What the Greek's Wife Needs

by Dani Collins

  Was he arrogant in his triumph when he rose over her? Hell, yes. He looked her over from hairline to the soles of her feet, missing none of the trembling, vanquished aftermath he had caused.

  Did she care that he wore barbaric satisfaction like an aura? Not one iota. She was too sated. Yet empty. Yearning.

  “Do I need a condom?” His voice was such a deep growl it might have originated from the middle of the earth. Like an element. Iron. Or gold.

  She nodded jerkily.

  He sent her a look of amused mock terror as he reached into the nightstand. “There better be one in here.”

  There was. Seconds later, he settled over her and they both sighed at the press of their damp skin, like the sizzle on a hotplate.

  And even though she was dying for him to thrust into her, he kissed her until she was lifting her hips against his hardness again. Inviting him.

  He lightly bit her earlobe and said, “Tell me how much.” The wide crest of his tip pressed against her sensitized flesh, stretching her with a pinch she hadn’t realized she’d missed. It stung a little, but she arched to make it easy for him. He sank all the way in with one slow, inexorable thrust, until they were meshed to the depths of their flesh and she could feel his very heartbeat within her.

  She could have died then, her sense of fulfilment was so complete.

  They kissed, unmoving, his restraint making him shake as he passionately devoured her mouth. Sweet curls of renewed desire grew in coils of increasing tension, prompting her to wrap her arms and legs around him, wanting him deeper. Wanting to stay like this, linked and still. Indelible.

  Eventually he shifted, and the small movement awakened her to the exquisite pleasures awaiting both of them.

  “This,” she groaned under his first lazy thrusts. She scraped her hands from his hair to his neck to his shoulders, down to his lower back and up again, trying to feel all of him at once.

  His guttural noise agreed with her. He held himself on one elbow, his hand hooked beneath her shoulder so he could thrust with more power. He watched her with glittering eyes as she gloried in his lovemaking.

  She welcomed each gentle slam of his hips, moaning with encouragement when he came back with more strength. She had forgotten this. Or hadn’t let herself remember how utterly overwhelming their lovemaking was. Nothing existed but the sharp lines of his face, the pierce of pleasure that went through her with each stroke of his body into hers. Intense yearning held her still for each return, so the reverberations of pleasure spun out to sting her fingertips and toes.

  They were both making animalistic noises, holding back nothing. Hiding nothing. That was the part that made their lovemaking so tremendous and devastating at once. They were watching the other, unable to hide their need, their craving, their rejoicing.

  That honesty was too much. She knew her surrender would be written large, too. She couldn’t bear it, yet she couldn’t resist it. The tension between those imperatives couldn’t be sustained.

  Her nails dug into his shoulders. His fingertips bit into her hip. She clenched her teeth, trying to hold back, trying to maintain her slippery grip on this plateau of incredible connection. His face contorted with his struggle. He quickened his pace.

  “Come,” he commanded in a jagged voice. “Come with me. Do it now.”

  She gave in to the abyss. Pleasure detonated within her, sending her spinning in all directions while he slid his arms under her and bucked heavily into her. His head went back and his neck strained as he shouted his release.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HOW HAD HE left that? That was Leon’s first rational thought when he discarded the condom and flopped back onto the bed beside Tanja, completely spent.

  His next thought was, It’s still too much. He was so raw his chest felt torn open.

  Yet, as the breeze danced across their cooling bodies, he couldn’t make himself do anything but drag her close and tuck her head under his chin. The boneless lassitude in her heavy limbs and the satiated sigh that warmed his collarbone eased something in him.

  “Did we wake Illi?” she asked with tremulous humor.

  “She’d let us know if she was awake.” The kid wasn’t afraid to use the full capacity of her lungs if she decided to lodge a complaint. When he’d taken her out of the swing this morning, she’d publicly denounced him for human rights violations.

  “That was really good.” Tanja kissed his throat, skimming a light touch from his shoulder to his neck, but he felt the shaking that lingered in her. “Thank you.”

  That tiny betrayal of how deeply she’d been affected shook things loose inside him.

  He wanted to pry at least a mental space between them since he couldn’t make himself do it physically, but he had to say, “Thank you,” because this had been better than good. It had been incredible.

  He wished he could blame his powerful release on breaking his celibacy, but he knew it was more than that. He didn’t understand how one woman could strip him down to such an elemental place. Tanja wasn’t particularly unique. He’d met many women who were easy on the eye, smart and funny, tolerant yet assertive. Ones who liked sex as much as he did. Before he’d married, he’d made love with those other women and always enjoyed it, but he had never felt this same deconstruction of his inner self after the fact.

  He’d like to think it was only happening because he had changed from the man he’d been, but if anything, he was more guarded, not less. And Tanja had affected him this way before he’d lost his father and left her. He remembered this same postcoital sensation of exposure that warned his defenses were down.

  Was this why he’d left her and not looked back?

  It was a disturbing thought. He didn’t want to see himself as a child who ran away from something because it was uncomfortable, but that’s exactly the coping strategy he’d employed for his early years. It had been disguised as school exams and regatta trials and whatever pursuits he could conjure as an excuse. It had been an avoidance tactic to escape his troubled home life and the toll it took upon him, plain and simple.

