must have felt the shift in her mood because he rolled her onto her back, stopping her exploration. “We don’t have to do this.”
He sounded somber, almost grim, and she ran her hands up and down his arms. “Oh, yes, we do.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to be with you. I want to know what it’s like being your woman.”
* * *
For a split second Nikos couldn’t breathe, the air trapped in his lungs, his chest seizing closed.
She wanted to know what it was like to be his woman.
His woman.
There was fire in his eyes. A hot, gritty sting that echoed the burn in his chest.
He didn’t think he’d ever have another woman. He didn’t think he deserved a woman of his own.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone,” he said gruffly. “Years.”
“Not since Elsa?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like being so celibate?”
“It is better than hurting anyone.”
Her hands were on his chest, stroking over the muscle that covered his heart. “You won’t hurt me.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you’re a good man. An honest man. Not perfect but definitely likable.”
He dropped his head, kissed her lips and then her jaw and then lower. She lifted her chin, giving him access to her neck and sighing with pleasure as he found sensitive nerves.
Her hands were caressing him as he kissed her, stroking his stomach, his hip, his thigh before brushing light fingertips over his throbbing erection.
He gritted his teeth, holding back a groan as she wrapped a hand around his shaft, discovering his weight and heat and length.
It was all he could do not to pump into her, to hold still while she explored him, cupping him, stroking, running her thumb over the head of his shaft, rubbing the drop of moisture over the broad tip.
“You are very impressive,” she whispered.
“Let’s see if I remember how to do this,” he said, catching her hand to lift her arms above her head even as he settled his hips between her thighs.
She gave a deep, throaty sigh as he slowly eased into her.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, holding still.
“No. You feel so, so good.”
The edge of his lips lifted. “That’s encouraging, but I think I can make you feel much, much better.”
And he did.
* * *
Georgia woke in the night, surprised for a moment to find an arm around her, holding her, and then she remembered where she was and what they’d done and how incredibly satisfying it’d been.
She needed to use the restroom, but she didn’t want to wake Nikos. She lay there for several minutes trying to persuade herself that she didn’t really have to go, but she did.
“What’s wrong? Do you want to go back to your room?”
She turned to look at Nikos. She could just make out his face in the dark but couldn’t read his expression. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I haven’t slept.”
“What time is it?”
“Probably two thirty or three.”
“Why can’t you sleep?”
“I have you in my bed.”
“And it’s a small bed.”
“It is a small bed, but that’s not it. I’ve just enjoyed lying here, holding you. You feel good.” He smoothed her long hair back from her face. “Why are you awake?”
“I think the little guy kicked me, reminded me I need to use the bathroom.”
“I felt him move tonight.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“What did you think?”
“It’s amazing. A miracle.” His voice dropped, deepening. “That you’re a miracle.”
Georgia sat up and reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on. She blinked at the brightness of the light, but she wanted it on to see Nikos’s face. “I’m glad you finally were able to feel him move.”
“It’s rather incredible, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” He caught her hand, carried it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and then her palm. “Life changing.”
THEY RETURNED TO KATAPOLA, the main harbor, for a late breakfast after checking out of the hotel.
Nikos had wanted to stay in Chora for the meal, but Georgia pleaded to return to Katapola so they could have their last meal on Amorgós be at one of those charming restaurants on the bay.
In town, Nikos let Georgia pick the restaurant, and she took the task seriously, studying the outside of each place before examining the posted menus before finally selecting a small outdoor café close to the boats.
It was clearly a place for locals—and by locals, it appeared the local men—but Nikos entered and took a table on the shaded patio, ignoring the curious glances from the patrons already seated at tables.
They knew who he was, she thought as he held her chair for her. Just as the woman in the bakery had seemed to recognize him yesterday. Just as the woman behind the counter hadn’t been friendly, these men weren’t welcoming, either.
“I know you studied the menu outside, but almost everything was for lunch. Greeks don’t have a big breakfast. For some it’s just a coffee and cigarette, not that I’d recommend that for you,” he said. “For others, it might be some yogurt with almonds and honey, or maybe a slice of cheese pie or spinach pie.”
“So what would you suggest?”
“What are you hungry for?”
“Do you think they have eggs?”
“I’m sure they could cook eggs for you. I will ask.” He leaned back in his chair, looking carelessly at ease.
But
