The Power of the Legendary Greek(22)

'I can't help it. I'll have nightmares tonight.'

'I know a remedy for that,' he whispered.

'Cocoa?'

He let out a smothered crack of laughter. 'I tasted that once in  England, but I doubt that we have any here. My remedy is even sweeter,  Isobel,' he added in a tone which sent her pulse racing. 'I must go down  and tell Spiro what hour I intend to leave.' He kissed her fleetingly  on the lips and brushed a hand over her hair.

Isobel lay frowning at the door he'd closed behind him. Had that been a  goodnight, sleep well kind of kiss? She slid carefully off the bed to  collect the beautifully laundered nightgown Eleni had left ready and  limped to the bathroom, impatient with herself. He probably thought his  doubts had made her angry. Maybe normally they would have. But tomorrow  he was going to risk his life to hunt down the man out for his blood.  She shivered, knowing she had no hope of any sleep tonight, for more  reasons than one. She should have been more blunt and simply asked Luke  to sleep with her. Best cure of all for nightmares-and probably a good  many other things. Surviving kidnap had put things into perspective,  teaching her that life was not only short, but could also be very sweet  if she let it.

Isobel went over to the veranda windows, tested them to see that they  were locked securely, then returned to the bed, picked up her book and  sat up against the pillows. If Luke wasn't coming back, insomnia would  be her fate. But she could at least read, and leave her bedside lamp on  as her candle in the dark. The story was by one of her favourite  authors, but the intricate mediaeval mystery, though gripping and  beautifully written, failed to hold her attention. Then her eyes flew up  in surprise as Luke came in and very deliberately locked the door  behind him.

'As I thought, we have no cocoa,' he said, his eyes holding hers as he  walked slowly to the bed. 'So we must try my remedy instead.'

Isobel licked the tip of her tongue over suddenly dry lips. 'You didn't say, exactly, what that was.'

Luke smiled as he sat on the edge of the bed. 'It is very simple, hriso  mou. I just hold you in my arms all night and keep you safe.'

Isobel's heart turned over. 'Sounds most effective,' she said shakily.

'It is. There is just one problem. Or possibly more than one.'

'Oh?'

'If I hold you in my arms I will not sleep.' His eyes blazed. 'But I  will gladly endure insomnia to guard you from nightmares, Isobel.'

Her eyes fell. 'I seem to be constantly in your debt. How will I ever repay you?'

'I can think of a way.' Luke smoothed a hand over her hair. 'Can you?'

'Yes,' she said, burning her boats. 'Is it the same way as yours?'

Luke growled as he pulled her into his arms. 'You are tormenting me,  Isobel mou,' he whispered, his lips a tantalising inch from hers. 'I  want you. Tell me you want me.'

Of course she wanted him. At this moment she wanted him more than  anything or anyone she'd ever wanted before. After all the trauma, she  deserved this. It would be her reward equally as much as Luke's. And if  things went wrong tomorrow …  She shivered and Luke's arms tightened, his  victorious smile hidden in her hair.

'Talk to me, hriso mou. You said your thanks were all you had to give. Have you changed your mind?'                       
       
           



       

'Yes,' she muttered into his chest. 'So stop talking and make love to me, Lukas Andreadis-before I change it back again.'

He let out a shout of laughter and leapt up to strip off his clothes. But as he moved naked to the bed she held up her hand.

'No. Just stand still for a moment, as you did by the pool.'

She let her eyes move slowly over the burnished bronze curls, and the  eyes that glowed like coals in his taut face. She lingered over the  broad shoulders, the torso that tapered into a lean waist and long  muscular legs, and the stirring masculinity between them. To Isobel's  delight, colour rose along his sculpted cheekbones.

'I refuse to just stand here while you look at me.'

'Why not?'

His eyes flared. 'Because my body is betraying me!'

'So I see,' said Isobel, suddenly reckless as she took her nightgown over her head and pulled the covers back for him.

Luke slid in beside her and with a groan of pleasure held her close, his  hands smoothing down her back to mould every curve and hollow of her  body to his. 'I have dreamed of this,' he said into the angle where her  neck met her shoulder.

Isobel sighed and wriggled closer, delighting in the tremor she felt run through him. 'I refused to let myself dream of it.'

'Because you did not want to make love with me?'

'No, because I did.'

