The Passionate Greek by Catherine Dane Page B

conscious now of the sound of his feet behind her. The
handrail she was clinging to came to an abrupt end and where the
last step should have been there was a steep drop. She fell
awkwardly on to the sand. The fall knocked the breath from her and
shocked, she began to sob. Suddenly Nicos was there on the sand his
strong arms about her and he was lifting her up.
    Holding her tightly to him, he spoke softly
into her ear; tell me you are all right? I would never forgive
myself if anything happened to you. Why did you run like that?’ He
held her till her sobs subsided, rocking her gently and stroking
her hair. Suddenly aware of his closeness she tried to struggle
free but Nicos held her to him.
    ‘Let me go,’ she said weakly.
    He half released her and with one hand
cupped her cheek and gently stroked her face wiping away the tears.
‘You know I would never hurt you. Why did you take off like
that?’
    ‘You were shouting at me.’ Even to her own
ears she sounded childish. ‘You looked furious.
    ‘I wasn’t angry. I was just worried. We keep
that gate locked because the men are working on the steps at the
bottom. I had terrible visions of you falling and lying injured on
the beach. I only wanted to stop you. It’s dangerous in the dark’
Without thinking he had used the old Greek endearment for her. ‘I
can’t afford to lose another nanny,’ he said softy teasing and was
rewarded with a muffled sob and choked laugh.
    ‘What on earth were you going down there for
anyway,’ he asked. A look of understanding crossed his face. ‘Ah,
you didn’t want to admit you had flounced off in the wrong
direction.’ But his voice was low and tender, just the way he used
to be with her, All the while he was talking he was stroking her
face and now she felt his hand trail softly down her neck to her
bare shoulder.
    ‘I will have to give you a tour of the
island tomorrow to refresh your memory. Had you forgotten we never
came down here? The rocks here are slippery and dangerous.’
    He was stroking her shoulder in a soft
circular motion. Melanie, mesmerized, felt his hand slip under the
silk top of her dress and felt his touch was on the soft mound of
her breast. He pinched her nipple between his fingers, gently at
first then harder, and she felt control slipping away from her,
swept away by surging sexual need of him.
    ‘His was looking into her eyes intently and
questioningly, as if trying to gauge her desire for him. ‘I want
you. I’ve always wanted you.’ His voice was harsh with need. His
lips crushed down to hers and she opened her mouth willingly under
his probing tongue. He dropped his head to the base of her throat
and began licking, at first gently, then moving down and down to
her breast till she felt his teeth bite her nipple. His arms had
dropped below her waist, folding her to him as he moved her
rhythmically against him. ‘Say it’s me you want. Say it, say it,’
he groaned.
    Wordlessly, she pulled him down to the sand
with her and he was tugging the flame silk chiffon from her body.
His own clothes were heaped on the sand. He knelt over her and
almost reverently parted her. They moved in unison, locked in a
world where only their desire for each other mattered.
    Melanie could not judged how long they lay
there afterward, their passion spent. It might have been ten
minutes, it might have been an hour. They were silent, wrapped in
their own thoughts. He no longer touched her. For her part she did
not want to meet his eyes. Regret swept over her. At last he spoke.
His voice seemed to come from a distance. ‘I suppose I should say
sorry.’
    ‘There’s no need,’ Melanie said in a tight
voice. ‘I was as much to blame.’
    ‘You can’t fix something that’s broken with
sex.’ His words jarred Melanie into saying ‘I didn’t realise we
were trying to fix anything.’ He was on his feet and pulling on his
clothes. Melanie awkwardly reached for her dress. He bent down and
handed it to her. ‘If you