Greek's Last Redemption

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CAITLIN CREWS. Greek's Last Redemption

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‘I imagine that is the point of this charade, is it not?’ Theo was stroking that wineglass the way he’d once stroked her body and Holly was certain it was deliberate. That he knew exactly what that slow sweep of his tapered, too-strong fingers against the glass did inside of her. ‘What do you want from me?’

‘I told you what I wanted.’

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Hating himself for his weakness didn’t do a damned thing to change it.

And she wasn’t the raw, unformed creature she’d been when he’d met her, all sun-kissed limbs and that unsophisticated beauty that he’d found so intoxicating. So mesmerizing. He studied the frozen image before him as if it might offer him a clue to her—to the truth of her he’d spent years telling himself she’d already shown him. Gone was the exuberant hair, the cowboy boots she’d once told him she loved more than most people, the open and carefree expression that had made her shine brighter than the Santorini sun.

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