“You must bring it out in me.” She was trying to keep it light, even though his caress was making runnels of heat invade her limbs. If he knew what was happening beneath these blankets—the flush of sensual heat likely turning her skin pink, the peaked nipples that were stinging with anticipation, the flooding heat settling in an ache between her thighs—he would be on her like a wolf on a fawn.
“We do seem to play off one another, don’t we? I haven’t forgotten.” It was a smoky warning that made her want to wriggle closer.
She pushed her palm against the weight of the blanket where his chest was radiating warmth into her side, resisting him as much as reminding herself that she ought to.
“Easy, sailor. After five years, I’m thinking a stiff breeze is all you need to get excited. Don’t pretend your reaction has anything to do with me.”
“See, that makes me think you’ve forgotten how good we are together.”
He hadn’t moved, and she was suddenly fixated on how close he was, willing him to close the distance between his mouth and hers.
She should have said something pithy, but wound up saying, “Perhaps I have.”
And slowly, very, very slowly, the shadow of his shoulders shifted. His head lowered. The tip of his nose brushed hers and the heat of his lips settled feathery soft across hers. She let her mouth open slightly while he ever so gently deepened the contact, searching out the fit before he sealed them in a deep kiss and plunged them into a molten sea of passion.
She made a throaty noise of shock, expecting playful excitement, not this sharp jab of wanton hunger. Her breath dried up while her whole body flushed, accosted by lascivious longing.
He stilled as though their combined reaction startled him, too. Maybe he was weighing whether her noise had been a protest.
She brought her hand from beneath the covers to grab his wrist, silently conveying that she wanted him to keep kissing her.
He pressed into it, opening his mouth wider to ravage her unreservedly. His wrist twisted against her grip and his fingers slid between hers. He pressed her hand onto the pillow beside her head as he let his weight come over her and crush her into the mattress.
She was smothered by his weight, trapped by his bulk and the covers and the way he was making love to her mouth. It was magnificent. She moaned her encouragement, abandoning herself to the madness they conjured.
He made a ragged noise of suffering as he dragged his mouth to nip at her jaw and skate down the side of her neck.
“It’s better than I remembered,” he said hotly. “You taste so damned good.” His mouth came back to bite her earlobe, then suck, sending showering tingles through her. “Stop me.”
She only turned her head to seek his mouth with hers. Damn these covers between them. She writhed, pushing her hip against the blunted shape of him. He closed his legs outside hers, trapping her into a tight line pinned beneath him.
She arched to feel more of him, moaning into his mouth as they played their tongues together. She wanted to touch him, feel him. Strip naked and take him inside her.
He leaned on one elbow and raked the blankets from between them, down to her waist. His free hand swept up to cup her breast, plumping it against the soft cotton of the T-shirt she wore.
“Seriously. Stop me or I’m going to keep going,” he warned in a growl even as he dropped his head and opened his hot mouth over her nipple.
The muted sensation was strong enough she wanted to lift her knees and curl protectively. She couldn’t. She was at his mercy.
The cotton quickly dampened as he lightly bit and sucked at her through the fabric, the attentions sending hot, stabbing sensations into her loins.
At least her arms were free. She roamed her hands greedily across his back, soaking up the heat of his shoulders and biceps through the fabric of his shirt, the hot skin of his neck beneath his collar. She filtered the coarse curls on his head through her fingers and opened her mouth against the soft-rough stubble on his chin.
She wanted to beg him to do filthy things with her. Her body said it for her as she drew him back to kiss her and gave him her tongue.
He blatantly sucked and worked his own against hers, jabbing erotic thrills into her with the flagrant play, drawing more moans from her that echoed against his.
He shifted atop her, allowing her to open her legs beneath the blankets, welcoming his weight between her thighs. He rocked against her as he bit her bottom lip. She lifted her hips into his muted thrusts and clung weakly to him.
“Do you have a—”
Illi began to cry in the other room.
Condom was left unspoken. They were both frozen and pulsating.
Leon swore. He dropped his head into the pillow next to Tanja’s ear, panting as though he’d been at the bottom of the sea and finally made it to the surface.
In the next second, he rolled off her, arm across his face to hide his chiseled features.
She weakly pushed her legs toward the edge of the mattress.
“I’ll get her,” he said in a strained voice. “Just give me a sec.”
She was equally addled but desperate to flee. What had just happened? A cataclysm, obviously, but how? Why? What did it mean?
“I’ll go.” She kicked her way out of the tangled covers and snatched up the robe off the chair. “It’s okay, baby doll,” she murmured as she made her way through to the lounge. “Mommy’s here.”
She was still unsteady on her feet, but she didn’t think it was remnants of her illness. She had nearly succumbed to Leon’s lovemaking, and that was like a near-death experience.
She bent to collect Illi out of the cot and experienced a rush of light-headedness when she came back up.
