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When Christakos Meets His Match(28)



                Despite the obvious cheapness of her clothes, once again he was struck by her natural beauty, and he wondered how on earth he’d ever dismissed her. The jeans he’d put on felt restrictive, and he gritted his jaw against his newly rampant libido. He had been mourning its dysfunction only twenty-four hours ago. The irony was not lost on him.

                He put down the wine bottle and walked over. He saw her cheeks flush as he got nearer. His blood leapt in response. It was as if they were linked. Attuned to exactly the same rhythms. Making love with this woman... Alexio knew instinctively that one night would not be enough, but he pushed that revelation down rather than deal with the skin-prickling awareness of something dangerous that accompanied it.

                She looked nervous and gestured to her clothes, clearly self-conscious, making Alexio feel as if he wanted to reassure her in a way that no other woman of his acquaintance ever needed.

                ‘I didn’t come prepared for a fancy dinner. You’ll have to excuse me.’

                Alexio took her hand. His voice was gruff. ‘I want you to be comfortable. I didn’t make much effort either.’

                He saw her eyes drop to take in his plain white shirt and faded jeans. Bare feet. She looked back up again and her eyes had grown wider, their pupils dilated. Her cheeks were more flushed. She wanted him.

                She obviously heard movement in the kitchen and said, ‘Was I longer than twenty minutes?’

                He smiled. ‘About forty...but I allowed for that. It seems a safe bet where a woman is concerned.’

                He immediately saw the aquamarine fire in her eyes, the way her small chin tipped up, and expected a tart reply. But he wouldn’t let her hand go when she tried to pull away. He had to keep touching her. It was like a compulsive need.

                ‘You’ve known a lot of women, then, to make this empiricial study of their time-keeping on a general level?’

                Alexio’s smile faded. He could see past the bluster to where there was a hint of genuine insecurity. He touched her jaw and saw her mouth firm, as if warding off his effect on her.

                ‘I’m no monk, glikia mou. But neither am I half as promiscuous as the press would like to paint me. When I take lovers I’m always up front. I don’t offer anything more than mutual satisfaction. I’m not into relationships right now.’

                Sidonie looked at him with that incredibly direct gaze that seemed to sear straight through him.

                ‘Okay...’ she said, and smiled, showing that gap between her teeth.

                Alexio wanted to throw her over his shoulder so that he could take her upstairs right now and to hell with dinner.

                She grinned then in earnest, and bent down to do something. Alexio saw her shoes being kicked off on the floor and her height dropped by an inch.

                ‘Well, seeing as you’re not making an effort to wear shoes,’ she clarified, ‘I don’t see why I have to go through the pain.’

                Before he did something to inadvertently demonstrate how off-centre she made him feel, Alexio tugged her towards the dining area, where a table had been laid for two, complete with lit candles. It was by the window, with a view of London lit up by night beyond the river and the bridge.

                The chef’s assistant was setting out their starters and Alexio said, ‘Thanks, Jonathan. I think we can take it from here. Say thank you to Michel for me.’

                The young man exited swiftly.