Page 64 of Reclaimed By His Billion-Dollar Ring

It swept over her, wave after wave, as she steadily demolished the pizza, washing it down with the robust local red wine. Nikos did likewise. What they talked about she hardly knew...except that conversation came as easily now as it once had all those years ago.

‘How long can we stay here? At the resort?’ she asked him as, replete with pizza, she finally pushed the denuded wooden platter aside, reaching for her wine glass and leaning back comfortably in her chair.

‘As long as we like,’ Nikos answered. He refilled his glass, then realised that he’d drained the carafe. ‘Shall we order more wine?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘You finish it,’ she said. She frowned. ‘But what about work?’

‘What about it?’ he returned easily. He leant forward. ‘It can wait—both your father’s company and my own. Because this, my adored Calanthe, is our honeymoon.’ His voice was husky as he looked around him. ‘Mind you, I had envisaged somewhere more glamorous, I must say. I was planning for the Seychelles, the Maldives...the South Seas, even.’

She waved away such possibilities. They were unnecessary and irrelevant.

‘Here,’ she said, ‘is perfect.’

She looked around. It was perfect. Perfect because it was a happy place, for happy families having a happy holiday. Perfect because she was here with Nikos and he was all she needed and would ever need to be happy.

She felt her heart turn over. She gazed at him, her eyes filled with lovelight. All that she had once dreamed of...yearned for...longed for...was now hers.

She finished her wine, setting her glass back on the table. She saw the young waitress bringing the family next to them their pizzas, heard the happy exclamations of the children, their colouring sheets set swiftly aside.

She and Nikos had dined early—and she knew why. She watched as Nikos finished off his own wine, then looked across at her. He said not a word—only got to his feet. She did likewise. She waited while he reached into his pocket, drew out his wallet, put down a generous tip for the young waitress, slipping it under his wooden platter, then repocketed his wallet.

He held out his hand to Calanthe and she took it, folding her fingers into his warm, strong hand.

They walked away down the dim path, night-scented with honeysuckle, the cicadas serenading them as they headed back to their little villa. They stepped inside, still hand in hand, wordless and unhurried, for neither words nor haste were necessary now.

At the top of the stairs Nikos turned to her and said simply, ‘My bed is larger.’

She gave a laugh, low and happy. ‘Perfect,’ she said.

And it was.

Quite, quite perfect.

She was velvet in his arms. Velvet and silk and satin. And her mouth was honey and peach. Anything and everything that was sweet and wonderful and wondrous.

With languorous kisses and leisurely caresses he roused her to all that she desired, receiving back from her, with her gliding hands and sweetest lips, all that he could ever desire for himself. Until, holding back no longer, he claimed her in his burning desire and found something he had never known before.

His newfound love for her consumed him, consumed them both. And as their moment of union came...as their bodies fused into one glorious, transcendent whole, possessed by ecstasy...he heard her cry out, sobbing even as it broke through him like a tumultuous wave. He threw back his head to echo her cry, deeper and louder, as her body convulsed around him and her arms clung to him, her thighs wrapping round his to hold him to her, never to let him go, rocking him in the cradle of her hips as her body shuddered beneath his.

And as she quietened, tremor after tremor still quivering through her, he smoothed her tumbled hair with a shaky hand, every muscle in his body slackening. His heart was still thundering, and hers was beating against his, and he drew her with him as he slipped from her, letting his head rest on the pillow beside her, lifting a hand to trace, with wondering gentleness, the contours of her parted lips.

He gazed into her eyes, knew there was wonder in his as in hers.

‘I never knew...’ he said. ‘I never knew the difference love makes.’

She gave a choke, a smothered cry, burying her face in his chest and wrapping her arms around him more tightly yet.

He stroked her hair softly and tenderly, felt wonder and gratitude filling him. And love...such love...possessing him...

Slowly, driftingly, as they were held in each other’s arms, sleep finally took them.

And love held them close for ever.

EPILOGUE

‘MY DEAREST, DEAREST DAUGHTER...’ Georgios Petranakos’s voice was warm, and rich with emotion. His glance went to Nikos. ‘And you, whose love for her will always keep her safe!’

He was lifting a glass of vintage champagne, tilting it towards them both. He was looking well, his recovery from major surgery definitely underway. True, he wasn’t supposed to be drinking alcohol for a good while yet, but Calanthe hadn’t the heart to stop him on this particular day.

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