The Kyriakos Virgin Bride (13 page)

The pressure started to build against Pandora's eardrums. She needed a breath, but she didn't want to leave the silent blue world where Zac floated warm and solid against her.

This must be what it felt like to be a mermaid, Pandora thought hazily and licked at the cavern of Zac's mouth. Then his legs kicked and they jetted upward. They broke the surface and broke apart, gasping for air.

“Are you trying to drown me?” He slicked his wet hair off his face.

For the first time since she'd met him she felt as if she had the upper hand. “I've never been kissed under water.” A breathless exhilaration filled her and a reckless rush of adrenaline pumped through her. She grinned at him.

“Well, I'm glad there's something where I could be first.”

Instantly the lighthearted euphoria evaporated. Was her youthful stupidity always going to come between them? Pandora turned away and struck out for the rock. She made it safely and pulled herself out, wishing desperately that she wore her swimsuit top. She folded her arms across her exposed chest.

When Zac reached the rock, he said, “I shouldn't have said that.”

“No, you shouldn't.” She pursed her lips and stared over his head at the white sandy beach.

“You look like a mermaid. A very beautiful, very sexy and, right now, mad-as-hell-at-me mermaid.” The hand that he rested on her thigh made her jump. She struggled to ignore him.

“Look at me.”

“Why?”

“I want you to see what you do to me.”

“I felt…in the water.” Pandora felt herself flush.

“I'm not talking about what you do to me physically. I want you to look into my eyes and tell me what you see.”

She gazed into his upturned face. The reflected rays of the sun turned his eyes to jade, and a rivulet of water ran from his wet hair down the hard bones of his cheek.

“So what do you see?”

She shook her head.

“Tell me.”

“I can't read you—you're too good at hiding what you feel.”

“Then I'll show you,” he said with a husky growl and dropped his head.

The sleek stroke of his tongue on the soft skin above her knee caused her to shriek, “Zac! Don't.”

“Mmm, you taste of salt and sun and bright white heat.”

Pandora shuddered but didn't object as his mouth touched her again.

Taking silence as assent, he moved higher.

She tensed…waiting. Her legs parted at his touch. He tugged at the little bows at her hips, and she sighed as the wet fabric gave and fell away. When his tongue touched her…there…she shut her eyes and her head fell back. She moaned, a hoarse, primal sound. She forgot about the hard rock under her bottom, forgot that she was naked, that he could see every intimate part of her, and her whole existence became focused on the sharp pulses of pleasure.

When the shudders came she gasped and tensed, then spun into a place that was hot and cold and the colour of silver. She opened her eyes, and his face, blazing with triumph, filled her vision.

“I could get addicted to watching you come.”

She coloured, suddenly self-conscious, and shifted, closing herself to his gaze.

“Don't. You're beautiful. Like the heart of a flower.”

“Zac, you're embarrassing me.”

He rose up and with gentle care he lifted her off the rock, slid her slowly down his body until her thighs reached the water. She squealed at the cold and wrapped her legs around his thighs and buried her face in the arch where his neck joined his shoulder.

“What about you?” she whispered.

“What about me?” There was a hint of laughter in his voice, and Pandora was unbearably conscious of his hands cupping her bare bottom and holding her securely against him.

“Don't you want…to…to…” Her voice trailed away.

“Come?”

“Yes,” she whispered, burying her face deeper against his skin and smelling the salt and residue of aftershave and pure male.

“We have the whole afternoon to make love.”

That made her lift her head. “Here? On the beach?”

“Why not? We're all alone.”

He bent and brushed a kiss over her mouth. Instantly her lips parted and his tongue sank into her. The kiss was deep. Intimate. Anticipation ratcheted up a notch and Pandora waited, her senses on fire. The hands on her buttocks tightened. She gasped and desire clawed its way up her spine. She wriggled against him, the hard stomach muscles rubbing the naked heat of her. He hoisted her a little higher so that the smoothness of his erection slid between them, sliding through the highly sensitive folds.

Shivers caught her.

The reckless desire soared.

“Now.”

He laughed. “Be patient. We have all afternoon. We'll go back to the beach. I'll lay you down on it, then I'll kiss you here—” a touch that made her gasp “—and then you can have me.”

Her head thrashed from side to side. “I don't want to wait. I want it now.”

Zac's breathing grew ragged.

“Like this?” The blunt hardness probed her.

Pandora arched her back, sweat breaking out along her spine. “Yes,” she hissed out. “Just like that.”

He slid all the way in, and goose bumps of pleasure broke out over her skin at the intense sensation that swept her. She moaned and clutched at his shoulders.

He moved inside her. Pandora gasped. His hands relaxed a little, creating a space between them, and she felt him slide out, then he was pulling her close again, impaling her, the friction unbearable. Her pulse was hammering in her head, growing louder and louder until it became a roar.

Zac swore, harsh and succinct, and sank into the water, submersing them both below the surface. The sudden cold broke the daze of desire, and with a jerk Pandora realised the roar in her ears was real—not her heartbeat but the sound of a chopper. She yanked her arms from around his neck and crossed them over her breasts—way too late.

“Don't worry, they can't see us. We're in the lee of the rock.” He held her locked against him, and the speed of his thrusts increased.

Pandora was torn between worry that they might be discovered—that the helicopter might sweep overhead—and the feverish escalating sensations that threatened to send her spinning into a climax.

“I can't hold back.” His voice was hoarse. His hands tightened on her rear, pulling her closer still.