“I had the chef make a bottle before I put her down for the night,” Leon said from the shadows of the corridor, near the door to the head. “It’s in the fridge behind the bar. If you can manage her by yourself, I’ll shower.”
“Of course. Thank you.”
He walked into the head and firmly closed the door.
CHAPTER FIVE
LEON DISAPPEARED WITHOUT a word after his shower.
Tanja put Illi back down and slept fitfully, waking alone in the stateroom when Illi did. She called down to order Illi’s morning bottle, then sang to her as she changed her.
It was such a beautiful morning that Tanja opened one of the doors to the starboard deck, letting the fresh air stream in. They seemed to be at anchor, sheltered near a wall of stone with patches of greenery growing in the steps and crevices. It was stunning, the reflection nearly perfect in the calm blue water.
“Cythera Island,” Kyle informed her when he delivered Illi’s bottle. “Kýrios Petrakis asked me to relay that his team from Athens will arrive shortly—” He nodded toward the door she’d opened as the growing sound of a helicopter could be heard beyond. “Breakfast will be served on the lido deck if you feel up
to joining them. If not, he’ll check in with you later.”
“That must have been an early start,” she noted. “I’ll come down as soon as I dress.” She was actually starving and anxious to get a grip on how things would proceed.
Plus, she’d rather not face Leon alone. She’d rather not face him at all. Their make-out session had kept her tossing and turning with sexual frustration and mortification. If Illi hadn’t interrupted them, she would have made love with him. Tanja kept telling herself deprivation had caused her to react with such abandon, but Leon had lost none of his skill or appeal. One kiss and she’d been right back to the crush that had made her so reckless five years ago.
What he’d ever seen in her remained a mystery. Five years of forgoing carbs made stale bread look really appetizing, she supposed.
No matter why they’d succumbed to impulse, the fact was that the uneasy truce they’d established was impacted. Tanja’s sense of who they were, individually and as a couple, had vanished. When she had been able to dismiss him as that jerk who had abandoned her, she had faced him without self-consciousness over whether he found her attractive or liked her. She’d been convinced he felt nothing toward her or he wouldn’t have left her.
With the memory of his hands sweeping away the blankets and his mouth chasing across hers, however, she was plunged into overanalyzing and second-guessing. She eyed her crinkle cotton skirt and pale pink sleeveless T-shirt with a wish that she possessed something more flattering—or at least had her old curves to fill out what hung off her like wet laundry on a rack. She was still very pale, her lips almost white, her hair fine and flat.
Was this the real reason he’d forsaken her? Her lack of appeal and sophistication?
Who cared? She wanted him out of her life.
Didn’t she?
Leon wasn’t as feckless as she’d judged him. He was infuriating in his lack of remorse where Zach and the loss of her father’s marina was concerned, but he’d explained enough that she understood better the pressures that had pushed him to act the way he had. The things he’d said about his father were particularly chilling. She was proud of him for trying to make reparations, but the experience had clearly left an indelible scar on him, one that would be with him always.
Her heartache on his behalf didn’t change her desire to divest herself of a marriage that was nothing more than a piece of paper, though. She couldn’t remain married in name only forever.
The problem was, his passionate kisses had reawakened a desire to have...something. With someone.
Not him, of course. He didn’t believe in lifelong commitments and didn’t want children.
Illi had finished her bottle and was rolling and squirming, ready to take on the world. Tanja could have stood there angsting over Leon and her appearance for the rest of the day, but she gathered her daughter and searched out the lido deck.
The dining area next to the main swimming pool was sometimes called the beach, Kyle had informed her.
Tanja emerged into the shadow of an awning, but the glare off the pool and the gleaming, polished deck made her squint. The view beyond was open to the stern. Rocky islands rose from an impossibly blue sea, reaching toward a cerulean sky. The salt-scented breeze caught her skirt, playing it against her shins in a tickling caress. Soft notes of a bouzouki came from hidden speakers while casual voices milled over a buffet spread.
“Tanja.” Leon broke away to approach her. He wore crisp linen pants in a bone color and a collared T-shirt in rust red. He moved with his usual panther-like grace, stealing her breath. He’d tidied up around his stubble, but she couldn’t read his expression, thanks to his mirrored sunglasses. “Good morning.”
He casually claimed Illi and lowered his chin to say good morning to the baby in Greek, then caught Illi’s hand when she tried to put a palm print on his sunglasses. His thumb tucked into her palm and she curled her tiny fingers over it.
That small gesture undid all the stern lectures Tanja had given herself five minutes ago.
“How are you feeling?” Leon asked her.
For one heart-stopping moment, Tanja thought he was asking about last night. In front of all these people. And everyone stopped what they were doing to look at her as though they were also curious to know how she felt after some heavy petting with her estranged husband.
As her stomach swooped and panged, however, she remembered she was sick.