  Since his father’s death, he’d learned to face his problems head-on, though, and did.

  But how could he face and resolve this? He could barely articulate the issue. Tanja wasn’t purposely chipping away at his soul. He was opening up despite every instinct in him warning against it. It went far beyond physical. He had few inhibitions there, but he had revealed things to her about his father and his childhood, things he’d never told anyone. They were the sorts of things that could be used as weapons the way his parents had used their own weaknesses against each other.

  He almost wished Tanja had told him to go to hell when he had made his case for them to resume having sex.

  I’m afraid that if I sleep with you, I’ll fall in love with you.

  He was afraid she would, too. He couldn’t lead her on again, but he couldn’t dodge, run or otherwise distance himself. That would be cowardly.

  The fact was that he wanted to be right where he was, able to put his hands on her as freely as he liked. Drinking in her scent and combing his fingers through the fine strands of her hair as she relaxed with a soft murmur against him.

  With a sudden inhale of realization, she tilted her head back. “What if I never claim it?”

  “What?”

  “The settlement.” A gotcha smile danced around her mouth. “If we never divorce, then I never have to accept your money. I’ve got you, haven’t I?”

  Whatever came into his features caused her expression to flinch and fall into stiff lines.

  “It was a joke,” she said with a note of hurt.

  “I know. It’s fine,” he lied, tucking her face under his chin again, heart unsteady. He was barely able to pick apart the intense emotions that were throbbing like live nerve endings throughout his body. He had sudden visions of the arrows his parents had refused to ce
ase aiming at one another, only this time they were aimed at Tanja.

  No.

  “I grew up with a brother,” she was muttering. “I learned to be competitive. I wanted to prove I could outsmart you, that’s all.” The trusting way she’d been relaxed against him had evaporated. She was nothing but bony, ropy tension now.

  “I know,” he assured her with a single sweep of his palm down her narrow back. But he’d heard more beneath her remark than excitement at finding a loophole. He might not know everything about his wife, but he knew she believed in people and futures and family. “But do you remember what I said about being realistic?” he asked gently.

  She was silent for a long time, but the way she was holding her breath told him she was still awake. Hell, she wasn’t fighting tears, was she? That would kill him.

  When she spoke, her voice held the toughness he’d always admired in her. “I think you underestimate my desire to win,” she said with quiet dignity.

  And she was underestimating his willingness to lose, especially if it meant she and her child would be better off in the long run. He only kissed her forehead and said, “Let’s just enjoy what we have right now.”

  * * *

  Tanja woke in a lingering stupor from their lovemaking. Leon had risen in the night to close all the doors. Within moments of him returning to the bed, they’d been making love again with equally cataclysmic results.

  That had been deeply reassuring, given how he’d reacted to her suggestion they stay married. She hadn’t meant to sound so... Ugh. She threw her arm over her eyes, angry with herself over something that had been a stupid joke.

  One that had brimmed with wistful yearning on her part, she had realized once he’d brutally shut down “forever” as an option. Recalling his “be realistic” warning—twice—caused sharp cracks to fracture from the middle of her heart outward, making all her bones ache.

  Tanja was a hopeful person by nature. She couldn’t help thinking they had something, given that neither of them had slept with anyone else in five years. Their first time falling into bed again had probably registered on nearby seismographs.

  But things were happening much as they had the last time. Leon turned her head. Of course he did. He was a man who had everything—looks and wit and smarts. Wealth and confidence and, as it turned out, a massive soft spot for a baby who wasn’t even his.

  Any woman in the world would find him irresistible and spin a few fantasies about hitching her future to his.

  Tanja had opened her heart to him once already, though. And look what happened. He’d walked away and five years had passed without a word. He had only come to her in Istuval because he’d thought doing her a favor would make their divorce go more smoothly.

  He wanted a divorce. She had to remember that. Leon might want her body, but he didn’t want to make a life with her and her daughter. When all this was over, would he even keep up a relationship with Illi? If Tanja was being realistic, she had to go on the assumption she and Leon would part ways permanently this time.

  Oh, that hurt. It felt like failure, which was silly. Her future would still hold Illi and, hopefully, Brahim. It would be a very rich life. She didn’t need a man to complete it. She and Leon had never stood a real chance anyway. That’s what she was learning.

  Surely they could be friends, though? She “liked” the photos of her first love’s baby and supported her high school boyfriend’s music ambitions by downloading his songs. She and Leon were sharing intensely personal things, their bodies among them. Did all of that mean nothing to him? Would he really be able to walk away and forget her completely?

  As she stared at the ceiling, heart aching, she had to reconcile herself to the fact she might, indeed, mean very little to him. He was a closed-off, compartmentalized type of man.

  “Well, that’s quite an opinion,” she heard Leon say, which made a spike of awareness flash through her, as though he’d read her thoughts, but he was talking to Illi, quiet and indulgent. “I’ve had executives on my payroll who don’t make as much sense as you do. Try to keep it down, though. Mommy is still sleeping.”

  Tanja realized the distant, garbled squawks she kept hearing weren’t a seabird.

