sucked in air, eyes half closing, trying to ignore the faint shudder of pleasure.
“I knew you were freezing,” he said, his mouth near her ear, his warm breath stirring her senses.
She wanted to tell him he didn’t need to worry, that she wasn’t cold, just sensitive, her body still humming with emotion and sensation from their night of lovemaking.
The speedboat hit a wave and lifted. Nikos’s arm tightened around her, holding her steady.
Just then the baby kicked. Nikos’s head dipped. “I felt that,” he said.
Georgia’s heart turned over. A lump filled her throat. She put her hand over his, trying to control the panic rolling through her.
How was this going to work?
How was she going to do this?
How was she going to just get on a plane and leave Nikos and the baby?
* * *
Back on Kamari, Nikos disappeared into his room to shower and change and work, and Georgia did the same, except after her hot shower she couldn’t seem to settle down enough to focus on her books.
She sat on the couch and stared off into space, her attention drawn now and then to the window, where the rain drummed against the glass.
She had to study. The exam was important. Her future was important. Her goals hadn’t changed. Her priorities were still the same. Weren’t they?
But as the rain pounded on the roof and the wind howled outside, tugging at the old wood shutters, she found herself unable to see herself back in Atlanta.
She couldn’t imagine returning to school as if none of this had ever happened.
Uneasy with the future, unable to answer any of the questions eating away at her, Georgia forced herself to read. She would study. She had to study. Right now preparing for the test was the only thing she could control.
* * *
That evening they met for drinks in the library since the rain hadn’t let up. Nikos had laid a fire and the room was toasty warm.
He’d seated Georgia in one of the oversize wing chairs flanking the fire, and he took the other. The steady drumming of the rain was almost like music. Nikos couldn’t remember when he last felt so comfortable.
He was content.
It had been a good trip to Amorgós. It had been time well spent.
Georgia was studying the fire, and he used the opportunity to study her.
She was so beautiful. So uniquely Georgia Nielsen. Fierce and frustrating, provocative and strong, and ultimately breathtakingly wonderful.
He remembered tracing her face in bed, lightly running his fingertip over her stunning face, following the elegant arc of her winged brows, and then down her straight fine nose, over the generous softness of her full lips.
“You are so incredibly pretty.”
He didn’t even realize he’d said the words aloud until she turned and looked at him, those lovely, tempting lips curving up in a smile.
“I have a feeling blue-eyed blondes are your type,” she said, her voice warm with amusement.
He frowned. “Why did you say that?”
“You were very specific in your quest for a donor. Height, weight, hair color, eye color, ethnic makeup.”
“I also wanted healthy, educated, intelligent—”
“Blonde.” But her lips still curved. “But I’m not shocked. Men have types. Your type just happens to be slender blondes from Scandinavia.”
“No, my type just happens to be you. The world is full of blondes, but there is only one you.”
They ended up eating dinner in the library and then it was just a short walk to his room.
Georgia felt Nikos’s impatience as he shut the door behind him, locking it.
“I’ve never been in here,” she said, looking around. His room was simple with a large elegant bed, low handsome nightstands and a stunning glass chandelier overhead. “It looks Venetian,” she said.
“It is. I have a weakness for Venetian design.”
“Maybe you have some Venetian in your blood.”
He reached for her, drawing her to him. “I know I have you in my blood.” He lifted her face to his, kissing her lightly, his lips brushing over hers, teasing, making her sigh and arch into him.
“Kiss me,” she urged, sliding a hand into the thick, glossy hair at his nape and giving it a little tug. “Make me feel good.”
That was all it took for the simmering heat to ignite.
Nikos deepened the kiss, his lips parting hers even as his hand slid down her back, to the dip in her spine. He pressed her there, urging her closer. She loved the feel of his hand in the small of her back and the way his skin warmed hers from the inside out. She could feel his palm and the press of each finger, awakening nerves, making her spark and tingle.
His tongue teased hers. His hand slipped to her hip and then to the curve of her butt, holding her securely to him, letting her feel the thickness of his erection.
She rubbed herself against him, sighing as his shaft brushed her where she was sensitive. His fingers followed, cupping her there, between her thighs, and then stroking with expert fingers, sending a bolt of white-hot sensation right through her.
“Are you wet?” he murmured at her ear.
“Yes.”
“How wet?”
“You could take me now, here, and I’d come like that.”
“You are too easy.” His teeth nipped at her neck; he stroked and pinched her breast. “We should make this a challenge. Not let you come—”
“No, not fair.”
“Force you to wait, hold back.”
“That will just torture me.”
“But it will make the orgasm even better.”
“I don’t know that I’d survive it.”
He laughed softly, his hands slipping beneath her blouse, circling her waist before sliding up her rib cage to cup her breasts. “I promise you’ll survive. I would never let anything happen to you or hurt you.”
“You have happened to me,” she said, suddenly breathless as he peeled the lace cups from her breasts to rub his palms over her taut nipples. The pleasure was intense. He made her feel wild...desperate.
Before Nikos, she didn’t think she’d ever really been touched before.
