The Greek's Innocent Virgin. Lucy Monroe
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He folded his tall frame into the chair at the end of the table. “Mama, there is something I would appreciate you doing for Rachel.”
The Greek woman looked at her son with obvious love and approval. “What is it, my son?”
“She wants to donate her mother’s possessions to auction for charity, but she doesn’t want anything of sentimental value to the family to be sold.” He looked to Rachel as if expecting her to confirm or deny his words.
So, she nodded. “That’s right.”
Phillippa’s dark brown eyes expressed her surprise. “You wish me to go through your mother’s things with you?”
“Just the things in her room. Anything that might be considered hers in the other rooms of the house can simply stay with the villa.” She’d thought about it and that seemed the easiest way to handle the situation.
“But surely you’ll want the things she treasured.”
“No.”
“I have a few items of my mother’s. They give me comfort when I think of her.”
“I will find more satisfaction knowing her possessions brought something good to the lives of children in need.”
The compassionate understanding in Phillippa’s eyes was almost enough to make Rachel lose the rigid hold she had on her emotions. “I understand. I would be pleased to help you.”
“Thank you,” Rachel replied with deep sincerity.
The sweet fragrance of honeysuckle mingled with the warm, salt laden air off the sea, wrapping around Rachel while her toes sank into pebbly sand. Unable to sleep, she’d come down to the beach, thinking a walk would help settle her mind.
But it wasn’t her mind that needed settling.
It was her body.
Being around Sebastian always did this to her, made her aware of her femininity in a way she managed to ignore the rest of the time. After what had happened to her when she was sixteen, that wasn’t hard, but somehow the powerful tycoon undermined defenses that were rock-solid around other men.
And he didn’t even try.
Sebastian Kouros had no interest in her, had never once intimated that he was aware of her as anything other than his beloved great-uncle’s stepdaughter.
But that didn’t stop her hormones from raging, or her heart from tying itself in knots over him.
“What are you doing out here, pethi mou?”
Spinning around at the sound of his voice, her heart climbed right up into her throat. She staggered backward away from that all too close masculine body, her feet hitting wet sand and then water. “Sebastian!”
His hands shot out and grabbed her shoulders, stopping her from an ignominious landing in the shallow water. “You did not know I was here?”
She shook her head dumbly.
He pulled her forward until her feet were once again on dry land, but he did not move, leaving her way too close to him. “I made no attempt to disguise my approach.”
“I w-was thinking.” She stumbled over her words, her brain processing the new sensory input from his arrival.
His fingers were warm and solid through the silk-thin cotton of her sleeves and his scent, spicy and overwhelmingly male, dominated her senses. The full moon supplied sufficient light for his formfitting, black T-shirt to reveal every defined abdomen and well-developed chest muscle. While his light colored sports shorts drew attention to legs that would have looked more appropriate on a long-distance runner than a corporate executive. His feet were bare like hers and their toes were scant inches apart.
For some reason that seemed very intimate.
CHAPTER TWO
“YOU must have been thinking about something very absorbing if your thoughts were so deep they prevented you from hearing my footsteps.”
How ironic that thoughts of the man had prevented her from preparing herself mentally to meet up with him. “Yes.”
“Why are you not sleeping?”
Did he realize he was still holding on to her? She tried shrugging to see if the movement would remind him to release her and step back. “I couldn’t.”
He ignored her silent bid for freedom, probably hadn’t even noticed it. “Your mother died less than a week ago. It is understandable, this lack of rest.”
“I suppose,” she replied, content to let him draw his own conclusions.
She had enough to deal with not moving those remaining inches and snuggling into the warmth and safety his tall body offered. She wanted him physically and that in itself was shocking enough, but she wanted something else from him, something she’d learned long ago was not on offer in her life. Love. Commitment. Security.
“I understand. My uncle’s death has caused much grief in my family.”
That was probably as close as Sebastian would come to admitting his own weakness and the fact he was no doubt awake because of his own undiluted grief. Any feelings of sadness she had at the death of her mother were weakened by relief that the emotional pain of living in the shadow of her misdeeds was over.
She licked her lips, trying to maintain her concentration when his nearness was wreaking havoc with her ability to focus on what was being said. “Matthias was a good man.”
Sebastian’s hands dropped away from her shoulders finally, but he remained too close to ease her awkwardness. “He was, but I should not have dismissed your own grieving.”
“What do you mean?” She had not expressed any real grief, so how could he have dismissed it?
She wasn’t even sure if she was capable of mourning her mother’s death.
“I was not kind to you this afternoon and I am sorry.” The words came out stilted, not at all like his usual smooth conversation.
He probably apologized about as often as she dated, which was never.
“It’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it.”
“I hurt you and I should not have added to your pain in that way.”
Oh, man, when he got going on the remorse thing, he took it seriously. And it made her feel guilty because while he’d hurt her, it had not been in addition to the pain of loss, but to the pain of a lifetime lived as Andrea’s daughter.
“Thank you for your concern, but honestly, I’m used to comments like that.”
The sound he made said her words had not soothed him.
She sighed, unable to stifle the urge to reach out, to touch in an age-old gesture of comfort. Her fingers settled gently against his hair roughened arm