Читать книгу Irresistible Greeks: Passion and Promises - Maisey Yates - Страница 16

CHAPTER EIGHT

IT WAS A long time since Lexi had been on the back of a motorbike. Not since her last visit here, just before she’d become pregnant. Before the pressure had become so intense and they’d started to treat her as if she had been made of porcelain. When she’d been made so aware of the significance of the child she carried...

Squashing the helmet over her ponytailed hair, she wriggled onto the pillion seat behind him.

‘Where do you want to go?’ he threw over his shoulder.

‘Surprise me.’

‘Okay.’ He kick-started the bike and it pulled away with a throaty roar as the electronic gates swung open.

They headed off down the road, with dust billowing up in clouds as they passed and Lexi felt the first heady rush of freedom as they headed down the hillside.

She noticed that he avoided the busy coastal road and wondered if he might take her to the famous Acropolis of Lindos, with its Knights’ stairway and view over St Paul’s bay, which was considered one of the most stunning in all Greece. But that would have been an unwelcome surprise because it was the place where he’d asked her to marry him, during an unforgettable day of high romance and promise. And an overwhelming sense of relief washed over her when he headed inland, through the tiny hillside village of Laerma and then out onto the Profila road.

Xenon’s new bike was powerful, but Lexi realised that he must have remembered her fear of high speed, because he quashed his dare-devil nature and took it at a relatively easy pace. Which meant that she was able to enjoy the breathtaking views of an island which the ancient Greeks had described as ‘more beautiful than the sun’.

The only trouble with motorbikes, she reflected, was that you had to get close. Like, really close. As a passenger you had to grip the waist of the person in front and cling to them like glue. She was being given a legitimate reason to touch her husband and she couldn’t decide if it was heaven or hell.

Her senses felt as if they were being assaulted from all sides. The beauty of the island and the sense of freedom which warmed her skin as she hung onto Xenon was heady stuff. And she wasn’t naïve enough to deny that the throb of the powerful machine between her legs was making her think about things she definitely shouldn’t be thinking about.

They drove for about twenty miles before he brought the bike to a halt on the dusty road close to the monastery of Moni Thari and turned his head to look at her. ‘Do you want to stop and go inside?’

She’d been here before, too. In fact, Lexi realised that there were few places on the island she hadn’t visited, but today it seemed appropriate to go inside that spiritual place and to think of Sofia.

‘I’d like that.’

He parked close to the monastery and they went inside. The thickness of the ancient walls meant that the interior was cool and welcoming and the echoing silence seemed to seep into her skin and fill her with a strange sense of calm.

But as they paused to study the exquisite frescoes, Lexi felt as if she was being emotionally tugged in all directions. She was acutely aware of Xenon at her side, his motorcycle helmet tucked beneath his arm. With his dark hair ruffled and windswept, he looked dressed-down and casual. But no matter what he wore or how he presented himself, he always drew the eye.

She could see a couple of beautiful Swedish women turning to stare at him and she saw the expressions on their faces. And it was always like that. Women always looked at him and wanted him. Yet there was nothing to suggest that the man studying the frescoes with such rapt curiosity was a powerful billionaire with global influence. He just looked so very Greek.

Afterwards, he drove them back to Laerma, only this time they stopped for a drink in the little village. Under the dappled shadows of the trees, they sat outside a small restaurant whose owner came out to greet Xenon, shaking his hand enthusiastically, as if he was an old friend.

It appeared he was, because Xenon introduced him to Lexi as Petros. He served them with thick coffee, water and a plate of salty olives and went inside, only to reappear a few minutes later holding a small plastic bag, which he handed to Xenon.

‘Efharisto,’ said Xenon, inclining his head slightly as he glanced inside.

‘Parakalo.’ Petros gave him a questioning look. ‘Ine simantiko?’

‘Ne.’

Lexi waited until they’d finished their drinks and were walking back towards the bike before she brought the subject up.

‘What was Petros saying to you?’

‘He was asking me whether something was important.’

She scurried to keep up with his long stride. ‘And you said it was?’

He smiled. ‘Very good, Lex. You now know the word for “yes”. Your Greek is improving.’

‘Very funny. Does it have something to do with that plastic bag?’

‘It does.’