He growled in triumph and kissed her fiercely. His lips were warm and  skilled and now they were naked together the first touch of them on hers  sent her so dizzy with delight she surged against him. And with her  breasts crushed against his chest she found his heart was pounding in  unison with hers as his kisses sent her blood rushing through her veins,  and her body turned into one entire erogenous zone.

He raised his head and smiled in triumphant possession. 'You are so  lovely, Isobel. It is impossible to believe, now, that I was angry with  you that first day on the beach.'

'You frightened the life out of me.'

He tensed. 'Are you frightened now?'

'No.' She moved closer. 'Make love to me, Luke. Make me glad to be alive!'

He obeyed with such fervour Isobel's pulse raced as the heat from his  kisses ran through her like a jolt of electricity. She pressed closer,  glorying in the feel of his skin against hers until he moved her away a  fraction so that his lips could move down her throat in a string of  soft, sweet kisses, and her breasts grew taut in anticipation as she  felt the heat of his breath on her skin. He made love to each breast in  turn with lips and tongue and gently grazing teeth, his caresses  flooding her with hot, liquid arousal as her body filled with an urgency  so new and overwhelming she shook with the force of it.

Luke stiffened. 'Do not tremble. I will stop if you wish.'

'I don't wish. Go on-please!' She gloried in his renewed caresses,  making a little relishing sound deep in her throat as his hands moved  lower to stroke the satiny curve below her waist. But she gasped as his  fingers aroused turbulence with the most intimate caress of all, his  mouth devouring hers with a kiss so possessive and overwhelming her  blood seemed to turn to steam. He looked deep into her eyes, asking a  question she answered with such an impatient little nod he smiled in  triumph and surged inside her, filling her to such capacity Isobel's  heart lurched with the shock of it. For a long, throbbing moment they  lay utterly still, then her inner muscles clenched around him in fierce  invitation and he took her with him on a surging, accelerating climb  towards some fiery, longed for peak he reached at last before her, then  held her tightly until her body arched against him, convulsed in  throbbing waves of release.

Luke stayed still for a long, silent interval while their hearts slowed,  pinning her to the bed with his weight. At last he rolled over onto his  back, drawing her close against him as he smoothed the damp curls away  from her forehead. 'Look at me, Isobel.'

Reluctantly, she opened heavy eyes to meet the possessive black gaze.

'Did I hurt you, hriso mou?' he asked softly.

'No.' Isobel heaved in a deep, unsteady breath. 'But you surprised me.'

'Surprised?' He frowned. 'Why?'                       
       
           



       

'After the episode with Gavin, I was sure I'd never want to make love  again, ever.' Isobel met his eyes squarely. 'But with you it was as if  we were climbing together, and I'd die if I didn't reach the summit.'

His eyes glittered in triumph. 'But you did reach it, glykia mou, ne?'

'Not only reached it, I soared off it in free fall!'

Luke threw back his head and laughed in unashamed male satisfaction. 'It is so good for a man to hear that.'

Isobel smiled wryly. 'You sounded very Greek just then.'

He nodded with sudden arrogance. 'Because that is what I am, and proud  of it. And you are an English rose, Isobel, and so beautiful and  intelligent I find it hard to believe no man has wanted to marry you.'

'One did a couple of years ago. But when he started talking about  mortgages and urging me to get a proper job it put me off marriage  permanently.'

Luke laughed scornfully. 'The fool wanted to make you into someone else.'

'Exactly,' said Isobel, delighted he understood. 'So we broke up.' She  sighed. 'But not without a fight on his part. He wanted Isobel the  woman, but not Isobel the artist.'

'I want them both,' said Luke, and flipped her over on her back to lean  over her, his handsome face intent with an expression that made her  pulse race. 'Forget all other men; you are mine now,' he whispered and  kissed her, and Isobel wreathed her arms round his neck and drew him  closer. She was his. For now. But now was all they had together. In a  few days she would be leaving Chyros to go back to the real world, where  there was no place in her life for someone like Lukas Andreadis. But  that life seemed very far away and unreal as he made love to her in the  hot reality of the present, taking infinite pleasure in the responses he  wrung from her. His lips moved over her face and throat, then continued  slowly down until she felt those crisp bronze curls against her skin as  he kissed her in a place unused to such attention. His lips and tongue  caressed her so skilfully they sent her climbing to a different peak of  pleasure she experienced alone. And in triumph Luke held her close as  she gasped in the throes of it.