Bought: The Greek's Baby(20)

He led her across an elaborate covered bridge that crossed the Grand Canal. It was momentarily empty of tourists, and as the cold, wet wind howled around them, he finally turned to face her.

His eyes were dark and hot.

A little thrill of jumbled fear and desire went through her as he took her in his arms. She felt his fingers brush her skin, felt his muscular body hard against hers. The tension increased inside her, tightening into a coil low in her belly.

“This,” he said hoarsely, “is where I first kissed you.”

He leaned forward, stroking the back of her head. Brushing stray tendrils from her cheek, he cupped her face with his hands. Staring up at his handsome face, she was aware of tiny details. The dark scruff on his chin, though he had shaved just hours before. She’d thought his eyes were black, but now she saw they were a deep brown, with slivers of honey-gold.

“And,” he said in a low voice, lowering his head toward her, “this is where I’m going to kiss you now.”

She trembled all over, her heart pounding like a frantic hummingbird’s wing. She wanted him to kiss her—but at the same time something pushed her to flee!

But she couldn’t. This time, he held her fast. He wouldn’t let her back away.

It was as if she’d never been kissed before. His lips were gentle at first on her mouth. Then he spread her lips wide. He teased her with his tongue, licking her lips, entwining her tongue with his.#p#分页标题#e#

Desire and need swept through her like a fire. And she forgot about running away. She couldn’t resist. She didn’t want to.

His kiss hardened, deepened. Instead of tempting and luring, he suddenly demanded and took. His body pressed against hers so tightly she was no longer sure where he ended and she began.

The kiss was like nothing she’d felt before.

Just like a kiss should be.

She was dazed, lost in him. As he pulled away, a small whimper of protest escaped her. He looked down at her. There was a fire in his dark eyes.

“Now, glyka mou,” he whispered. “You belong to me.”

Above their heads, she could hear the caw of seagulls soaring high above, hear the ringing of the distant church bells. She could hear the lap of the water beneath them, the sound of a speedboat, hear the cries of vendors from the nearby Rialto market.

You belong to me. She closed her eyes as the echo of those words went through her. He’d spoken those words to her before. He’d kissed her here before.

You belong to me.

That hot, humid summer night, the moon had been full, washing both of them in veils of silver. She remembered the press of his hands against her bare shoulders, over her dress. She remembered desperately wanting him to kiss her. Remembered a sense of relief and triumph as he took her in a hard, savage kiss. Remembering sinking into his arms, so tight, so tight, at last…

Eve’s eyes flew open as she drew back from him with an intake of breath. “I remembered something!”

Talos’s eyes widened. Then his jaw tightened.

“What exactly did you remember?” he said, his voice low and strained, but in her excitement, she didn’t pause to wonder why. She gave him a joyful smile as tears rose to her eyes.

“Our first kiss. It was here on this bridge, just like you said! Oh, Talos, I’m getting my memory back. It’s coming back! Everything is going to be all right!”

She threw her arms around him, holding him tightly, overwhelmed by gratitude and relief. She pressed her face to his chest, squeezing her eyes shut to hold back the tears.

Her mind might not remember much about him, but her body instinctively did. She’d been so afraid, but now…

But now…

As she held him, her heart quickened, galloping faster and faster. The mood between them suddenly changed, electrified. A moment before, she’d just been joyful to have a memory to cling to, some sense of who she was and her past. But as he held her body close, as she breathed in the scent of his skin and pressed her cheek against his soft black shirt, she suddenly felt quite different.

Her cheeks grew hot as she looked up into his eyes.

“Eve, my beautiful Eve,” he whispered, touching her face. “Marry me. Be my wife.”

Yes, she opened her mouth to say.

But she forced herself to shake her head. “You deserve so much more,” she said softly. “You deserve a wife who can remember everything about loving you.”

His lips curled with a faint hint of mockery. “Don’t worry. I’ll get what I deserve.” He paused, then his eyes glowed down at her. “After you are my wife, I will devote myself night and day to helping you remember your past. I swear it.”