‘What’s in it?’

He patted the back pocket of his jeans. ‘A film.’

‘Is that all you’re going to tell me?’

He flicked her a glance, tempted to remind her that she was no longer his wife and therefore she should not expect a wife’s privileges. But her silvery-green eyes looked so earnest that he found himself capitulating. ‘I’m surprised you hadn’t worked it out for yourself. Remember those photos taken of us outside the jeweller’s?’ He gave a hard smile of triumph. ‘Well, this is the rogue film.’

Lexi blinked. ‘You mean you got it back?’

‘Of course. I told you that I’d sorted it. You were obviously upset at the thought of the images getting out, so I spoke to Petros and he arranged for one of his sons to...retrieve it.’

She remembered the brief telephone conversation he’d had in the car. The sense of power which had shimmered from his dark and brooding frame as he had barked out his instructions. ‘And the photographer handed them over—just like that?’

‘Something like that.’ Xenon gave the ghost of a smile. ‘What is it they say? That I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.’

Lexi’s teeth bit into her bottom lip. She tried telling herself that his behaviour was high-handed and that he was a complete control freak. Yet she couldn’t deny her gratitude to him, because those photos could have come back to haunt her. When she went back to Devon, the last thing she wanted was to have to face renewed speculation about her relationship with Xenon. And if she was being brutally honest with herself, didn’t his power and authority sometimes thrill her?

Didn’t she sometimes fight him for the sake of fighting him? Because maybe another of her default mechanisms was that she simply wasn’t used to a man who wanted to protect her.

‘Thank you,’ she said carefully.

‘Parakalo,’ he answered with equal care, his eyes mocking her. ‘At least now you needn’t fear any new photographic evidence linking us.’

‘You must have read my mind!’

‘I must have done.’

But Xenon recognised that the light-hearted interlude was masking a growing tension between them. He could feel his body growing uncomfortably hard the longer he was alone with her. He could feel her arms snaking around him as she climbed onto the bike. In his driving mirror he could see the flash of her bare thighs. Briefly, he closed his eyes because her breasts were pushed against him as they moved away and he thought that this was pretty close to torture.

If it had been anyone other than Lexi, he would have stopped on the way back at one of the many secluded settings through which they passed. He would have parked the bike where it could not be seen from the road and then taken her in his arms and tumbled her down onto the ground. There would be no time to remove her dress and, besides, that pale, sensitive flesh of hers might be damaged by pine needles digging into her back. He swallowed. There would be no time for anything other than to slide her panties off and to lose himself inside her tight, liquid heat again.

The fantasy became so intense that the bike swerved a little as he imagined that first, sweet moment of entry.

‘For God’s sake, Xenon!’

The angry rush of her words in his ear brought him to his senses and he slowed right down. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘You’re driving like a maniac!’

‘I’m not used to anyone riding pillion.’

‘That’s no excuse. Just concentrate, will you?’

‘I’ll try.’ How could he concentrate when she was glued to him like that? He toyed with the idea of suggesting that she didn’t need to clamp her thighs around him quite so tightly, but realised that he was enjoying it too much to want her to stop.

The remainder of the journey was accomplished without incident and when they returned to the house it was to see Phyllida and several other women in the gardens, weaving fairy-lights into the trees. Long tables had been erected and were being decorated with thick garlands of flowers.

Xenon held out his hand to help Lexi off the bike. ‘My sister is taking this christening very seriously,’ he observed wryly. ‘Oh and, by the way, she’s bringing the baby over to meet you later. I should have mentioned it before.’

Lexi froze. It was stupid. Unpredictable. She should have been expecting something like this and yet the word was like the shock of cold water colliding with warm skin. She tried to smile but maybe her attempt was unconvincing, because he caught hold of her as she turned away.

‘Lex? What is it?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ She shook off his hand and began to walk towards their villa but she could hear his footsteps following her and she couldn’t do a damned thing to stop him. She went inside and heard the door slam shut behind him.

‘For God’s sake, Lex—just talk to me!’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘It’s something,’ he said fiercely. ‘How am I supposed to help when you won’t tell me what’s wrong?’

She stared at him for a moment, gathering her breath and wishing that her heart wasn’t beating so fiercely. ‘You can’t “help” me,’ she said fiercely. ‘Nobody can.’

