heat that had flooded her body or ease the sudden heavy pounding of her heart.
‘Thank you.’
At least her voice sounded stronger now, without that appalling crack in the middle that gave away far too much of what she was feeling.
She held out the glass to him, expecting him to take it back, check his watch again to see just how long of her allotted time she had left. But instead, to her total shock, he ignored the gesture and, extending one long, tanned finger, reached out to touch it to her cheek just below the corner of her right eye. Instinctively Sadie flinched and would have backed away, but once more something in that intent expression caught and held her frozen where she was.
‘Tears?’ he said on a softly spoken note of blank disbelief. ‘Tears—for a house!’
Tears?
Sadie’s hand flew up to her face, the backs of her fingers brushing her cheek to discover the shocking truth of his words. Tears that she had been totally unaware of having shed had slipped onto her skin, moistening her eyelashes. But even as she recognised that they were there, she looked deep into Nikos’s darkly assessing gaze and knew a terrible sense of despair as she acknowledged that he couldn’t be more wrong about the reason why they were there.
‘Not just a house.’
Had she said the words aloud or just heard them inside her head? She couldn’t tell, only knew that they blazed so hard they seemed to be etched into her thoughts in letters of fire.
Not just the house—not even though it was the home that she loved, that her mother needed. It wasn’t anything to do with Thorn Trees or even her angry frustration at not being able to persuade Nikos round to her way of thinking that was twisting a brutal knife in her devastated heart. Instead it was the sudden terrible sense of loss that she’d known in the moment she’d looked into Nikos’s eyes as he came close to her.
She’d armoured herself against this meeting. Told herself that what she had once felt for him was all over, that time had healed the scars and put a distance between her and the love she had once felt for this man. That his final betrayal and the way he had behaved since, the terrible revenge he had exacted so cold-bloodedly, had left her immune to him, not even hatred surviving of the onslaught of feelings she had been through.
But if this was immunity, then she would hate to have to try and face a fully developed fever! Her whole body was fizzing with awareness, coming to burning life in response to just that one, tiny touch.
No—not just the touch. She was responding to the look in his darkened eyes, the scent of his skin, the sound of his voice, even of his soft breathing, his very presence. Everything about him made her burn as if she stood in the direct line of the sun. And yet, contradictorily, it held her frozen to the spot, unable to move or look away. And hunger, dark and disturbing physical craving, throbbed like a heavy pulse in her blood.
‘It’s not just a house,’ she tried again, hoping to stir him into movement, away from her.
But it seemed that Nikos too had fallen under something of the same spell. After that one harsh question he stood as transfixed as her. His eyes locked with hers, his burning gaze so fixed, so unwavering that it seemed he barely even blinked. And Sadie sensed rather than actually saw the way his long tanned throat moved as he swallowed deeply.
‘Sadie…’ he said at last, his voice seeming to be becoming unravelled at the edges.
And the sound of her name on his lips had the effect of stabbing a stiletto dagger right into the centre of her heart, so that it jolted once, violently, then started pattering rapidly, high up in her throat, making it so very difficult to breathe naturally. His accent had deepened shockingly on the sound, making it raw and rough, disturbingly like the times that she heard him speak her name in the burn of passion, deep in the darkness of the night.
Memory dried her mouth again and nervously she licked her lips to ease the sensation. The water seemed to have done nothing at all to ease her thirst, or if it had then the moisture had evaporated in the heat that his touch had sent rushing through her.
‘Sadie…’ Nikos said again, and at long last the finger that rested so lightly on her cheek moved softly.
But not to move away from her, not to break the contact with her skin. Instead, his touch simply shifted, adjusted slightly, smoothing down one side of her cheek to curl under the fine line of her jaw, lifting her chin. She heard his harshly indrawn breath, watched those heavy black eyelashes close slowly, then open again as the burning bronze of his gaze blazed into her.
And he bent his head to kiss her.
It felt as if she had been waiting for it for so long. As if it was the kiss she had been waiting for all her life. It was shocking, heart-stopping in its gentleness. In anyone else she might even have called it hesitancy, but there was nothing hesitant about Nikos’s taking of her mouth. It was slow, it was sensual, it was totally sure of what he was doing—the effect it was aiming for. It was pure seduction, aimed right at her libido and having exactly the effect that he wanted.
Sadie’s fingers softened, her grip on the water glass loosening so that it fell to the floor. She vaguely heard the splash of water, the thud of the tumbler bouncing on the thick wool of the rug.
But after that she knew nothing else. Nothing but Nikos and the warmth of his body all around her. The strength of his arms as they gathered her close. The pressure of his mouth on hers and the magic it was working as he eased her lips open, slid his tongue along the edge and into the warm softness of her mouth.
His hands slid up her back, into her hair, tangling in the dark silky strands. He twisted his fingers around them, using them to hold her head just where he wanted as he increased the pressure, forcing her to open to him even more.
She was drowning in a dark, heady world of sensuality. Lost to reality and aware only of the responses of her body, following blindly where Nikos led. She was soft and malleable in his hands, unable to think for herself or find any trace of will to call her own. Her own hands lifted, arms winding themselves around his neck, drawing his proud head down even closer, taking the kiss into another dimension, another stage of hungry sensuality.
‘Nikos…’ she murmured against his cheek as he turned his head, his wicked, beguiling mouth finding the fine, taut line of her throat and kissing his way down it to the spot where her pulse throbbed frantically at the base of her neck.
When his warm lips pressed against the tiny point, she felt her breath catch in her throat, the electric shocks of response sparking its way along every nerve, flashing down to pool in liquid heat in the most intimate spot low in her body, between her legs. Restlessly, she moved against him, pressing her body close to the hardness of his and feeling the heated swelling of the erection that marked his undisguised response to her. That pressure was what she wanted. That and more—so much more—and it was obvious that Nikos felt the same as one large hard hand came down to curve over her buttocks, bringing her into even more intimate contact and holding her there.
‘Nikos…’ Once more she choked out his name, restless fingers clutching in his hair, pressing against his scalp, holding him against her.
It seemed that the heat of their bodies had melted her bones, so that she swayed against him on unsteady legs. She heard his breath hiss in sharply between his teeth, and the hand that had been in her hair released her to slide, hot and sensuous, down to her ribcage to cup the side of her breast, his thumb stroking tormentingly over her nipple, bringing it to springing,
