Modern Romance Collection: March 2018 Books 5 - 8. Robyn Donald

eyes searching her face. ‘I don’t want you to go,’ he said to her. ‘I want you to stay with me.’

      He watched her expression change. Watched it transform before his very eyes. Saw her cerulean blue eyes widen as she took in the meaning of what he’d said.

      His smile deepened. Became assured. ‘I have to go to Athens this week. Come with me—’

      Come with me.

      The words echoed in his head. He was sure of them—absolutely, totally sure. He felt a wash of desire go through him—not for consummation but for continuation.

      I don’t want to let her go—I want to keep her with me.

      The realisation was absolute. The clarity of his desire incontrovertible.

      ‘Do you mean it?’

      Her words were so faint he could hardly hear them. But he could hear the emotion in her voice, see how her expression had changed, how her eyes were flaring wide, and in them hope blazed, dimmed only by confusion.

      He brushed her parted lips. ‘I would not ask you otherwise,’ he said, knowing that to be true.

      His arm around her tightened. She was so soft in his arms, so tiny, it seemed to him, nestling up against him.

      He smiled at her. ‘Well?’ he asked. ‘Will you come with me?’

      The shadow of confusion, of fear that she had misunderstood, that he did not really mean what he’d said, vanished. Like the sun coming out, her smile lit up her face.

      ‘Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes!’

      He laughed. He had had no fear that she would say no—why should she? The night they had spent together had been wondrous for her—he knew that—and he knew that he had coaxed her unschooled body to an ecstasy that had shocked her with its intensity. Knew that her ardent, bemused gaze in the sweet, exhausted aftermath of his lovemaking betokened just what effect he’d had on her.

      And if he wanted proof of that today—well, here it was. She was gazing at him now with a look on her face that spread warmth through his whole being.

      He brushed her lips with his again. Felt arousal—drowsy, dormant, but still present—start to stir. He deepened his kiss, using slow, sensuous, feather-light touches to stir within her an answering response. He would need to be gentle—very careful indeed—and take account of the dramatic changes to her body after their first union.

      He felt her fingertips steal over his body, exploring...daring...fuelling his arousal with every tentative touch and glide...

      With a deep, abiding satisfaction he started to make love to her again.

      * * *

      It was several days before they went to Athens. Days in which Tia knew she had, without the slightest doubt, been transported to a fantasy land.

      How could she be anywhere else? She had been transported there by the most gorgeous, the most wonderful, the most shiveringly fabulous man she could ever have imagined! A man who had cast a glittering net of enchantment over her life.

      That first morning, after he had made love to her again—and how was it possible for her body to feel what it did? She’d never known, never guessed that it was so—they’d breakfasted out on the little terrace, with the morning sun illuming them.

      Then he’d whisked her off to one of the most famous luxury department stores in the world, from which she’d emerged, several hours later, with countless carrier bags of designer clothes and a new hairstyle—barely shorter, but so cunningly cut it had felt feather-light on her head, floating over her shoulders. Her make-up had been applied by an expert, and Anatole had smiled in triumphant satisfaction when he saw her.

      I knew she could look fantastic with the right clothes and styling!

      His eyes had worked over her openly, and he’d seen the flush of pleasure in her face. The glow in her eyes. Felt the warmth of it.

      I’ve done the right thing—absolutely the right thing.

      The certainty of that had streamed through him. This breathtakingly lovely creature that he’d scooped off the road and taken into his life was exactly right for him.

      And so it had proved.

      Taking Tia to Athens would only be the first of it.

      He’d sorted out a passport for her—or rather, his office had—and they were now flying out...first class obviously.

      For the entire flight she sat beside him in a state of stupefied bliss, sipping at her glass of champagne and gazing out through the porthole with a look of enchanted disbelief that this could really be happening to her.

      In Athens, his chauffeured car was waiting to take him to his apartment—he did not use the Kyrgiakis mansion, far preferring his own palatial flat, with its stunning views of the Acropolis.

      ‘Didn’t I tell you that you should see the Parthenon one day?’ he quizzed her smilingly, indicating the famous ruins visible from all around. ‘It’s not in the best of shape because the Ottomans used it as a gunpowder store, which exploded...’ He grimaced. ‘But it’s being preserved as well as possible.’

      ‘Ottomans?’ Tia queried.

      ‘They came out of what is now Turkey and conquered Greece in the fifteenth century—it took us four hundred years to be free.’ Anatole explained.

      Tia looked at him uncertainly. ‘Was that Alexander the Great?’ she asked tentatively, knowing that the famous character must come into Greek history somewhere.

      Anatole’s mouth twitched. ‘Out by over two thousand years, I’m afraid. Alexander was before the Romans. Greece only became independent in modern times—during the nineteenth century.’ He patted her hand. ‘Don’t worry about it. There’s a huge amount of history in Greece. You’ll get the hang of it eventually. I’ll take you to the Parthenon while we’re here.’

      But in the end he didn’t, because instead, business matters having been attended to, he decided to charter a yacht and take her off on an Aegean cruise.

      His father had commandeered the Kyrgiakis yacht, but the one upon which he and Tia sailed off into the sunset was every bit as luxurious, and it reduced Tia to open-mouthed, saucer-eyed amazement.

      ‘It’s got a helicopter!’ she breathed. ‘And a swimming pool!’

      ‘And another one indoors, in case it ever rains,’ Anatole grinned. ‘We’ll go skinny-dipping in both!’

      Colour flushed in her cheeks, and he found it endearing. He found everything about her endearing. Despite the fact that after a fortnight together she was way past being the virginal ingénue she’d been that first amazing night together, she was still delightfully shy.

      But not so shy that she refused to go for a starlit swim with him—the crew having been ordered to keep well below decks—nor declined to let him make love to her in the water, until she cried out with a smothered cry, her head falling back as he lifted her up onto his waiting body.

      For ten days they meandered around the Aegean, calling in at little islands where he and Tia strolled along the waterfront, lunching in harbourside restaurants, or drove inland to picnic beneath olive groves, with the endless hum of the cicadas all about them.

      Simple pleasures...and Anatole wondered when he had last done anything so peaceful with any female. Certainly not with any female who was as boundlessly appreciative as Tia was.

      She adored everything they did together. Was thrilled by everything—whether it was taking the yacht’s sailing dinghy to skim over the azure water to a tiny cove on a half-deserted island, where they lunched on fresh bread and olives and ripest peaches and then made love on the sand, washing off in the waves thereafter, or whether, like today, it was drinking a glass of Kir Royale and watching the sun set over a harbour bar, before returning to the yacht, moored out in the bay, for a five-course gourmet