‘Is it because I mentioned the baby?’

‘What do you think?’ she questioned as all the feelings she’d bottled up for so long came spilling out in a dark and unstoppable tide. ‘Don’t you ever think what he might be like now? Our little boy? He’d be two years old, Xenon. Imagine that. Running around with dark hair and blue eyes just like his daddy. Stumbling over a little plastic ball in the courtyard—’

‘Stop it!’ he said, in a strangled kind of voice.

‘But you asked me,’ she said. ‘And I’m telling you. I’m telling you what it’s like. It hardly happens at all these days, but it was there all the time at the beginning. The pain and the loss. The rewriting of a future into something you don’t recognise. Do you want to know what it was like, Xenon—I mean, do you really?’

He thought that he’d never seen her like this before. He’d never seen her look quite so helpless. Because this was Lexi. Lexi, who had always been so strong. Like him, she’d had to be. Maybe even stronger than him because all the odds had been stacked up against her, right from the start. He nodded, but behind his lips his teeth were clenched. ‘Tell me,’ he ground out.

The words came stumbling over themselves. ‘Every pram that passed me in the street was like an arrow to the heart. You remember all those cute little baby outfits I bought?’ She sucked in a ragged breath. ‘Well, they just seemed to taunt me with what we could never have. Taking them down to the charity shop was so...heartbreaking.’

‘You could have kept them,’ he said. ‘We could have tried again for another baby.’

She flinched and shook her head. ‘And how was that going to happen—when you wouldn’t come near me afterwards? You couldn’t even bear to touch me, because I’d failed. I’d failed to provide a son and heir for the continuation of the Kanellis dynasty!’

He groped for the right response, but he who was so fluent could find no words in his vocabulary suitable for what he wanted to say. ‘I couldn’t—’

‘You couldn’t bear to touch me,’ she repeated. ‘And that’s the truth!’

‘Because I didn’t know how to comfort you,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know what to say. I’m still having difficulty saying it now.’

His obvious remorse stabbed at her heart. It made her want to comfort him, but Lexi knew that she couldn’t afford to crumble. For both their sakes she had to face facts.

‘Then let me say it for you. The first time I miscarried, I was only a few weeks gone and I hadn’t had much of a chance to get used to it. But the second time I was nineteen weeks pregnant. In some countries, that’s only a week away from what is termed as a stillbirth, Xenon, and that is something which people take seriously. But nobody seemed to take this seriously. It was the hardest and biggest thing I’ve ever had to go through and yet I felt as if everyone wanted to forget about my baby. To act like nothing had happened.’

He felt as if someone had driven a stake deep inside his heart. His hands were trembling as he stared at her. ‘Oh, God, Lex.’

She shook her head, trying to blot out the look on his face because somehow his bleak compassion was only making it a million times worse. ‘Everyone tells you that you’ll get over it. That you can go out and “have another one”. As if it’s a coat that you left on the train which you can replace by going shopping.’

The silence which followed was broken only by the sound of her breathing.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you felt like this?’ he demanded. ‘Why the hell didn’t you talk to me about it at the time?’

‘And when was I supposed to do that?’ she said. ‘You threw yourself into your work as if it was the only thing which mattered and moved into one of the other bedrooms. It was achingly obvious that your disappointment was so great, you could hardly bear to look at me.’

He saw for the first time how she must have interpreted his behaviour. That his inability to deal with his own feelings had helped create the vast chasm which had grown between them.

‘I was disappointed,’ he said heavily. ‘I cannot deny that. I guess that was my way of coping—the only way I knew. I was aware that I needed to be strong for you—but how could I do that if you could see that inside my heart was breaking, too?’

Her lips buckled as she stared at him, because that was the saddest thing he’d ever said. And never had she felt the pain of their parting so profoundly—nor been swamped by such a yearning wish that it could all have been different. She felt a sob rise up in her throat like a wave whipped up during a high storm.

‘Oh, Xenon,’ she said, her voice breaking.

