What the Greek's Wife Needs

by Dani Collins

  “No, keep looking at me,” he said in a jagged voice, forcing her to blink her heavy eyelids back open. “I like watching you lose focus.”

  She licked her lips, watching the heat gathering in his gaze as his caresses grew more flagrant, slipping down the front of her lace underwear and—

  “Oh!”

  “Eyes open, lovely,” he commanded in a hypnotic tone. His free hand stole around to fondle her breast again. “Good?”

  “You know it is,” she panted. His touch was moving easily in the slick moisture he’d called forth.

  “The only person you have to fit with is me. Understand? And we fit perfectly, Tanja. We always have. Yes?”

  “Yes,” she moaned, unable to resist rocking her hips to seek a firmer touch. Her eyelashes were fluttering as exquisite ripples of arousal rolled upward from his touch.

  “Not pretending now, are you?”

  “No,” she said on a shaken laugh.

  He released her, staying close enough behind her she felt the brush of his hand against her cheeks, the rough-soft wool of his trousers as he opened them. The hot weight of his naked erection rested against her cheek while he opened the condom. He applied it and she watched his gaze stay down, admiring her buttocks as he palmed her curves.

  “This is terrible,” she said, coming back to awareness of where they were. “We shouldn’t be doing this here.”

  “Do you want to wait?” His eyes met hers and his wicked fingertip swept beneath her thong, teasing the swollen bundle of nerves at the top of her sex.

  She shuddered in pleasure, her voice catching as she admitted, “No.” She couldn’t wait another second.

  “Good.” He moved the placket aside. “Eyes open,” he reminded her huskily, then guided himself, seeking and pressing.

  “Leon,” she sighed as he began to breach her. He rocked lightly in small thrusts that took him a little deeper with each one.

  “Battle conditions, lovely,” he said as he coaxed inexorably for her to take all of him. “Fast and quiet.” He held her gaze as he leaned forward to press his open mouth against her nape. His hand slipped in the front of her underwear again. “Can you do that?”

  “No. Yes. Leon,” she moaned softly.

  He played with her, making pleasure spike upward. Making her dance her hips back into his, urging him to move.

  He did, and the friction was as inciting as it was rough.

  She wanted to close her eyes so bad. This was too intimate, but she needed the visual connection as much as the physical. Needed to see him come undone even as her own vision blurred, eyes dampening as her arousal increased.

  She bit back her most lurid noises, but couldn’t help pushing her hips back into his, wanting the subdued slam that seemed to reverberate joyous sensations through her whole body. When they were like this, nothing else mattered. They were perfectly, utterly aligned.

  “Tell me when,” he said in a jagged voice.

  “Now. I’m ready. I’m... Now,” she gasped as her climax rose up to engulf her.

  The heel of his palm stayed firm against her mound as his other hand took hold of her shoulder. He thrust hard and fast a few more times before he held himself deep inside her while his whole body shuddered.

  He pulsed and throbbed within her, teeth clenched. His cheeks flushed dark, and his glittering gaze kept possession of her own.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “DON’T WE HAVE to go back?” Tanja asked when Leon drew her from the powder room and out his mother’s doors toward the elevator.

  “No.” Leon knew he sounded like a Neanderthal, but his heart was still unsteady and, despite his powerful orgasm, his throat tight. He couldn’t stop hearing Tanja’s distressed I can’t do this.

  She had hurried to tidy her makeup, but she was pale beneath her flush of culmination. Her gaze on him as they entered the elevator was apprehensive.

  He reassured her the only way he knew how, by dragging her close and kissing her until she melted. When he lifted his head, the wariness in her eyes was replaced with golden lights of yearning, the ones that urged him closer. Invited him to touch and hold her.

  That’s what he needed to ease this monster inside him. That quiet surrender of herself to him.

  When they entered his penthouse, Valerie poked her head from the kitchen in surprise.

  “Call my mother. Let her know Tanja is unwell,” he said.

