more than just … contentment. Warm and fuzzy is fine twenty or more years down the track. But now?’
‘Try adding some excitement.’
‘Did that, and all I got was the look. You know the one … like have I suddenly flipped?’
‘I’m almost afraid to ask.’
Lacey leaned in close to confide, and a few minutes later Alesha didn’t know whether to roll her eyes or laugh. ‘Subtle—not.’
Afterwards they wandered the various shops, boutiques and stalls, sharing company with an eclectic mix of people. Girls sporting boho chic, guys dressed from top to toe in black; a television personality with his wife and children; tourists. As well as the social set enjoying a late leisurely lunch in the restaurants overlooking the inner harbour.
Dusk was encroaching as Alesha headed towards Point Piper, and her pulse quickened to a faster beat as she garaged the car.
Loukas’ black Aston Martin was parked in its customary bay, and she entered the foyer, then headed for the staircase.
There was a need to shower and change before dinner, and she walked into the master suite, only to pause at the sight of Loukas in the process of shedding his clothes.
Fluid muscles moved and flexed beneath smooth olive skin … superb musculature honed to a peak of physical fitness.
Heat unfurled deep inside her with the memory of what they’d shared during the night. How his mouth had devoured her … the touch of his hands, the movement of his body within her own. Oh, dear God, the sweet ecstasy he created within as he played her with unhurried grace, urging her high until she shattered in his arms.
There was a part of her that wanted to cross the room, lean in close and lift her mouth to his and seek the wickedly sensual slide of his tongue as it explored, tantalized … and possessed.
At that moment he turned, and dark eyes speared her own as a smile curved his generously moulded mouth.
‘How was your afternoon with Lacey?’
‘Great.’ She consciously swallowed as he freed the zip fastening on his trousers and dispatched them. ‘We explored Darling Harbour.’
What was she doing standing here watching him undress like a fascinated voyeur?
An impertinent imp silently taunted, Because he’s well worth the look.
Alesha turned away, suddenly cross with herself, and she tugged off her boots, freed the belt and discarded her woollen jacket.
She heard the faint buzz of an electric shaver and relaxed a little. If she moved quickly, she’d be able to shed her jeans and tee and reach her own en suite before Loukas finished shaving.
Minutes later she activated the shower, shed bra and briefs, then she stepped into the large marble-tiled cubicle, caught up soap and began sliding the scented tablet over her body.
Her skin felt sensitive, alive, in a way it never had before, and each movement of the soap brought a vivid reminder of his touch. If she closed her eyes, she could almost believe he was there.
To have her every waking thought filled with his image after one night in his bed was crazy. Yet try as she might she couldn’t shake him from her mind.
A faint groan emerged from her throat minutes later as she closed the water dial and caught up a towel.
Don’t think … in the name of heaven don’t let your mind slip back and compare the past with the present.
Yet how could she not?
Sex with Loukas had been mind-blowing. Except it hadn’t just been sex, it had been intimacy, at a level she hadn’t previously experienced.
A shaft of sheer sensation spiralled through her body at the mere thought …
Oh, move right along, why don’t you? Focus on the prosaic. Get dressed, go join Loukas for dinner, indulge in pleasant conversation … and escape in due course with the need for an early night.
Rethink that excuse, or he might take it as an invitation to join her in bed. Time spent on her laptop, catching up with email, work … that should do it.
Act … you’re good at it, she admonished as she forked delicious morsels from her plate.
Did Loukas guess she was harbouring a conflicting mess of nerves? Possibly. He was an intelligent man, and way too astute for her peace of mind.
Why should she feel so acutely sensitive … on edge, and extremely conscious of him? Dammit, she could still feel him inside her, his penetration so deep and all-consuming her vaginal muscles quivered on mere reflection.
Oh, hell. Now she was really losing it.
Somehow she managed to get through dinner, and when she was done she excused herself on the pretext of work.
Loukas let her go, his gaze thoughtful as he watched her leave the room. She was like a cat treading hot bricks, at odds with herself, him.
He tamped down the inclination to go after her. Instead, he refilled his cup with coffee, then took it into his home office and participated in a conference call with the Andreou Athens office, issued orders, and faced the possibility he might need to personally deal with the problem.
It was late when Alesha closed the laptop down and headed towards the master suite, only to find it empty.
She completed her nightly routine, discarded clothes for sleep trousers and top, then she stood hesitantly unsure whether to occupy Loukas’ bed or her own.
There was a part of her that wanted the comfort of his arms, his body and the pleasure he could gift her.
‘One or the other,’ Loukas declared from the doorway, startling her. ‘But we share.’
She turned and offered him a level look. ‘What if I choose not to?’
‘We sleep together,’ he drawled. ‘With the emphasis on sleep.’ He pulled his shirt free, tended to the buttons and reached for the zip fastening on his trousers, shed them and crossed to his en suite.
Alesha slid into bed, her own, closed her eyes and pretended to sleep, only to unconsciously tense as she sensed the bedcovers shift and Loukas joined her in bed.
‘Sleep well, agape mou.’
His voice held quiet amusement, and she refrained from uttering a word in response.
Within minutes his breathing steadied, and she silently cursed his ability to fall asleep so easily.
At some stage she must have succumbed, for she woke at dawn feeling warm, secure … and aware she lay gathered in against a hard male body.
Had she moved in the night … or had he?
Did it matter?
The question was how she could extricate herself without waking him. A mission in itself, given his arm lay heavy across her waist.
It was a nice feeling.
Nice? Oh, please. The word didn’t even begin to cut it. It felt so good, so right, there was a part of her that wanted to remain where she was, curled in against him.
Safe, secure, here where she was meant to be.
Where she wanted to be.
To touch him, lightly, with her lips, the tips of her fingers … to watch him stir, become aware, awake. And see his mouth curve into that sensual smile he did so well, the soft gleam appear in those dark eyes … and have his mouth close over hers in the prerequisite that would lead to early-morning sex.
Whoa. What was happening here?
Being held in his arms was one thing … sex, a whole different ball game. One she didn’t feel sufficiently equipped to play. At