know where he’d gone, or why.
Sleepily, she struggled to sort through her feelings. So much had happened in one day. Her father’s announcement that she needed to take Elexis’s place. Her shock and initial resistance until she realized that marrying Damen would be good for her. It’d give her opportunities she’d never have trapped in the Dukas mansion on Nob Hill.
And once she said yes to her father’s idea, the wedding gown alteration and the rigorous wedding prep—the salt scrub, the waxing, the hair mask, the application of lotions and polish—before the wedding itself.
Damen’s fury as he discovered the truth about his bride.
The reception they didn’t attend.
The early departure in the speedboat.
The arrival on the yacht.
And then Damen, finally claiming her.
Her body was sore, but not unbearably so. She also felt warm and languid in a way she never felt before. Their coming together was nothing like she had imagined it would be. It wasn’t sex but something bigger, something more, something...significant.
And she couldn’t explain how or why, but she sensed that Damen felt it, too.
DAMEN LEFT THE mahogany-paneled bedroom to tackle the details needing attention, details like sending staff to retrieve Kassiani’s belongings from his villa, and changing the travel plan because he couldn’t stomach the idea of taking Kassiani on the same honeymoon that had been planned for Elexis. Elexis needed people and activity and so they were to spend a few days anchored off the island of Mykonos so Elexis could have her fill of the cafés and restaurants, nightclubs and high-end shops, before continuing to Santorini for more of the same.
Damen didn’t know his new wife well yet, but he could safely say that Kassiani would prefer not to shop and cared little about hip nightclubs and trendy bars.
While staff went to collect Kassiani’s luggage, he discussed the change in itinerary with his captain, and then retreated to the far end of the top deck so he could be alone, needing the night air to clear his head and cool his body.
It was rather shocking to discover that his body still hummed with desire and hunger. Usually after sex he was done. Sated. After a long night of sexual play, he wanted nothing more to do with his mistress for a length of time, but right now he still craved his shy, innocent bride who seemed to be anything but shy in bed.
He shouldn’t want Kassiani this much. He shouldn’t already want to return to her. And yet right now all he wanted was to be with her again, to push her back onto the bed and feel her softness beneath him. He wanted her heat and shape, and he was impatient to discover all the mysteries she had yet to share.
Frustrated, Damen left the deck, retreating to a guest bedroom on a different level from the master, stripping off his clothes to take a cold shower before stretching out on the bed.
He refused to think about her anymore tonight. This wasn’t normal. He didn’t like feeling his control slip. She was just a small part of his world, and he needed to remember that.
* * *
Sometime before dawn they pulled anchor and set off. It was still dark out when Kassiani woke to the hum of the engine, and opening her eyes, she glanced over to the space next to her and discovered it was empty. She reached out and touched the place Damen had been earlier and his spot was cool.
Had Damen never come back?
She looked past his side of the bed to the tall windows with their view of the deck and sea. The sky was still purple, and stars glittered overhead, and yet they were no longer anchored in the bay, but powering through the Greek islands.
Kassiani reached for her phone to check the time but she hadn’t brought a charger and it had died during the night.
For several minutes she lay there, thinking of Damen, and what had happened between them, and she wondered if she should go find him, but knew it would look silly to search for him on his own ship.
And then she felt the yacht surge forward, and realized that the engines had started because they were leaving the bay. She lay on the bed and gave herself over to the lovely motion of the yacht traveling through the water. The gentle rocking motion lulled her back to sleep.
When she woke again, it was morning, the sun high in the sky, and a breakfast tray waited for her on the table next to the bed, with a pale pink robe draped across the foot of the bed and her set of luggage from the villa standing sentry next to the door.
Kassiani slid from the bed and picked up the robe, slipping her arms into the silk sleeves. The robe was soft and incredibly light, hugging her curves as she tied the sash at her waist. Glancing into the mirror, she loved the color of the kimono. It was a pale pink that deepened to a rose at the thigh and by the hem had become a gorgeous burgundy. Burnt-orange peonies and delicate little birds had been hand-painted on the watercolor background and yet the cinched sash made her waist look wide and her body overly lush.
She really, truly hated her shape.
Damen hadn’t seemed to mind when they were together, but then, he’d left in the night and hadn’t returned. What did that mean?
She set the breakfast tray on the bed before climbing back in, and pulling the covers up. As she sat back down, she felt a little sore.
Suddenly she felt nervous and shy.
What did Damen think of last night? Was he disappointed? Or had she been able to satisfy him?
She reached for the pot of coffee, and filled a cup. Steam rose from her cup so it was still quite hot. The tray had only recently been delivered, then. She wondered if Damen had brought the tray to her and then grimaced. Unlikely.
She took a sip from her cup, savoring the coffee. She loved her coffee black, and strong, and this coffee was perfect. Everything was fine. Damen was fine. Last night had been fine...more than fine... There was no reason to worry. Things were just new and different.
She took deep calming breaths as she sipped her coffee, practicing the yoga breathing she’d learned, the breathing more helpful than the yoga poses that had just made her feel clumsy. Just like that, Kassiani felt a wave of insecurity, and she deliberately smashed her fears. Worrying wouldn’t accomplish anything. Instead, she reached for one of the pastries, selecting a flaky bougatsa filled with custard, and tried to decide how she was going to spend her first day as Mrs. Damen Michael Alexopoulos.
* * *
Damen had more than enough work to do to spend the day, and evening, at his desk.
He told himself he didn’t need to worry about his new bride, that it wasn’t a good use of his time and energy to obsess about her.
They’d survived the wedding. They’d consummated the marriage. They would be together for the next week or so as they sailed the Aegean Sea. Why should he worry? Kassiani had an entire yacht of entertainment at her disposal. She’d be content, and for his part, he was far more content away from her. She wasn’t what he’d expected.
