had always been like this between them. That searing awareness, an almost primal reaction that neither of them had ever felt before. The connection had created a fierce maelstrom of emotion from which neither of them had escaped unscathed. It had been scary, she admitted, to realise that such passion existed. Even now it was there, simmering between them like the precursor to a deadly storm. It didn’t matter what had happened; she was learning to her cost that sexual attraction was no respecter of logic. ‘Wait here. I’ll get the ring.’
He glanced around the tiny room. ‘Are you going to offer me coffee?’
‘Why?’
His smile was barely discernible. ‘Because it would be hospitable?’
‘And hospitality is so important to you Greeks, isn’t it? You’ll leave a girl standing alone on her wedding day, but if you turn up uninvited in her home four years later you expect a cup of coffee and a slice of baklava.’
‘I’ve never seen you angry before.’
‘Stick around.’ Kelly filled the kettle violently, squirting water down her front. ‘On second thoughts, don’t stick around.’
‘Greek coffee, please.’
‘I hate Greek coffee. You can have tea.’
He eyed the pot she’d abandoned on the work surface that morning. ‘If you hate Greek coffee, why are you drinking it?’
Kelly stared at the offending pot, feeling her face redden. She could hardly tell him that she’d started drinking it because it had reminded her of the happy times they’d spent in Corfu, and that now she actually liked it. ‘I—I—’
‘It pleases me that you haven’t turned your back on everything Greek.’
Making a point, Kelly turned her back on him; maybe it was childish but she didn’t care. Pulling open a cupboard, she winced as a packet of rice fell on her head. Replacing it, she reached up and gingerly pulled out a jar of instant. ‘This is what I usually drink,’ she lied, removing the top with a twist of her wrist. She hadn’t opened the jar for at least six months and the granules were stuck together. Gritting her teeth, she chipped at them with a spoon and then tipped them into a mug.
Observing this performance from beneath lustrous dark lashes, Alekos removed his jacket and slung it over the back of a kitchen chair. ‘You always were a terrible liar.’
His arms were strong and muscled, and made her think about all the times she’d lain against his hard body, marvelling that this man was with her.
‘Whereas you were a master of deceit. You could make love to a woman as if she was the only thing in your world, and then walk away the day of our wedding without so much as a goodbye.’
‘Why did you sell the ring?’
Her mind was so firmly locked in the past that it took her a moment to shift to the present. They were having two different conversations, and she could feel the heat boiling under the surface of his bronzed skin. The same passion that had characterised their relationship now had a different focus. He simmered like a volcano waiting to erupt, his attention focused on her in a way that made her heart pound.
He was so physical, she thought weakly. The most physical man she’d ever met.
‘Because I no longer have any use for it. It’s just a reminder of a very bad decision. I’ll get you that ring and then you can leave, preferably smacking your head on the way out.’
Her hands shaking, Kelly made his coffee and pushed it towards him, feeling a pang of guilt as the liquid sloshed over the sides. It went against her nature to be so inhospitable to a guest, but he wasn’t a guest, was he? He was an intruder. And it was her nature that worried her. She knew herself too well to lower her guard. She didn’t dare lower her guard, even for a moment. She was too aware of him for that—too aware of her reaction to him. It appalled her to realise that she could still find him shockingly attractive after what he’d done to her. She should not be noticing those thick, dark eyelashes or the dark stubble on his hard jaw. And she definitely should not be noticing the way his expensive shirt emphasised the width and power of his shoulders. Instead she should remember how it had felt when all that leashed power had been focused on the destruction of their relationship.
Alekos paced the length of her kitchen, which for him took no more than three strides. Clearly it wasn’t enough to relieve his simmering tension because he turned impatiently, dragging his hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration that was pure Mediterranean male. Or maybe not, Kelly thought wearily: the gesture was pure Alekos.
‘That ring was a gift, and yet you were prepared to sell it to a stranger.’ The words erupted from his throat and she stared at him in genuine amazement.
‘Why would I keep it?’ The ring weighed heavily against her chest. ‘Do you think it holds some emotional meaning for me?’
‘I gave it to you.’
‘Payment for sex.’ She wasn’t going to let herself think it had been driven by anything else. ‘That was all you ever wanted from me, wasn’t it? All you think about is sex. Every minute of the day. That was all we ever shared.’ Her reference to their passionate physical relationship made his eyes darken, and Kelly licked her lips, wishing she hadn’t taken the conversation in that direction.
Mistake, she thought with a flash of panic. Big mistake.
‘Not every minute. Every six seconds, is the opinion of experts.’ Prowling restlessly around her kitchen, he looked brooding, virile and disturbingly male. ‘Men think about sex every six seconds. Which leaves us five to think about other things.’
‘Which for you is making money.’
‘Are you short of money? Is that why you sold it?’ Eyes stormy and menacing, he crossed the kitchen again, closing in on her.
She wasn’t afraid of him, she told herself, gripping the work surface with her hands; she definitely wasn’t. But there was something about his raw, elemental brand of masculinity that stirred her in a way that came close to terrifying. Being near him gave her a feeling she’d had with no other man and she didn’t know if it was good or bad.
Bad, she thought, sucking air into her lungs. Definitely bad.
He was right in front of her now, legs spread apart, unapologetically male, his aura of rough sexuality sending the temperature in the room soaring to dangerous levels.
Her body aching with a need she’d suppressed for far too long, Kelly shoved at his chest with the flat of her hand. ‘You’re invading my personal space, Alekos. Get away from me.’
‘I’ve spent the last five seconds thinking about coffee,’ he said silkily, ‘Which means I’ve now moved onto sex.’
She was stupid, stupid to have mentioned sex to this man.
She didn’t want to think about sex while she was in the same room as him. It was the one topic they should have avoided. The most dangerous.
But it was already too late.
The heat was spreading through her pelvis, slow and insidious, stealing through her like smoke from a fire. And the fire was raging, curling inside her, ready to burn up everything in its path.
Fighting that reaction, Kelly pushed past him, but he caught her arm and hauled her against him. Their bodies collided with an almost fatal inevitability, and in that single, highly charged instant he read her body. As sure as if he’d stripped her naked, he knew what she was feeling. He’d always known, even before she’d known herself.
That intimate knowledge hovered between them, as acute as it was unwelcome.
Without warning, his mouth came down on hers, hard and demanding. She was dragged back four years, sucked back into a time when passion had ruled thought, when the world had been a perfect place, and when the only thing that had mattered was being with this man.
For