She saw his jaw clench. Saw him shake his head before he pulled her into his arms and started to kiss her in the most raw and savage way imaginable. His mouth came down to crush against hers and she felt the heat of his hunger. Opening her lips beneath that first fierce onslaught, she clung to him and kissed him back. He was cupping her face like a man possessed, as if he couldn’t get enough of her, and somehow her glasses had slipped off. She heard them clatter onto the floor. But Lexi didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything because now he was backing her into the bedroom, still kissing her and she could scarcely breathe as he tore his mouth away from hers, and pushed her down onto the bed.

She guessed he was giving her time to change her mind. Why else would he stand there, slowly unbuckling his belt, his eyes not leaving hers? He peeled off his white T-shirt and briefly closed his eyes before easing his zip down. She heard him kicking off his shoes and the rustle as his jeans and boxers followed.

Suddenly he was completely naked and he came towards the bed and straddled her. ‘Lex,’ he said.

She could feel the hardness of his thighs as he leaned over and brushed his mouth over hers. She could see how aroused he was but he seemed hell-bent on demonstrating his self-control as he began to unbutton her dress. She squirmed as each button popped free and the cool air hit her skin. She saw the darkening of his eyes as he caught his first sight of her bra and knickers and she couldn’t hold back any longer. Reaching out, she caught his erection in her hand, gasping in a shocked breath as her fingers closed round him. It had been so long since she’d touched him. So long since she’d seen him naked like this.

‘Turn over,’ he said roughly. ‘And let me get this damned dress off.’

Had she thought that he’d been demonstrating self-control? Because suddenly it seemed to have deserted him as he peeled the dress from her body with shaking hands and threw it onto the ground. Her bra and panties followed, until she was as naked as he was.

And then she remembered.

How the hell could she have forgotten?

‘I’m not on the pill,’ she said.

His face darkened. ‘And why would you be, when we have not been sleeping together?’ he demanded arrogantly.

‘Because we haven’t been living together! We’re separated!’

‘But you are still my wife, Lex. You are still my wife!’

With a muttered curse he walked over to the closet and opened one of the drawers until he had found what he was looking for.

She watched as he tore open the foil, and as all their tumultuous history crowded into her mind Lexi thought maybe she should call a halt to this madness. But any remaining reason was soon silenced by desire. Her throat dried as she watched him stroking on the condom and it was much too late for a change of heart, because he was walking back towards the bed and the look on his face was making her melt with longing.

He returned to his previous position on the bed, with one thigh on either side of her. He bent his head and grazed his mouth over her nipples, teasing each tip into an exquisitely sensitised bud. Her hands flew to his head, her nails digging into his scalp as she lifted her hips towards his in wordless plea.

He slid his fingers down between her thighs, murmuring something indistinct when he felt just how wet she was. But Lexi saw the convulsive way he swallowed, as if he had a lump the size of a golf ball stuck in his throat. And that one small chink of vulnerability made her wrap her arms tightly around his neck.

‘Xenon,’ she breathed.

‘Lex,’ he gasped. ‘Oh, Lex.’

She moaned against his neck as he reached down to brush the tip of his erection against her waiting heat.

And never had anything seemed so symbolic as that first deep thrust, though he stilled when she cried out his name in a broken kind of way.

‘I am hurting you?’ he demanded.

‘No,’ she whispered. ‘It’s beautiful. Just beautiful.’

Her heartfelt words stirred him more than he would have anticipated, but then it had been a long time since he’d heard such tenderness in her voice. It wrapped itself around his heart like a velvet fist as he made love to her as if it were the very first time. It felt like sweet and exquisite torture as he tried not to come too quickly—when he wanted to come as soon as he’d entered her. He tried to think of other things. But he couldn’t.

Suddenly he was at the mercy of feelings so powerful that he almost lost control—he, who had never lost control in his life. Suddenly his head was bent and he was kissing her as if that kiss were the only thing sustaining him, as if it were as necessary to him as the very air which he breathed.

Her soft, pale thighs were tight around his back and he was lifting her up towards him, so that she was pinned almost effortlessly against his body while he thrust deep inside her.

He saw her head tip back just before that first low cry came from her lips. A sound once so familiar yet now so strange that he could have wept.

But then his own orgasm came to his rescue. It exploded like a truckload of dark fireworks going off in slow motion, before wrapping him in oblivion. And the last thing he could remember saying was her name.