  “Of course. May I get you anything?”

  “I’m fine,” Tanja murmured, sending him a doleful look for his lie.

  “You’ve been unwell,” he justified as he steered her down the hall. “And you weren’t enjoying it.”

  “What exactly are you referring to?”

  His mouth twitched and his tension eased. If she was making jokes, they were okay.

  He had heard himself in her compulsion to flee, though. He had done the same thing for years, absenting himself from Greece however he had to. It had hit him hard that she wanted to flee him in that same way—as if he was causing her the emotional angst he had endured through his childhood.

  They checked on a sleeping Illi and Tanja told the nanny she could leave for the evening. She brought the baby monitor into the master bedroom with them.

  “I feel bad for ducking out on your mother,” she said as they undressed. “Cowardly.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Leon—”

  “No, listen.” He yanked his shirt from his trousers. “You should have had this life all along.” He waved at the professionally decorated room with its satin drapes and silk area rug and bamboo sheets. “Get used to it because this is your life now, even after our divorce.”

  “But I don’t want—”

  “Tanja! I was pretending when we married. I pretended it didn’t matter that I wasn’t taking it seriously. That it was okay to leave you with nothing. Let me fix that much.”

  She was in bare feet, hair loose, hugging a silk kimono closed across her nudity.

  “Maybe I even pretended...” He paced away, embarrassed to admit he’d wanted to be like her. Warm and sincere and surrounded by open affection. “It was never about you not being good enough for me.”

  There was a long, pensive silence before she said quietly, “I still can’t help feeling I’m not—”

  He pivoted to face her and cut her off. “You went to a foreign country to teach women how to be as financially independent as you are. You fostered a baby and now you’re a mother. What makes you think you can’t walk into a cocktail party of blowhards and hold your own? Win them over?”

  “Fear,” she admitted glumly.

  “Well, stop it,” he chided. “You’re actually very brave and bright and likable. If anyone insults your hometown or tries to make you feel small again, say something about the yacht. That usually snaps people into their best behavior, in hopes of earning an invitation.”

  She snorted. “You do have a mean streak, don’t you?”

  “I come by it honestly.” It should have been a lighthearted rejoinder, but it was too true. His father had held out carrots like that, playing with people’s hopes, manipulating them with the promise of rewards that hadn’t arrived.

  When he looked at her again, her teasing smile had faded into a troubled frown.

  “My biggest problem is figuring out what’s real and what’s pretend. Sometimes this feels very...”

  He nodded, accepting that even as it caused a jolt of guilty conscience.

  “I led you on the first time. I wish you could understand how angry I am with myself for that.” The words came from the depth of his chest, scoring behind his breastbone like sandpaper and leaving a scrape in the back of his throat. “That’s why I’m trying to be as truthful as possible now. I don’t want to hurt you again.”

  “I know.” She nodded jerkily, her lips clamped to withstand so
me inner agony. “But you will anyway.”

  That broadsword went through him so cleanly he could only hiss as it eviscerated him.

  “I’m going to take off my makeup.” She moved into the bathroom while he stood there frozen in torment. Absorbing the knowledge that she could—and would—hurt him, too.

  * * *

  “I’ve asked Demitri to reschedule all of your appointments today,” Leon said over breakfast the next morning. “I heard what you said last night. This is a lot to adjust to. I’ll go into the office and the staff will be out. Take the day to get your bearings.”

  Great. All the time in the world to dwell and brood and fret over the way they’d come together in a clash. She could pick apart the contradiction of a man who was capable of showing incredible care and concern, who delivered indescribable pleasure, offered remorse over the way they’d parted and said he wanted to make things up to her, but withheld himself.

  Refused to open his heart.

  She’d been up in the early hours to settle Illi. When she’d come back to bed, he’d spooned her into him, but that cuddle had turned into lazy, wordless lovemaking. He’d risen a few hours later when Illi stirred, leaving Tanja fast asleep and unaware he was even gone.

