But Lukas wasn't waiting any longer. "Enough waiting." He pulled her close, then rolled her back onto the bed and pressed his body against hers. He couldn't hold back, couldn't pace himself. Not now.
Holly didn't resist. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and opened to his kiss, to his need. She met him kiss for kiss, move for move, fitting her body, tight and hot and slick, to his, welcoming him in.
It was heaven. The years, the days, the minutes of tortured anticipation were over and even though Lukas did his best to make it last, he couldn't fight his need any longer. He slid into her, a single hard thrust, and she met him, digging her fingernails into his back as she arched against him. They shattered together.
And, as Lukas had known it would be, it was good.
* * *
The morning after.
Holly woke thinking those very words, and trying to articulate what had happened so she could put it in a box she would call My Affair with Lukas and then, in slightly less than six weeks' time, could close firmly and stick on a shelf at the back of her mind.
But at the moment, she just lay there in the early-morning light and watched Lukas sleep.
Lukas.
She had gone to bed with Lukas Antonides. Had had sex with Lukas Antonides. She had spent so many years furious with him, or fighting with him or pretending he didn't exist that it fairly boggled her mind.
She lay there, studying him, trying to think things through, then deliberately stopped herself. There was nothing to think about. She had no expectations. For six weeks she was going to live in the moment. She wouldn't let herself want anything else-wouldn't even let herself consider anything else.
Just live, she told herself. Be in the moment. The moment, after all, was the only thing you ever really had.
And this was a moment she hadn't expected to ever have-a time to contemplate Lukas unmoving except for the soft draw and exhalation of his breath. That was novel in itself. But so was seeing him looking young and unguarded.
Young, well, she had seen that before. But she didn't think she had ever seen Lukas unguarded. The edgy watchfulness or quicksilver enthusiasm she normally associated with his expressions were entirely absent. There was a gentleness to his mouth now. His lips looked softer. And heaven help her, Holly knew now exactly how soft that was.
And how persuasive.
She wanted to curl up next to him and go back to sleep. But she felt oddly energized, as well. And if she were going to really be his gallery manager, she had unpacking to do and material to read from the artists that Charlotte had given her last night.
Besides, she didn't know what it would be like when Lukas woke up. It could be awkward. Holly had no experience of "mornings after"-except with Matt. She didn't know the protocol of brief affairs.
She slid out of bed and let herself take one last look at him. She had six weeks with this man-as long as he didn't tire of her sooner. But she wouldn't think about that, either. Live for the moment, she told herself again.
She would. For six weeks she would.
And then she would walk away unscathed.
* * *
When he awoke, Lukas was alone.
It was nearly nine. He hadn't slept till nine in years. But he'd slept like the dead after making love to Holly. He lay back and folded his arms under his head and grinned, energized, replete-and hungry all over again. He went downstairs and banged on the door to the gallery manager's apartment.
Holly opened it, color touching her cheeks as she looked up at him. "Hey." Her voice was soft, a little hesitant.
"Hey, yourself." And he hauled her into his arms and kissed her. She tasted like sunshine and apples and something singularly Holly. God, it was good. "Have you had breakfast?"
"Just this." She waved a half-eaten apple at him. "I'm still looking for my granola."
"We can find it later. I know a great brunch place." He grabbed her hand. "Come on."
"I should work." She gestured at the artists' info spread out on the bar.
But Lukas shook his head. "I'm your boss. I say we have brunch."
He took her to a little place not far from the gallery. It was unpretentious and undiscovered by any but the locals. But there were enough locals that they had to wait for a table.
Since he'd been back in the city, Lukas had found himself edgy, aware of too many people going too many places, always in a rush. Over all the years he'd been gone, he had grown used to space, to horizons, to the only noises being the ones he or those he was with made themselves. The cacophony that was New York had irritated him in a way he hadn't expected. And he hadn't been able to blot it out until now.
Being with Holly made the rest of the world recede. He wasn't busy thinking ahead, wondering where he needed to be next or what he needed to do.
He knew instinctively that he was right where he was supposed to be, sitting across a tiny table from the one woman who could make him laugh and think and want to argue, all within the space of a minute.
He might-oh, once or twice-have thought it would be nice to be back in bed with her. But it would happen, he promised himself.
"What are you smiling about?" Holly asked.
She had been telling him about Althea's upcoming wedding, and Lukas supposed he should be sympathetic. But it sounded like another of several weddings too many.
"Just thinking about taking you to bed," Lukas replied.
The color rose in her cheeks. She rolled her eyes. "Well, stop!"
"I like thinking about it. I like doing it. I thought you did, too." He raised a brow at her.
She focused on cutting her French toast. "Yes," she said.
Lukas grinned. "Good. Right, then. Althea's wedding. When is it?"
"End of July. Right before I leave." She told him the date.
"Same day as the reception," he said. "For the grant winners. It's going to be a big deal at the Plaza. The mayor and all that." He grimaced.
"Well, you probably won't have to wear pastel," Holly told him philosophically.
Lukas blanched. "Pastel?"
Holly smiled. "Never mind."
"Want a bite of my omelet?" He held out his fork to her.
She nibbled off it, then licked her lips. "Very tasty."
Lukas groaned. "Now can we talk about going back to bed?"
"No. We need to go back to the gallery so you can get me up to speed on this new job I've agreed to do."
So after one last cup of coffee, they headed back to the gallery where Lukas spent the rest of the afternoon on the gallery floor and then in the manager's office showing Holly the ropes, and periodically suggesting they go back upstairs as he had plenty of things he could show her there.
Holly just smiled and shook her head. She took her new job seriously, it seemed, peppering him with questions, half of which he didn't know the answers to. But he gave her the basics, explained the books, and gave her information about the opening coming up, and realized he should not have been so confident as to leave it all in Jenn's hands.
"She put some of it in place from Sydney." He knew that much. He said so as they walked back to her condo late that afternoon. They'd spent hours that could have been more interestingly occupied getting up to speed on work. "You can call her. You should call her. And I'll help as much as I can." He felt guilty handing the mess off to her. It had been a spur-of-the-moment suggestion, and he'd been amazed she had agreed. "Sera can help, too."
"It'll be a challenge." Holly unlocked her door and opened it. "But I'll do my best."
"Of course you will. And it'll be fine." He started to follow her in, but she turned to face him instead.
"So let me get going on it."
"What?"
"Go away. I have work to do."
"It's Sunday!" he protested.
"Which means I have one day to get my head around everything. I repeat, go away."
"But-"
"And don't pull out the 'I'm your boss' card," Holly said unrepentantly. "It's what you wanted-a trade-off, remember? I work for you, I get the apartment until I leave. We agreed," she reminded him. "And I mean what I say. I do what I say."
Holly kept her promises. She always had. It was why she'd been so angry with him the night of her prom: because she was engaged, she had made a promise to Matt and felt she had broken it with him. He raked a hand through his hair. "Fine. Go for it. If you have questions, follow the noise. I'm going to go find a wall to knock down."
* * *
She spent the rest of Sunday afternoon going over the artists' material, getting a feel for what they did, and then went back downstairs to see how it was displayed. She carried a notebook and made copious notes. And all the while she did so, she was aware of the sounds of destruction coming from upstairs. Lukas at work.