He thrust again, deeper. Like he wanted to lock himself into her forever.
It was fantastic. Sweet and primal and delicious.
And not enough.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped.
“Never.” He kept moving, his hips meeting hers with more force.
Sensations danced with giddy promise through her. She couldn’t speak, could only brace for another pulse as he returned again, his muscled tension a gathered force over and around her. Like a storm building.
She panted, greeting each thrust with an arching welcome of her hips. Thought receded and she embraced pure womanhood, primitive and earthy and natural as they mated. His scent was perfume, his groans behind his gritted teeth music. She smiled at her power over him and herself, reveling in the dance. Cries built in her throat as the silver threads of crisis gathered. Her hand went to his buttock, nails digging in as she tried to push him deeper, needing just a little more. She was so close.
Sweat adhered them and they struggled in ecstatic perfection, almost there, almost there...
Orgasm ripped through her and her ragged cry was pure liberation. Absolute completion as her body shuddered and clasped at his.
He let out a fierce shout of his own. In her trembling sheathe, his thick shaft pulsed, filling her with volcanic heat. She closed her arms and legs around him and willed this union to last forever.
CHAPTER FOUR
Present day...
AS HE SETTLED onto the tarmac Theo eyed the waiting limo. Jaya was smart enough to wait for the blades to slow before leaving the car, but he was anxious to see her. He told himself it was the babies he was worried about, and whether he’d have the help he needed in caring for them. It had nothing to do with the gnawing ache that had stayed with him during the eighteen months since he’d made love to her for hours before she’d hurriedly dressed so she wouldn’t miss her flight.
His gut knotted. She’d seen him with his defenses blown apart by the family strife he’d been trying all his life to wall off. He’d never been as unguarded with a woman as he’d been that night, usually focusing strictly on the physical pleasure of his encounters and saying as little as possible.
With her, he’d reveled in the cessation of emotional pain. When she’d left him to the silence of the suite, he’d blamed his plummet back into misery on the return of his dark memories from childhood, but there was more to it. He used to look forward to Bali; he hated it there now. He missed her.
And he couldn’t imagine how she’d react to this. He glanced back to the passenger cabin, able to see through the open door that his nephew had fallen asleep. His niece stared wide-eyed from a tear-stained face, startled into silence by the return to solid ground and the new noises of shutting down the chopper.
“I’ll be right back,” he told her, not sure if his words had any impact. He dropped outside to tether the machine. He’d fueled here in the past, so the hangar wasn’t unknown. He still didn’t like leaving his machine without prior arrangements. Choice, however, had been pitched into the Med when he’d flown out to the new Makricosta cruise ship only to see a gunner boat approaching from the horizon.
His brother-in-law, Gideon, had been all smiles on his arrival, bringing the babies to have a look at uncle’s helicopter. The second Theo had delivered the news he hadn’t wanted to share over the radio, Gideon’s hand had bit into his arm. “You have to get them off this ship.”
Not only did Theo have no idea what would happen to his sister and older brother, or their spouses, but what in hell would he do with two babies? Especially if this turned into a permanent situation?
Forget the worst-case scenarios, he reminded himself. Deal with the moment at hand. By his estimation, he had to perform triage for twelve to twenty-four hours before he’d receive new information that would allow him to make a fresh decision.
The limo driver came around to open the back door. Jaya emerged.
Until he saw her and his tension bled away, he hadn’t realized how fearful he’d been that she wouldn’t come.
The rotors had slowed to listless circles, but he was still struck by a sensation of wind gusting him off his feet. She was wearing her hair shorter, just long enough to touch her shoulders and it had a wave in it he’d never seen before. He liked it better than the tight, sleek bun. She looked younger and more carefree.
Sexy.
Not to say she wasn’t looking professional and confident at the same time. Her suit was tailored and chic, the scarf at her throat familiar. A deliberately distancing touch, he wondered, since it was not Makricosta colors?
Are you going to tie me up with it?
Do you want me to?
She’d run her fingers through his hair and he’d almost died. Hell, he’d been so needy it was demoralizing.
She smoothed her hands down her jacket, the navy and ice-yellow smart and flattering on her slender figure. Her big, round sunglasses stayed firmly in place as she waited by the open door of the car, not approaching.
He motioned her to come into the interior of the helicopter. After a brief hesitation, she walked forward.
“Mr. Makricosta—”
He paused with one foot on the step and looked back at her, his ghostly reflection in her lenses a picture of one shielded face confronting another.
“Theo,” he corrected, tempted to stand here until she said it, which was inane. If he’d had one plan when—if he ever saw her again, it was that he’d pretend they’d never slept together. Unfortunately, he kept hearing her whispery gasps of his name, lightly accented, in his dreams and wanted to know if he remembered it right.
“Would you please tell me what is going on?” A hitch of panic entered her tone as he let her question launch him up the steps and into the helicopter. She followed, protesting, “I can’t go anywhere. I have commitments. Work and....”
She didn’t finish, making him wonder what other commitments, but he didn’t press her. “You got my text. You know I need a room. Somewhere no one will expect me to hole up. When I said this was an emergency—”
He indicated the two babies. He’d had the white leather seats outfitted with child harnesses so he could transport his siblings and their children, but the babies looked ridiculously tiny in the first-class armchairs.
“You have kids?” she screeched, standing taller in the low-ceilinged inner lounge of the Eurocopter.
Androu jerked awake and began to wail. Evie broke down into renewed tears.
“Nice going,” he shot at Jaya.
She stared at Androu, seeming to go yellow beneath her natural mocha tone. “How old is he?” she hissed.
“They’re not mine,” he ground out, resisting a weird guilt attack even though he’d taken pains—and it had been painful—to ignore her messages and reinforce to her that she didn’t have any claim on him. “Help me get them into the