  He could be so considerate and tender. It was no wonder she was beginning to tip into falling for him again, but even his offer to leave her at home alone felt like a withdrawal of sorts. A distance he was putting between them on purpose.

  “No?” he prompted at her silence.

  “No. I mean yes. Thank you.” She smiled as a thought surfaced. “I could call Shonda.”

  “That reminds me.” He rose and came back with a stack of electronic devices. They were programmed with emails and numbers to reach him, his PA, and all his key staff.

  She might have refused, but having a laptop would allow her to put out feelers for work. It felt a little defeatist to cold-bloodedly plan her life after her divorce, when they could be married for a year or more, but she accepted everything gracefully.

  Once everyone was gone, she spoke to her family, then sent an email to Kahina that included a selfie with Illi. She asked after Kahina’s family and let her friend know she and Illi were well and that Georgiou might be in touch as he worked on the legalities of Illi’s adoption. Tanja also left messages on Brahim’s stale social media accounts, urging him to get in touch when he could.

  After that, she wallowed in the quiet of the penthouse, enjoying coffee outside before she sorted through some of the outfits in the spare bedroom and moved a few casual pieces into the section of the master bedroom closet that Leon had set aside for her. She had just fed Illi and was considering her options for lunch, Illi on her hip, when the landline rang.

  “Hello?” she asked cautiously, belatedly realizing she should have said it in Greek.

  “Tanja, it’s Ophelia. I wondered if I might come up and meet the baby?”

  “Um.” Don’t be a coward. “Of course. Um. We would love that. When were you thinking?”

  “Would now be convenient?”

  Tanja looked from Illi’s soggy chin to her own comfortable but threadbare shorts and T-shirt. “Of course,” she said with false brightness.

  She had just enough time to wash her daughter’s face and slip into a simple yet pretty summer dress, then pull her hair into a ponytail before there was a brief knock.

  Tanja set Illi under her play set and hurried to let Ophelia in.

  Ophelia looked as intimidatingly put together as she had last night, this time in a linen pantsuit with an emerald green blouse. Her hair was pinned in a smooth chignon, her makeup flawless.

  “The housekeeper is out, I’m afraid, but I could make coffee and find some cookies?” Tanja offered as she led Ophelia into the lounge. “I should have called you myself this morning, to apologize for not staying last night. I, um, wasn’t feeling well.”

  Ophelia gave her a steady look that was even more piercing and unreadable than her son’s. “Leon has already explained that you weren’t feeling welcome.”

  “That’s not...quite true.” Tanja flexed her linked fingers. “Out of my depth is a better way of putting it. This is all very overwhelming.”

  Ophelia halted to stare at Illi on the blanket on the floor.

  “This is Illi.” What had Leon told his mother about her parentage?

  “She could be Leon’s, couldn’t she? With that coloring?” Ophelia’s expression softened almost imperceptibly as she shifted to perch on the edge of a cushion, her attention remaining on the baby, while Illi batted at the toys dangling from the play set propped over her.

  Tanja sank into the chair opposite, surprised and not sure how much she should reveal.

  “Please don’t be alarmed. Leon wouldn’t have told me if he didn’t trust me to keep the information to myself. We have our difficulties and I was shocked to learn he’d been married all this time, but he wouldn’t lie to me about having a child.”

  “I very much appreciate the lengths he’s been willing to go to help me keep her,” Tanja said tentatively.

  Ophelia studied her for a long moment, looking as though she wanted to say something. A small frown dented her expression.

  “I disappointed him by inviting a crowd last night,” she finally decided to say. “We have a relationship that is... I find it easier to have people around. A buffer.” Her brief smile was deeply pained, then gone. “It’s an old habit, but it wasn’t fair to you. I apologize.”

  “That’s not necessary, but thank you.” Tanja’s heart instinctively went out to her, reaching across the space that felt like a chasm because Ophelia was clearly clinging hard to her side, terrified to reach out.

