“Charlie couldn’t always dress himself.”
He grinned, then sucked in a quick breath when she made quick work of the zipper and her fingers found him. He swallowed hard, then shrugged off his jeans and came to her on the bed, settled next to her, stroked his hands over her with an almost hesitant wonder.
And Daisy felt the same. “I love you,” she whispered, glorying in being able to say it, to acknowledge it, and to know that he wanted to hear the words.
“I know. But not as much as I love you,” he said, a tremor in his voice and another in the hands that stroked her sensitive skin.
“I’ll show you,” she insisted, and rolled onto her back, drawing him on top of her, wrapping herself around him.
“And I’ll show you,” Alex countered, teasing, tasting, touching. He was so exquisitely gentle, yet possessively so. His fingers found her, knew her, parted her. And then he slid in. “Daze!” His body tensed, froze. And then—at last—he began to move.
“Alex!” Her nails dug into his buttocks. Her head thrashed on the pillow. Her body tightened around him. He made her shiver, he made her quiver, he made her shatter. And he shattered right along with her, his face contorting, his body going rigid, then collapsing to bury his face against her neck.
She stroked his sweat-slick back, then turned her head and kissed his ear and along the whisker-roughened line of his jaw.
When at last he lifted his head it was to look down into her eyes with wonder. “Why did it take me so long to realize?” he murmured, sounding awestruck.
Daisy shook her head. She didn’t need to ask why anymore. She had the answer she needed. “I’m just glad you did.”
He rolled onto his back then and pulled her on top so that she rested her head on his chest and felt the gallop of his heart beneath her cheek. Softly, rhythmically, Alex stroked her hair.
Daisy didn’t know how long they lay like that. She might have slept a little. She thought he did. But when they roused and began to touch, to love again, he raised his head from the pillow and peered down his nose at her. “Is this the sort of match you try to make?” he asked, giving her his heart with his eyes.
Daisy returned his gift full measure. But then she shook her head no.
“It’s better,” she told him, rising up to meet his lips, to love him, to share the wonder once more.
*****
Renewing their vows?
Xenon Kanellis is not a man who fails, and certainly not a man who gets divorced. Now with the perfect opportunity to get his wife back where she belongs—on his arm and in his bed—his immaculate record will be restored.
Lexi Kanellis needs her estranged husband’s help…even if that means playing the good Greek wife for a few more weeks. The island sun is no match for the reignited heat between them, but no amount of passion can erase the memory of what tore them apart.…
‘I’m waiting, Lexi.’ The sound of his impatient voice came in her ear.
‘You know that I don’t want to do it,’ she said.
‘And I’m asking you to reconsider.’
‘Ochi. Can’t be done. You will do what I want you to do.’
‘You’re a ruthless man, Xenon Kanellis.’
‘Insult me all you like,’ he said. ‘But my heart will not be swayed by your pleas.’
‘You have no heart!’
‘Then waste no more of my time with your futile protestations. Give me your answer, Lex—is it yes or no?’
There was a pause while she tried to fight it, but she realised she had no choice. ‘Yes,’ she breathed reluctantly.
‘Good.’
SHARON KENDRICK started story-telling at the age of eleven, and has never really stopped. She likes to write fast-paced, feel-good romances with heroes who are so sexy they’ll make your toes curl!
Born in west London, she now lives in the beautiful city of Winchester—where she can see the cathedral from her window (but only if she stands on tiptoe). She has two children, Celia and Patrick, and her passions include music, books, cooking and eating—and drifting off into wonderful daydreams while she works out new plots!
WHY HADN’T SHE been paying attention?
Why hadn’t she registered the horribly familiar sound of footsteps on gravel?
If Lexi hadn’t been thinking about silver earrings—the type which caught the light when you moved—she might have ignored the sharp ring on the bell. As it was, she was completely distracted when she pulled open the door to see the towering form of her estranged husband standing there, sunlight glinting off his ebony hair.
His stance was fixed and immovable. He seemed to absorb all the light which surrounded him, like a piece of blotting paper drinking up a dark spill of ink.
Lexi’s heart contracted with pain. The last time she’d seen him he’d been knotting his tie with fingers which had been trembling with rage. A blue tie, she recalled—which had matched his eyes perfectly.
His gaze licked over her now like a cobalt flame. She got the feeling he was undressing her with that gaze. Was he? Didn’t he once tell her that whenever a man looked at a woman he was imagining what it might be like to make love to her? And she had listened to him of course, because Xenon had been the expert when it came to sex and she had not. Her heart began to thump heavily in her chest.
Why was he here?
She wished she’d had time to brush her hair. She wasn’t trying to impress him, but even so—a woman still had her pride. She thought he looked shocked. As shocked as she felt—though she suspected his momentary loss of composure was for very different reasons. She knew she looked nothing like the woman he had married. The gilded creature who had gazed up at him from behind a misty veil of tulle was nothing but a distant memory. These days she wore the same clothes as other women. She did the same things as other women. No more couture and fast cars. Her hand strayed up to push an errant strand of hair behind her ear. No more expensive trips to the hair salon either.
While he, of course, looked exactly the same.
Six feet two and eyes of blue. Xenon Kanellis. An olive-skinned powerhouse of a man and a legend in his native Greece. A man with a face of dark and rugged beauty. And a man she had never wanted to see again.
‘X-Xenon,’ she said, her voice stumbling over a word she hadn’t said in a long time.
‘Thank heavens for that.’ He gave the sardonic smile she knew so well. ‘For a moment back then I thought you’d forgotten me.’
Lexi almost laughed because the suggestion was so ludicrous. Forget him? It would be easier to forget her own name. True, he wasn’t on her mind 24/7 the way he used to be when they’d first split. Before she had decided to take herself in hand. She’d known she would never recover if she continued to obsess about him. The stern talking-to she’d given herself had carried her through the worst. It got her through those bleak, dark days when she had