words. “Shall we?” He gestured toward the door and gave her a wide berth as he led the way. If he stayed in this room one second longer, the fantasy he’d indulged in earlier during his shower would become a reality. Once in the hall, he drew in a deep breath and stifled an impulse to run. As they made their way down the hall, he hoped that the drinks on the terrace would include something much stronger than wine.
“I THINK THIS PLACE is a magical spot, don’t you?” Roman and I were seated on the terrace, lingering over a final glass of wine and some pastries. The sun was sinking into the sea and the sky was streaked with shades of blue and rose.
“The cuisine certainly is,” Roman said.
I was sure that the food was excellent, but I’d hardly tasted any of it. Our conversation had passed the time pleasantly enough. We’d avoided the topics of the dead man and the sniper and my still-missing cousin Alexi. And talking to Roman earlier about the cats had eased my mind—I was convinced that Ariel was with her brother just as Pretzels would be with Peanuts if she were injured and in need of help.
Instead Roman and I had talked about our work. I’d learned that he was on his way to Athens where he was negotiating a deal with a Greek millionaire and entrepreneur, Gianni Stassis, to buy into select privately owned hotels in Greece. The Villa Prospero was a prime example of the type of place they would approach with their offer.
My contribution to the dinner conversation had been to describe some of the more eccentric animals and owners that I worked with. But all the time what I really wanted was dessert, and he was sitting directly across from me.
Nerves jittered in my stomach, but I was determined to overcome them. I was just not going to let myself waste this opportunity. I ran my finger around the top of my wineglass, just the way I’d seen Linda Hamilton do it in a made-for-TV movie called Sex & Mrs. X. After dipping my finger into the glass, I raised it to my mouth and licked the wine off. In the film, Linda was a journalist who was writing a story on the most famous madam in Paris, and she’d picked up several tricks on how to attract and seduce a man. This particular one seemed to be working on Roman.
Sexy seductress was not my usual role, but I was beginning to think that I might have a knack for it. The dress was helping. I’d never before worn anything quite like it, and the look right now in Roman’s eyes was anything but brotherly. However, the man seemed to have a talent for running hot one minute and cold the next. Prime example—the kiss on the cliff path. I was still annoyed with him for pulling back.
Tonight, I wasn’t about to leave anything up to chance. Roman Oliver was a businessman, so I’d decided that it might be a good idea to offer him a deal.
Leaning forward, I said, “I’ve been thinking. As I told you earlier, I came here to Greece to have a fling. But I haven’t changed my mind about wanting to make love with you.”
He didn’t reply, but the look in his eyes could have liquefied my bones.
“Clearly, your story about your feelings for me being brotherly—well, that was an out-and-out lie. The way you kissed me on the cliff path wasn’t brotherly.”
He didn’t deny it. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all.
Encouraged, I took a sip of wine and went on. “It occurred to me at some point during our individual sessions with Inspector Ionescu that any reservations you might have about having a sexual relationship with me because of my family don’t apply here.”
His eyes narrowed then. “They sure as hell do.”
I raised a hand, palm out. “On the contrary. My father and brothers are back in San Francisco. We’re thousands of miles away on a magical Greek island. They’ll never have to know. And you’ve told my cousin that you’re my brother. So all we have to do is be discreet in public.”
“Philly—”
I ran a finger down the back of his hand (another Sex & Mrs. X tip). Not only did the gesture shut him up, but he turned his hand over and gripped mine. My throat went dry, and I felt the heat streak right to my center. Roman Oliver was going to be some dessert all right.
“You’re a businessman, so I’m going to make you a deal. We’ll have an affair, but it will only last as long as we’re here on Corfu. And it will remain our secret. No one ever has to know. When we meet again in San Francisco, we’ll go back to our old relationship—big brother, little sister.”
He still said nothing. He merely looked at me. But the hunger in his eyes had my toes curling. I debated. I could just stand and take him with me to the room. But I wanted to nail down the deal first.
“Why don’t we pretend we’re strangers? We’ve just met for the first time tonight. I want you and you want me, and for the time we’re here at the Villa Prospero, we’ll enjoy each other. No strings. And no holds barred. Deal?”
There were three beats of silence and each one seemed like a mini-eternity. Finally Roman released my hand and rose. “I want to kiss you, and we can’t do that here.”
I couldn’t feel my legs as we started back to the room.
“I hope that you don’t regret this, Philly.”
I wasn’t sure about the regrets part, but I would worry about that later. What I had to concentrate on now was making sure that Roman would never forget me.
6
ONCE INSIDE THE ROOM, Roman moved fast, using his hands and body to trap me against the door. He threaded his fingers through my hair, then merely studied me. The light was dimming, but I had no trouble seeing his eyes. The heat had my breath catching, my body trembling.
He slid his hands to my shoulders, then down my arms. Flames licked along my nerve endings.
“Second thoughts?”
“No.” Saying the word aloud only heightened my certainty that this was what I wanted. He was what I wanted. The need that had been building inside of me all through dinner was bordering on pain. “Touch me.”
Settling his hands at my hips, he moved in closer. “I’ve been waiting all evening to do this.” He traced a finger up my spine. I trembled. Then he spread his palms against my bare back and slowly ran them down to my waist. Fire shot through my veins. His eyes stayed on mine as he moved his hands again, faster this time, sliding up my sides until his palms pressed against the sides of my breasts. I was throbbing at every point a pulse could beat.
“Last chance, Philly.” His voice had roughened. He was trying to be a gentleman, but I wasn’t in the mood for one tonight.
“I’m not Philly, and you’re not Roman, remember?”
I locked my arms around his neck and dragged his mouth to mine. It was hard and hot and I tasted barely leashed hunger. The flavor was so unique that I had to have more. His tongue took possession of my mouth, his teeth scraped my bottom lip, and the kiss teetered toward pain. And all the while those clever hands raced over me, tracing the curve of my throat, cupping my breasts, digging into my hips. The speed had my head spinning. Sensations swamped me as he lowered the zipper on the back of my dress and stripped me out of it.
I struggled with the buttons on his shirt. The sound of one dropping to the floor only made me more desperate. Finally, I ran my hands up that damp smooth skin, absorbing the hard ridge