  Illi was kicking and grabbing at the toys, burbling away, easier to watch than looking at each other, so they did that for a few minutes.

  Tanja snuck glances at Ophelia, though, and watched as her expression grew poignant. Her hand twitched and she leaned forward a little, almost as if she wanted to bend and reach out, catch at a flailing foot, but she seemed to think better of it and straightened again.

  I think she quit showing affection for me so he wouldn’t use me against her.

  Tanja’s heart clutched. “Would you like to hold her?”

  “Best not to get attached,” Ophelia said with a valiant smile. “Leon tells me this isn’t a permanent arrangement.” She met Tanja’s gaze, and that suggestion of words wanting to be spoken was there again. This time she was a little braver, her voice holding a hint of emotion. “I take heart from the fact he’s come this far. Until his call the other day, I was convinced he would never marry or have children. Even... Well, baby steps as they say.”

  “Wait until you see him with her,” Tanja said with emotion-laden humor. “He’s so sweet, you’ll die.”

  “Oh, he won’t let me see that,” Ophelia assured her with another of those smiles that painted over what Tanja was beginning to realize was profound pain. “He was torn last night, afraid to hover over you too closely in case I guessed how much you mean to him. The lecture this morning was very telling, though.” Her mouth twitched.

  “What did he say?” Tanja asked with a rise and fall of hope and dread. “Whatever it was, I’m sorry. Honestly, I was overreacting. Suffering a case of imposter syndrome.”

  “Nonsense.” Ophelia held up a hand. “You are not an imposter, and his anger isn’t anything I don’t deserve. I’m extremely sensitive to any sort of disapproval or criticism from him, though.” She tucked her hands in her lap. “My first instinct is to protect myself proactively, thus the crowd. It always goes wrong, of course, but he does the same with me. The fact he kept his marriage from me for five years tells me how much you meant to him.”

  So many words of protest and correction jammed into Tanja’s throat that she couldn’t make any of them come out in a sensible way. They simply sat there with their sharp edges, s
uffocating her while Ophelia flicked a speck of lint from her sleeve.

  “I had hoped after his father passed that Leon and I would develop a new understanding between us, but—” Her sigh was the epitome of despair. “Leon was faced with incredibly difficult challenges. I didn’t help. I pushed him so hard to fight for what was rightfully his. If I’d known he had a wife to go back to... Well, I don’t know what I would have done,” she admitted heavily. “I can see now he was angry over what he was forced to give up in order to stay here. I won’t say he blamed me,” Ophelia continued in a tone of reflection. “But he must have seen me as part of the reason he was forced to stay here instead of returning to you. That’s why we haven’t been able to mend things.”

  “I’m so s—”

  “Please.” Ophelia forestalled her with a smooth show of her palm. “You are not the source of my troubles with my son. That lies entirely with me.”

  “I think you’re being very hard on yourself,” Tanja said tentatively. “Leon has only said a few things about his early years, but I get the sense there was quite a bit of tension. That your husband was a difficult person and bears much of the responsibility.”

  “You’re very generous. I can see why Leon is so attracted to you. His father was a terrible bully, but I can’t say I was at my best in the way I chose to fight him. I sank to his level far too often. When it comes to Leon, I’m reaping what was sown.”

  “Well, you can sow new things,” Tanja said earnestly. “I hope you see me and Illi as a fresh field. You and I don’t have to let any of those old weeds grow between us. We can define our relationship however it suits us.”

  Ophelia didn’t say anything for a long minute, but a faint sheen of tears seemed to glimmer in her eyes. Her mouth might have trembled. It was hard to tell. She was very good at hiding her emotions.

  “It would mean a lot to me if you and I were to become friends. It’s difficult to feel close to my son.”

  You love him, Tanja wanted to say, but she had the feeling it was the sort of incantation that wasn’t allowed to be spoken aloud in Leon’s world for fear of breaking a spell. It explained so much about him.