his hands moved to lift her hair, then slide down her back and pull her into closer contact. The kiss deepened, and Sara felt like she was floating. Desire flared. She actively kissed him back, her tongue dancing with his, her arms holding him as tightly as he held her. Only the lack of breath caused her to pull back eventually, gasping.
He continued to kiss her—first her cheek, then along her jaw, then a long slow slide down her throat to the rapid pulse point at the base. Then back up the other side.
She stood still as if afraid the slightest movement would end the magic. When he covered her lips again she responded. It was glorious. She could fall for this man. If he kissed her once a day, she’d probably be content to stay forever in Greece.
The thought filtered in, then struck with clarity.
She pulled back slightly, feeling dazed and confused. And guilty. She had no business becoming involved with Nikos Konstantinos. He was practically engaged to another woman. And she was trying to use him to gain access to her grandmother. Nothing was working in her favor. She suspected he would be a dangerous enemy. She dared not provoke him or lead him on. He would feel betrayed once he knew the truth. She could not aggravate the situation by sending false messages.
He opened his eyes and looked at her.
“I need to go to my cabin,” she said quietly, disentangling herself from his embrace.
He started to say something but Sara held up her hand. “No, don’t say a thing. This was not just a kiss. I can’t do this.”
She fled from the salon. Once she reached her small cabin, she shut the door softly and leaned against it. Blowing out a puff of air, she tried to get her roiling senses under control. She could feel the blood pounding through her. She was still breathing faster than normal. Good grief, she was attracted to Nikos as she’d never been to anyone else. And falling for the man was a guaranteed heartache.
She pushed away and went to the small porthole to gaze out at the rainy night. It was too dark to see much; only the dock lights cast faint illumination on the ship. The resort glowed in the wet evening. Had everyone else aboard gone to bed? She checked her watch. It was after ten. Early yet.
You’re stalling, Sara, she admonished herself. She could not get sidetracked by an attraction to Nikos. Granted he was gorgeous and successful. He had been more than kind in showing her around the island, teaching her to dive. But she knew he had no intention of becoming involved with her. Was this just a fling before settling down? The thought made her sick—and did not jibe with what she knew of Nikos. He was too honorable. So … maybe the lovely Gina was out of the running. That still didn’t give her a chance.
“Darn it,” she said aloud. The first man she’d met she really felt an attraction to, and he was off-limits. She knew he would end up disliking her once he knew she’d used him. Was there any way to keep a relationship?
Friendship—she didn’t want that, she wanted more.
She lay back on her bunk and relived the kiss. Magical, no other word. Did he know he could melt her insides with a sexy look? Did he care? He probably had women falling all over themselves to impress him.
To fulfill the promise made to her mother, she had to focus on her goal—give the last letter to her grandmother.
But she wished she could dally a bit with Nikos Konstantinos. It would make her Greek trip the ultimate fantasy.
The next morning Sara rose early. She’d slept fitfully during the night, soothed by the sound of the rain, waking as each dream cast her into Nikos’s arms. She was glad for the dreary morning sky. Working would help.
She prepared an omelet again for breakfast, with an assortment of fresh fruits and a delicious coffee blend she hadn’t tried before. She nibbled as she worked.
With only a minimum crew and Nikos, the workload was easy. Would she need to prepare any other meals besides breakfast? That would depend on the weather. It took less than a half day to reach the island. Once there another chef would be in charge. Maybe she could offer her assistance.
“I’ll take up the captain’s plate. He says we’re leaving this morning,” Stefano said.
“It’s still raining,” Sara said with another quick glance out the window.
“But not windy, which is the bad part of a storm. Rain can’t hurt the boat.”
She nodded. “There, take it away. That’s for Nikos, that’s for the captain,” she said pointing out the two plates. “Do we eat in our rooms for breakfast, too?”
“We’ll stand around the counter for breakfast. We don’t have a lot of rainy days on the ship.”
After breakfast Sara stepped out on the aft deck, keeping beneath the small overhang to stay dry. The air was humid, the rain warm to the touch when she extended her hand. If they hadn’t been in the marina, could she have gone swimming? What a novelty—to swim in the rain. At home it was usually too cold in rainy weather to swim.
She stayed awhile enjoying the change in weather, then turned to return to the galley. Stefano was about through with the dishes. He glanced up.
“The captain asked if you’d like to come to the bridge to watch as the yacht left the marina. I’ve done it a few times. Gives a different perspective to things,” he said.
“I’d love to.” She’d relish a chance to see how the yacht was actually operated.
“Take a fresh pot of coffee. It’s cool up there and the captain commented he especially liked today’s blend,” he added.
Fifteen minutes later Sara entered the bridge, two coffee mugs and a coffeepot in hand. She stopped when she saw Nikos standing at the high chart table, reviewing the charts with the captain. Heat washed through her.
He looked up casually and nodded. “Good, you brought more coffee.”
The captain smiled. “Come in. We’ll be pushing off in a few minutes. I thought you’d like to watch. Without much of a crew to cook for, you will have more free time.”
“Thank you. I brewed a fresh pot,” she said, walking over and placing the two mugs on the flat surface near the charts. Pouring the coffee carefully, she refused to allow even one drop to spill on a chart. But it took all her concentration. Her instinct was to watch Nikos.
She handed one mug to Nikos and one to the captain.
“You didn’t bring a mug for yourself,” Nikos commented, taking a sip and watching her over the rim of the cup.
“I didn’t know you were here or I would have brought another.”
He offered her his.
Sara drew in a sharp breath, hesitated, then slowly reached out and took it. The coffee was hot and fragrant. She took a couple of swallows then returned the mug, feeling an intimacy at the gesture. Moving to the wide windows, she looked at the activity on the dock. Despite the rain, men were working, wearing bright yellow slickers.
“So the storm won’t affect our trip,” she said.
“Not unless the wind kicks up again,” Nikos replied. “And we’re hoping it won’t.”
“The