  “I’m awake,” she called.

  A pause, then Leon brought Illi in. She was chewing her fist and wearing a fresh onesie.

  Leon, the scoundrel, wore nothing but a pair of low-slung boxers and undiluted sex appeal. The sight of his strong arm curled so securely around her daughter lit up all of Tanja’s biological buttons. Love her. Love us both, she wanted to beg him.

  He set Illi on the rumpled blankets next to her. His expression was shuttered, but his lashes flickered as though his gaze saw through the covers and tracked restlessly over her naked skin.

  “Her bottle is on the way. So is breakfast. I have to make some calls, but we’ll take the helicopter to Athens as soon as we’re ready.”

  “Oh.” Reality. She was starting to hate it. Why couldn’t they float along in this honeymoon-like bubble aboard the yacht?

  His gaze finally hit hers, tangling up with the conflicted yearning twisting in her gut. His was mostly unreadable, but she saw the memories there of their torrid night, the flash of hunger in the way he stopped himself from swooping down over her like a hawk.

  Before she realized what she was doing, she lifted her arm in invitation.

  He dug his knee into the mattress and leaned across Illi’s small, kicking body. The weight of his mouth pressed Tanja onto her back while she received the most tender ravishment imaginable.

  She moaned in a mix of startled reaction and shaken nerves. She hadn’t expected him to drag her so easily into the miasma of need for his mouth, his touch. She was distantly aware of Illi squirming beneath the bridge of his body, but each time he started to draw away, Tanja pressed her fingertips into the back of his neck and he came back. He delved and tasted, and left her hot and dazed and utterly breathless.

  Finally, he disobeyed her urging and lifted away.

  He remained braced over the two of them, his one hand on Tanja’s far side, his gaze tracking over what had to be a very flushed and dazzled expression on her face.

  “Temptress.” It was more accusation than compliment, but his mouth twisted in self-deprecating humor. “Ogling me like I’m ice cream on a hot summer’s day.”

  She folded her wet, swollen lips together and lifted the sheet enough to peek beneath, deliberately teasing him because, when they were like this, they were perfectly aligned.

  “So I am.” She sealed the edge across her breasts and pinned the sheet with her arm. “Too bad I can’t show you. I’m definitely in the mood for ice cream. Not plain vanilla, either.”

  His gaze warmed with amusement and remained locked with hers as he eased back. He touched Illi’s fine hair on his way. As he straightened to stand beside the bed, he spoke in a voice that was more threat or command than the imparting of information.

  “The nanny interviews start today.”

  * * *

  Interlude of flirtation aside, Tanja climbed aboard the helicopter with reservations.

  The romantic in her wanted to believe she was embarking on a chance to see if her marriage could work. She’d never been someone who did anything by half measures so she instinctually wanted to give their union a real chance, but beneath Leon’s hot kiss and patience while she ran around looking for that one worn T-shirt she didn’t need but didn’t want to lose, she felt the inner walls he was erecting against her.

  It hurt and made for a disheartening start to a difficult flight. Leon sat as copilot and Illi cried the whole way. Tanja was frazzled by the time they landed on Leon’s rooftop penthouse in Athens. Leon’s PA, Demitri, met them and showed Tanja to a spare bedroom that had quickly been converted into a nursery for Illi.

  “Decorators will arrive today to take measurements and discuss color s
chemes, but I hope it suffices for the moment?” Demitri asked anxiously.

  Illi had never had a real crib or change table, let alone a surplus of supplies, clothes and toys.

  “It’s perfect,” Tanja assured him, relieved to have somewhere to safely put Illi down since she had worn herself out on the flight and her eyelids were already drooping.

  Tanja tucked her in and carried the baby monitor as she explored the airy living space.

  Much like the yacht, everything was modern and bright and reflective of understated yet undeniable luxury. Beyond the wall of windows, Leon was sitting down with Georgiou at the courtyard dining table next to the infinity pool. Was that the Acropolis in the distance? It was so close it looked like she could swim to the edge of the water and reach out to touch it.

  A middle-aged woman in the kitchen was making coffee and preparing platters filled with dips and bread sticks, olives and cheese, stuffed vine leaves and grilled octopus. She introduced herself as the housekeeper and chef, Valerie.

  Huh. No wonder Leon had never felt a need for his wife to join him.

  “I was hoping for a drink of water,” Tanja said, glancing around for a glass.

  “Sparkling or still?”

  “Tap water is fine.”

  “I have this cucumber water to go with the meze?” Valerie brought a jug from the refrigerator.

  “Um, sure. Thank you.”

  It was the same over-the-top level of service Tanja had experienced on the yacht, and it began to hit her that the yacht was not an exception. This was how Leon lived. He had lived like this all his life. It was disconcerting, making her feel as though she’d been transported into a movie or some other surreal world.

  She would have loved a moment to catch her breath and process it, but she only had time to grab a bite with the men before a parade of appointments tied her up.

  Her stylist from the yacht arrived and brought her into the other spare bedroom, now filled with racks of clothing. “We don’t have to go through all of this right now, but I wanted to pick out a few key pieces so I can alter them if they need it.”