“Don't you dare—”

He was moving wildly against her, within her. “I can't hold anymore.” And then he was shuddering, his large body trembling against her.

Pandora was aware of a terrible burning frustration before the sound of the beating rotors drowned out everything except the fear of discovery.

Zac swore. “Who the hell can that be?”

Pandora hoped frantically that Zac's assurance that no one except his family knew about his island hideaway was true. And that the paparazzi hadn't found them.

 

In silence they rapidly pulled on their clothes and jogged back to the villa. A helicopter bearing the logo of a commercial operator was partially visible on the helipad atop the flat roof by the time Pandora followed Zac up the stone stairs to the terrace and through the side door into the house.

She was excruciatingly conscious of her tousled hair and the wet patches where her T-shirt and shorts clung to her sea-dampened body, sure that anyone could see at once what they had been doing.

As the sound of a woman's voice reached them, Zac's pace increased. “What are you doing here, Katy?”

“Don't be so rude, brother dear.” Katy shook her head. “Pandora, it's fabulous to see you again.” Pandora was enfolded in a quick hug and an airy kiss landed on her cheek. Zac's sister stepped back. “Look at you, so tanned. You look wonderful.” She drew a breath, bubbling with radiance. “I've picked up a little weight, can you see? The doctor said I was too thin—we're trying for a baby again.”

Zac gave a sigh. “I suppose that means you won't come to your senses and leave Stavros?”

“Zac!” His sister pinched his arm. “Don't joke.”

Pandora glanced from one to the other, trying to follow the byplay. She didn't think Zac was joking. He looked dead serious, his full mouth set in a hard line. What had Katy's husband done to deserve his ire?

“Where is Stavros? I don't suppose you left him behind in Monaco? Or at one of Angelo's resorts?”

“Zac! Don't be naughty. You know we've been in London.”

Naughty?
Pandora sputtered over Katy's choice of adjective. Zac was too male, too dangerous to ever be described as anything as boyish as
naughty.

Katy was babbling on. “He's here. He's coming now. He wanted a quick shower. Be nice to him, Zac. For my sake. Please.” Katy gazed up at her brother with soft, imploring green eyes. “He's trying really hard. He's promised me there won't be any more…slips at the casino tables.”

“I'll believe that when I see it,” Zac muttered sotto voce. Pandora glanced at Katy to assess her reaction to Zac's taunt. Either she hadn't heard the last comment or she'd chosen to ignore it. Deciding it was time to give Zac and his sister a little private family time, Pandora moved to the door.

“Where are you going?” Zac demanded.

“I thought Katy might appreciate something cold to drink in this heat.”

“That would be lovely. Thank you, Pandora.” Katy threw her a white smile.

“Maria will be up in a moment. Come sit down.” But Pandora barely heard Zac. Her attention was riveted on the man walking through the door arch.

“Steve!” The strangled whisper died in her throat. No, it couldn't be. Not now. But the man looked horribly similar. Same curly black hair and brown eyes, same corded, lean body.

There was no doubt in her mind—it
was
Steve.

Older, a little softer, but still good-looking in an ivory-skinned, raven-haired, continental kind of way—and still very aware of the impact of his looks. He hadn't seen her yet; he was too busy directing that practised charming grin at Zac.

Of course, Zac didn't appear charmed at all. But then, Zac wasn't an impressionable almost-eighteen-year-old.

God, she'd landed in a nightmare.

She bent her head forward, hoping to remain unnoticed, peeping with fatalistic trepidation through her damp hair, her heart twisting in her chest, making her feel quite ill.

Zac had ironed the distaste out of his face. “Stavros, you missed my wedding. Let me introduce my wife, Pandora.”

Finally Steve—Stavros, whatever his name was—looked at her. Pandora wanted to drop through the floor. How could she have fallen so hard for this man? Next to Zac he looked so lightweight.

“Pandora?” Zac frowned at her.

“Oh, hi,” she greeted breathlessly to make up for her lack of manners.
Please don't say anything,
she prayed.

Stavros was staring at her and she read the knowledge in his eyes. He remembered her. Damn. A quick brooding glance in Zac's direction, then his attention came back to her, a hint of malevolence in his smile. “It's been a long time. How are you, Pandora?”

The words were a death knell.

There was a horrid silence.

Then Katy said, “You know Pandora? What a coincidence. How nice for Pandora—she knows hardly anyone yet. Where did you guys meet?”

Pandora prayed harder.

Steve—Stavros, she amended—must have seen something of the desperation in her eyes, because he gave a dismissive laugh. “It was a very long time ago.”

“It couldn't have been that long ago,” Zac drawled. “My wife is not yet twenty-one and she was a schoolgirl not so long ago. Fill us in, Politsis. Please.”

“Zac—” Pandora tugged at his sleeve. “Can I speak to you alone?”

“Now?”

“Yes.” Pandora felt light-headed with shock. She must be white as a sheet.

A bride pure in mind. A bride pure of body.

God, why had she lied? She'd failed Zac on both counts. He would never forgive her, but she could try to explain….

Maria chose that moment to arrive with a tray of cold drinks. Katy signed her thanks and took one off the tray with a big smile at the old woman.

Pandora edged to the door, dragging Zac with her.

Katy's glass clinked against the table as she set it down. “So where did you and Pandora meet? I can't remember you ever going to New Zealand?” Katy was asking her husband with interest.

Pandora quickened her pace, nerves balling her stomach into a tight knot.

“We met in Sardinia. Pandora was there with a group of friends.”