get ready.’
‘Are you hungry?’
The normality of the question made her pause. ‘A little,’ she admitted curiously.
‘I’d better feed you, then. I don’t want you fading away.’
There wasn’t the remotest chance, Charlotte thought, reading the message behind his eyes.
‘Feel free to look around when you’re ready,’ he suggested. ‘I’ll make an omelette. Marianna left some chocolate cake for me—if you’re good, I’ll share it with you.’
‘What do I have to do to be good?’ Charlotte pressed lightly with a provocative smile as she struggled to restore some of her confidence.
‘I’ll think of something,’ Iannis promised, catching hold of her around the waist for another kiss.
He made everything sound so innocent, so normal—if only it could be, Charlotte thought wistfully, softening as Iannis slipped his hand beneath her robe.
‘Theos, you have skin like silk,’ he murmured as Charlotte pressed against him. ‘Be quick,’ he murmured, pulling away. ‘Then come and join me.’
‘Quick’ wasn’t the word for it, Charlotte mused as she rifled through the last cupboard as quietly as she could. Her lightning search of the bathroom had confirmed all her suspicions. The cottage definitely wasn’t his main home—there was no clutter. But she had been surprised to discover an aftershave so exclusive she guessed it was hand-blended. And then there was the black leather Penhaligon toiletry bag, the wet shave kit from Tiffany’s, and a shower with enough power to stop an elephant in its tracks.
Simple fisherman? I think not, Charlotte mused tensely, relieved that she had already made plans to construct her article around an idealised version of the simple fisherman she had first imagined Iannis to be. If he ran a small business, it wasn’t here on Iskos.
A sound outside the door prompted her to replace everything as quickly as she could. Then, checking her appearance briefly in the mirror, Charlotte hurried to join Iannis.
* * *
‘Delicious,’ Charlotte exclaimed, finishing up the last scrap of her omelette. ‘You must be every woman’s dream.’
Iannis cast her an ironic glance. ‘Don’t get used to it,’ he warned as he collected up her plate. ‘I cook when I’m hungry, and that’s it.’
‘It will do for me,’ Charlotte murmured, helping him to load everything in the sink.
‘Will it?’ he said sardonically. ‘So, what do you think of my simple cottage?’
‘I like it a lot,’ Charlotte admitted cautiously. ‘I can see that you have a very good life here,’ she said, going along with the pretence.
‘I do, and I won’t allow anything—or anyone, for that matter—to spoil that for me.’
He dipped his head to look at her as he spoke, so that their eyes were on a level, and Charlotte had to make a conscious effort not to flinch as she looked at him.
‘I can understand that,’ she said, pinning a smile on her face. ‘You’ve got everything you need here.’ For a holiday home, she mused thoughtfully. But the way he talked of his life on Iskos made it sound so much more than that.
‘Some people certainly seem to think so,’ Iannis said, cutting into her thoughts. ‘Now, come here.’
Charlotte knew she should run—run as fast as she could away from this man she knew nothing about—run out of the cottage and out of his life for good. But invisible cords seemed to be drawing her towards him instead.
‘Iannis, I—’
‘Yes,’ he murmured softly, ‘I know. Come here, Charlotte. Come to me.’
He held out his arms to her and she took the single step necessary. Then, tilting her chin so that she had nowhere to look but into his eyes, Iannis brushed his lips very gently against her mouth.
That was all it took. Exhaling a ragged breath, Charlotte softened against him as he swung her into his arms. They didn’t make it as far as the bedroom this time. Laying her down on the padded banquette beneath the window, Iannis stripped off her clothes and lay down beside her as soon as he had rid himself of his own.
Rubbing his beard-roughened face against her fragrant skin, Iannis felt Charlotte quiver with desire as his hands moved around her to claim her breasts. They were both locked into a situation that was rapidly spiralling out of control, he admitted to himself grimly. The practical side was easy—he could handle that the usual way—but this…this was different, he mused, inhaling deeply, wanting to drown in Charlotte’s familiar and intoxicating scent. Even with everything she had tried to do to him, all he wanted was to give her pleasure.
It was madness, he realised, sifting her silky hair through his fingers, but it was a glorious obsession. She was beautiful and—he loved her. Iannis roughly cast the thought aside. Love was for fools. And he was no fool.
He turned his attention to safer matters…to the generous curve of her hip that only the very greatest artist would possess enough skill to lay down on canvas. He traced her shape with his hands, pausing to lavish attention on the swell of her buttocks, and took pleasure in hearing her whimpers of desire as he used his thumbs to part and then relax them again. It was a technique he already knew she loved—the promise of fulfilment held in suspension until she was consumed with desire. And the way he had positioned her meant she could look out across one of the most stunning views in all of Greece while he attended to her needs. He would pleasure all her senses together.
No sensation had ever been greater, Charlotte realised as she pressed herself invitingly into Iannis. No reasoned thoughts could intrude. She was still aroused from their lovemaking, and yet now it seemed he was able to lift her onto an even higher plane of awareness. Her lips were loosely parted and she was utterly relaxed. Iannis had left her with nothing to do but gaze languorously out at a view no money could buy while he worked his magic on her with lips and teeth and devastatingly sensitive fingers. She heard herself purr with delight as she angled herself ready for his possession.
When he entered her it was like a homecoming, and for a moment they were both forced to rest quite still, overcome by sensation, and by an emotional charge that was as unexpected to each of them as it was intensely pleasurable. But then he secured her hips in a firm grip and satisfied all her needs, plunging repeatedly until Charlotte lost count of how many times she climaxed, and only knew that she was lost in an erotic maelstrom from which she never wanted to escape.
He had chosen music for lovers, she thought, when he slowed his strokes to accord with the easy beat. It ought to be available on prescription—though she hardly qualified for help in that direction now. As she sighed with contentment Iannis changed position, moving on top of her.
‘That was a heavy sigh,’ he growled softly. ‘Not one of regret, I hope?’
Charlotte pushed the shadows away as she smiled at him, lifting her arms to link her hands behind his head. ‘I wish this moment could last for ever,’ she said honestly. And that reality might never intrude.
‘Iskos is a mystical, magical island,’ Iannis warned softly. ‘It
