The Wealthy Greek's Contract Wife(22)

       
           



       

No, this was purely about sexual desire. It was about answering,   exploring, satisfying the need that had been aching, growing inside her   from their first meeting. No one but the two of them need ever know  that  she had briefly stepped out of the role she had cast for herself  after  the death of her parents-a role that meant that she must always  be the  responsible eldest sister, monitoring her own behaviour in order  that  she could set their family standards and guide her younger  siblings.  Here, with Ilios, it was safe for her to experience being  what in her  real life she could never be-sensually eager, responsive to  her own  desires and those of her partner, without having to think  about anything  or anyone else.

What possible harm could there be in it? If it happened it would be a   one-off, that was all-an exciting, tantalising sensual adventure. If   Ilios should repeat his offer, was she going to be brave enough to do   what she knew she wanted to do? Or was she going to be a coward who   would spend the rest of her life regretting her hesitation?





Chapter Eleven



THEY'D travelled back to the Manos Corporation building in silence, and   in that same silence they had got out of the car and travelled in the   lift to where they were now-outside the door to the apartment, with   Ilios unlocking it.

‘What's this?' Lizzie asked curiously, almost forgetting the reason for   her earlier inability to speak as she bent down to pick up the small   blue bead lying on the floor just inside the door.

‘Maria's obviously been in, and equally obviously she must know the   wedding was today,' Ilios answered, taking the bead from her and putting   it back down on the floor. ‘It's meant to ward off the evil eye-a  Greek  tradition that involves those who have something to protect doing  so by  means of the gift of one of these. Maria obviously approves of  our  marriage, and by leaving this is protecting it and us from bad  luck.'

Lizzie nodded her head. She'd have liked to have changed out of her   white wool dress and coat into something less high-maintenance, but she   was concerned that any move towards the bedroom on her part might be   wrongly interpreted by Ilios.

‘Who designed the garden?' she asked him instead. ‘I haven't been out in it yet, but-'

‘I designed it. Or at least I copied certain elements of the gardens at Villa Manos and adapted them for here.'

Whilst they were talking they'd walked into the living room.

‘Will I be safe if I offer you a walk round the garden?' Ilios asked.

Did he really think she would pounce on him? Was he expecting her to   make all the running? She couldn't, Lizzie knew. Not without knowing   that he wanted her too.

Lizzie wondered what he was really thinking-and feeling. Had he meant   what he'd said in the restaurant, or had he simply been amusing himself   at her expense? Even worse, had he actually been thinking about taking   her to bed and then decided upon reflection not to bother? Maybe she  had  misunderstood what he'd said, or taken it too seriously, and now he  was  stepping back from that conversation because he hadn't meant it.   Lizzie's face burned at the thought.

‘If you don't mind my saying so, if you would like to see the garden you   may want to think about getting changed first, into something less … '

The sound of Ilios's voice focussed her attention on what he was saying,   and valiantly Lizzie tried to put her mixed-up feelings to one side  and  focus instead of reality.

‘Something less white?' she offered brightly. She refused to use the word bridal, with all that it implied.

Ilios nodded his head.

‘Look, I've got a couple of e-mails I need to send, so why don't you go   and get changed? Take as long as you wish. There's no rush.'


If Ilios had actually known how uncomfortable she'd been feeling, both   in her outfit and about saying she wanted to change out of it, and had   wanted to put her at her ease, he couldn't have done so more   effectively, Lizzie acknowledged several minutes later, as she stood   beneath the shower in the bathroom off the master bedroom. Not that she   imagined he could have known how she was feeling. In fact he had   probably simply wanted her out of the way. The more she thought about   it, the more she thought she had been a complete fool for thinking he   had been suggesting that he wanted her.

She showered quickly, using her own favourite shower gel from Jo Malone,   and noting as she did so that the container was almost empty. Jo  Malone  treats were something she wasn't going to be able to indulge in  any  more. No doubt the whole family would end up using something safe  and  suitable for the twins. Smiling to herself, Lizzie stepped out of  the  shower, drying herself speedily and then wrapping a towel  sarong-wise  round her body. Removing the cap she had put on her head to  keep her  hair dry, she opened the door to the dressing room and came  to an abrupt  halt almost in mid-step, her eyes widening as she saw  Ilios opening his  wardrobe. Like her, he had quite obviously taken a  shower-only his  towel sat low on his hips and finished midway down his  thigh.                       
       
           



       

Her ‘Oh!' was a soft, half-choked sound as betraying as the manner in   which she clutched her towel protectively to her body. ‘I thought you   said you were going to be busy sending e-mails,' was all she could think   of to say.

‘I changed my mind and decided to have a shower instead.' He wasn't   going to tell her that the ache she had induced within his body had made   it impossible for him to do anything other than give in to the need to   take a cold shower.

He must have used the guest room-which, of course, was why he was here right now, looking for his clothes.

‘I'll … I'll wait in the bathroom until … until you've finished.'

Was that squeaky, nervous voice really her own?

‘So that you aren't overwhelmed by your desire for me?'

Why had she ever said that to him about being concerned that she might   be the one overcome with lust? Both the joke and her sense of humour   were becoming stretched to breaking point.

‘I'll tell you what … ' Ilios's voice was muffled by the wardrobe door   that he had opened between them, and Lizzie had to strain to hear what   he was saying. Automatically she took a couple of steps towards him, so   that she could hear properly.

What would he tell her?

‘Instead of talking about your desire for me, why don't you come here and show me?'

The door swung closed. Ilios was standing far too close to her-or rather   she was standing far too close to him. But even as she decided to step   back his right hand curled into her towel and tugged-firmly.

What was she going to do? If she stayed where she was she would be in   danger of losing her towel, and if she moved it would have to be   forward, towards him, and that would mean …

‘Nothing to say?'

She was up close against him, and his hand wasn't gripping her towel.   Instead it was smoothing its way up her bare arm and over her shoulder,   stroking her neck, cupping her face. One hand, and then both.

‘Very well, then, why don't I do this instead?'

He finished his sentence in a whisper, practically forming the words   against her lips with his lips-lips that were smooth and warm and   expertly knowing as they moved slowly over hers, pausing, lifting to   allow her to gasp in a shaken breath. His fingers smoothed the skin of   her face, and then he was kissing her again, slowly and lingeringly,   each second of his touch its own intimate world of pleasure, given and   then removed. A tantalising, tormenting unbelievably erotic pleasure,   nothing more than light skimming kisses but at the same time so deeply   sensual that they transported her to a whole new world.

Each time he kissed her and then withdrew Lizzie moved closer, hungering for more. Her own hand lifted to his face.

‘I've wanted to do this from the first moment I saw you,' she admitted   breathlessly, touching his skin with her fingertips, absorbing its   texture, learning the shape of the muscles that lay beneath the warm   flesh, her eyes dark and hot with what she was feeling.

‘Only this? Nothing more?'

Ilios's voice was as soft and warm, as erotic to her senses as the dark   cross of fine silky hair that painted his body. His words, with their   tempting invitation, made her tremble beneath the intensity of her own   desire.