“Feeling much better,” she said in a strangled voice. “No fever. I’m actually quite hungry.”
“Good. Let me introduce you.” He drew her toward the half-dozen men and women in casual but crisp business wear. A few gave side-eyes at Leon’s comfortable wrangling of Illi, but they offered Tanja warm smiles.
“Good morning,” Tanja said shyly as she tried to memorize the names of two different lawyers, a PR manager, a photographer, Leon’s PA, and a stylist who looked at her the way her brother looked at a salvaged boat—like scraping the seaweed and barnacles would be a ton of work but hopefully worth the effort.
“Help yourself,” Leon said to Tanja, nodding at the heaping platters of brunch items.
He moved to where an infant swing had been suspended in the shade near the head of the table and secured Illi into it. He gave it a nudge, and they all laughed at the way Illi squealed and began to happily kick her legs.
Moments later, when Tanja came to the table with her filled plate, Leon loomed beside her, holding the chair closest to Illi, to the left of the head of the table.
His gallantry flustered her. Was he trying to show off?
If he noticed her blush, he didn’t let on.
“Kyrkos texted that you don’t need antibiotics. Rest, fluids, and vitamins.” He nodded at the pill bottle standing next to her water glass.
“Thanks. Did you ask what I should take for the rage blackout over having my child exploited?” she asked in an undertone.
“Ha.” His barked laugh made everyone turn their heads, wanting in on the joke. “I already know what to take for that.” The corner of his mouth curled with a lack of mercy. “The sweet serum of revenge. I’ve already ordered it.”
She widened her eyes. “In the form of?”
“I’ve rescinded my offer to host him and his wife aboard this yacht. Presumably, whatever Cameron gets for the photo is sufficient compensation for his house call. The doctor’s ex-wife and her new beau, however, have been invited to enjoy a month aboard Poseidon’s Crown in the location of their choice.”
“Oof.” Tanja sat back against the cushions in her chair. “You’re not a man to cross, are you?”
“I’m really not,” he said with a flinty smile.
Tanja’s heart went cold as she remembered she had crossed Leon.
“I’ve spoken to Georgiou about how things were left on Istuval.” Leon nodded at the lawyer on his right. “We’ll have several meetings through the rest of the day to address how we’ll proceed. Eat up.”
She looked at the scrumptious tropical fruits and flaky pastries before her, but her appetite was gone.
* * *
Leon had managed to keep his hands and lips off women for five years. There had been nights when he’d thought he would go around the bend with sexual frustration, but aside from ogling the occasional pair of legs or a really nice rack, he’d managed to keep his libido firmly leashed.
Until last night when he had completely lost his head.
Was that what celibacy did to a man? Because he shouldn’t have gone from zero to a hundred in the space of a sigh. He’d still been catching up on sleep from pulling an all-nighter aboard the trimaran. And he’d been in a terrible mood, peeved about a lot of things, not least that one old friend had betrayed him while the other clearly couldn’t stand him. His own hypocrisy annoyed him most of all. He was stung that Zach still resented him over their broken deal, but he had no intention of forgiving the opportunisti
c doctor for taking advantage of him. Yes, he was a blackened kettle calling out the pot.
When he’d settled on the bed next to Tanja, he had only wanted to turn off his brain and sleep. He hadn’t even allowed himself to fall deeply asleep. He’d been listening for the baby so she wouldn’t wake Tanja.
Tanja’s restlessness had tripped something in him, though. He’d woken in a rush of sexual awareness that he might have ignored if their conversation hadn’t turned so intimate.
Why had he felt compelled to tell her he’d been forgoing sex? It wasn’t that he felt embarrassed or proud of it. He had never worn sexual conquests as a badge so a lack of them didn’t prickle his ego.
But it had been a profoundly intimate thing to reveal. She had said that small thing about her parents and he’d had a flash of admiration for them. Of wishing he was a tiny bit like them instead of so much like his own father.
Then she had practically dared him to prove they still had chemistry, and the next thing he’d known he’d been trying to sate the most powerful sexual hunger he’d ever experienced. He’d been close to losing himself like an adolescent—and they’d had layers of clothing and blankets between them. What would have happened if they’d been naked?
He knew what would have happened. With a flood of heat straight to his groin, he vividly recalled Tanja’s pale, lithe form straddling him the first time they’d made love. It was a favorite image in the highlight reel that he had replayed thousands of times since their very short marriage. He had believed it was nothing more than an embellished memory. They’d had fun for a few weeks, but sex with Tanja hadn’t been any more profound than his other intimate experiences.
He had clung to that conviction until last night.
Now he was seeing his disinterest in other women in a different light. In the last five years, anytime he’d felt a glimmer of attraction toward someone new, he had reminded himself he was married. That he had scruples.
Did he, though? Or had his instinctual turning away gone deeper?