her a glass of wine, clinking his with hers. “It’s because I deliver on my promises,” he said, sipping the wine. “
All
of them.”
And there it was again, that liquid slide of heat infusing her limbs. Weakening her with longing. She never knew when it was going to hit, but it seemed to do so way too often of late.
It made her grumpy. “How do you manage to make everything you say sound as if it has a double meaning?”
He laughed. “Perhaps because it does.”
“Why are you here, Christos?”
His eyes glittered hot. “For the same reason you let me in, Lucilla
mou.
”
Heat spread over her skin like an incoming tide. “I let you in because you had food.”
“Of course.” He set his wine down and shed his suit jacket. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest as she wondered what he might do next—but he only rolled up his sleeves, revealing powerful forearms, and then picked up a plate and dished out some food. “Here,try these dolmades. You will think you are in heaven.”
Lucilla blinked. How could he think of food right now when all she could think of was heat and skin and sex? He’d put that thought in her head, damn him. She had
not
let him in for any other reason than because he’d brought dinner.
Riiightt …
Lucilla shook off her incriminating thoughts and joined him at the island. She slipped onto a barstool and speared a grape leaf stuffed with mint, rice and lamb. It was delicious, slightly warm, and she quickly took another bite.
“It’s fabulous,” she said, surprised at how hungry she was. She often ate something small in the evenings, but even she had to admit that an apple wasn’t quite enough. She’d been busy and she’d put off getting up and rummaging in the refrigerator for something more when the doorbell rang.
“Yes, it is. Did you try the souvlaki yet?”
She stabbed a bit of the spiced lamb. “Oh, wow, it melts in your mouth.”
His eyes narrowed as he watched her chew and she suddenly felt hot again. Outside, a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky.
“Indeed it does.”
They ate in silence for a few moments while outside the sky rumbled and cracked. Lucilla studied the food on her plate rather than looking at Christos.
Dammit, this was silly. She was a grown woman, not a teenager with a crush. She could look at him. Just lift her head and—
He was watching her, his blue eyes warm and deep as an ocean for a change. The heat flashing through her grew hotter.
“Don’t stare at me,” she said.
He took a leisurely drink of his wine. “Why not? You are beautiful. I like looking at you.”
“I’m not one of your conquests, Christos. Save the compliments.”
He shrugged and set his wine down again. “Tell me why you are so different from your siblings.”
Her heart thumped. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You’re very serious, very studious. Your name is never linked with scandal. You’ve had no embarrassing entanglements, no public meltdowns. And you don’t seem to want attention. In fact, you shrink from it. I compliment you and you get angry.”
Lucilla didn’t know what to say. A ball of emotion rolled in the pit of her stomach. Itshouldn’t surprise her that he knew things about her, but it somehow did.
Worse, he’d observed things that no amount of research could have told him. Like her inability to accept compliments. To her, they always seemed like false promises. Things people said in order to deflect you from the fact they weren’t going to be there for you when you needed them. She didn’t need compliments when she had accomplishments.
Lucilla dragged in a breath. There were some things she didn’t like to talk about, some hurts that went too deep. Inside, she would always be the little girl who wasn’t lovable enough. Her mother had left them all, and her father had happily let her and Antonio take on the task of raising their siblings while he’d caroused in London. He’d never thanked them for it, either.
Her coping
All
of them.”
And there it was again, that liquid slide of heat infusing her limbs. Weakening her with longing. She never knew when it was going to hit, but it seemed to do so way too often of late.
It made her grumpy. “How do you manage to make everything you say sound as if it has a double meaning?”
He laughed. “Perhaps because it does.”
“Why are you here, Christos?”
His eyes glittered hot. “For the same reason you let me in, Lucilla
mou.
”
Heat spread over her skin like an incoming tide. “I let you in because you had food.”
“Of course.” He set his wine down and shed his suit jacket. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest as she wondered what he might do next—but he only rolled up his sleeves, revealing powerful forearms, and then picked up a plate and dished out some food. “Here,try these dolmades. You will think you are in heaven.”
Lucilla blinked. How could he think of food right now when all she could think of was heat and skin and sex? He’d put that thought in her head, damn him. She had
not
let him in for any other reason than because he’d brought dinner.
Riiightt …
Lucilla shook off her incriminating thoughts and joined him at the island. She slipped onto a barstool and speared a grape leaf stuffed with mint, rice and lamb. It was delicious, slightly warm, and she quickly took another bite.
“It’s fabulous,” she said, surprised at how hungry she was. She often ate something small in the evenings, but even she had to admit that an apple wasn’t quite enough. She’d been busy and she’d put off getting up and rummaging in the refrigerator for something more when the doorbell rang.
“Yes, it is. Did you try the souvlaki yet?”
She stabbed a bit of the spiced lamb. “Oh, wow, it melts in your mouth.”
His eyes narrowed as he watched her chew and she suddenly felt hot again. Outside, a bolt of lightning flashed across the sky.
“Indeed it does.”
They ate in silence for a few moments while outside the sky rumbled and cracked. Lucilla studied the food on her plate rather than looking at Christos.
Dammit, this was silly. She was a grown woman, not a teenager with a crush. She could look at him. Just lift her head and—
He was watching her, his blue eyes warm and deep as an ocean for a change. The heat flashing through her grew hotter.
“Don’t stare at me,” she said.
He took a leisurely drink of his wine. “Why not? You are beautiful. I like looking at you.”
“I’m not one of your conquests, Christos. Save the compliments.”
He shrugged and set his wine down again. “Tell me why you are so different from your siblings.”
Her heart thumped. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You’re very serious, very studious. Your name is never linked with scandal. You’ve had no embarrassing entanglements, no public meltdowns. And you don’t seem to want attention. In fact, you shrink from it. I compliment you and you get angry.”
Lucilla didn’t know what to say. A ball of emotion rolled in the pit of her stomach. Itshouldn’t surprise her that he knew things about her, but it somehow did.
Worse, he’d observed things that no amount of research could have told him. Like her inability to accept compliments. To her, they always seemed like false promises. Things people said in order to deflect you from the fact they weren’t going to be there for you when you needed them. She didn’t need compliments when she had accomplishments.
Lucilla dragged in a breath. There were some things she didn’t like to talk about, some hurts that went too deep. Inside, she would always be the little girl who wasn’t lovable enough. Her mother had left them all, and her father had happily let her and Antonio take on the task of raising their siblings while he’d caroused in London. He’d never thanked them for it, either.
Her coping
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