Page 48 of Reunited By the Greek's Baby

Theo wrapped his arms around her, comforting and encouraging her as she came apart, a sense of profound satisfaction blanketing everything else. Until it was too much, the clutching writhe of her body, the way she held his head to her breast, crooning his name over and over as if he’d not only ripped her world apart but put it back together for her.

Whiteout hit. A tsunami of sensation. Heat. Exquisite ecstasy so potent it edged towards pain. Joy so intense it transformed this from sex to something on a new, previously undiscovered plane.

Shudders rocked him and he held Isla close, arms wrapped around her, face buried in the sweet-scented crook of her neck.

He breathed deep, inhaling the tantalising perfume of well-pleasured woman and the tiniest, distinctive trace of rosemary. It was a reminder, not that he needed it, that only with Isla had he ever experienced anything like this.

Because of the baby?

Because of the woman herself?

He’d puzzle it out later. For now all he knew was that Isla belonged with him. He’d do whatever it took to keep her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ISLASLEPTLATE. When she woke, spread-eagled in the centre of Theo’s bed, it was to a brilliant blue sky and a sense of wellbeing she hadn’t known in forever.

Not since the island, when you were with Theo and wildly in love.

That thought made her breath hitch. She couldn’t afford to tumble back into love.

Was it sex that made her feel so good?

From the first Theo had awoken a passionate side of her nature. Yet she felt more than the sated luxury of a blissed-out body.

She thought over last evening, the way they’d connected over their meal out, the barriers they’d broken down as they discussed their lives, each reaching beyond the usual limits to share with the other. That felt significant, as if they really were opening up to each other on a new level as equals.

Was she looking through rose-tinted glasses, seeing what she wanted to see? A cynic would say Theo was motivated by the need to flatten her defences and make her feel they could create a meaningful relationship. Because he wanted marriage, or more specifically, a permanent relationship with his child.

The optimist in her cringed at that view, protesting that last night had been real, both the camaraderie and the joy, and that Theo cared. She’d seen his expression when she’d revealed her past, understanding the sympathy he held in check. His admiration had buoyed her too.

Isla wanted to believe it had all been real but given what had happened before, she needed to be cautious. She couldn’t read too much into last night. Theo had only been back in her life a short time. Once before she’d made the error of believing they shared something meaningful and wouldn’t make that mistake again.

As for anything more, it was too soon even to consider his suggestion of marriage. Her lips quirked. She couldn’t think of it as a proposal, for that implied hearts, flowers and romance. Not something utterly pragmatic.

Besides, she had a sinking feeling she could all too readily fall for Theo again whereas she knew he was focused on practicalities. He was driven by duty and responsibility. Yes, there was caring as well but not the soul-deep adoration she craved.

Was it unrealistic to want that? As long as she could remember she’d yearned for unconditional love. To be the most important person in someone’s life, not for pragmatic reasons but just because.

She flung off the sheet and sat up, amazed again that, apart from the tiniest niggle, there was no nausea. She actually felt well. Energised. Fizzing with anticipation.

‘Sleep well,glykia mou?’

Theo’s rich voice curled around her as she entered one of the large sitting rooms. He was sprawled in a large armchair before the huge picture window, phone in hand and computer open nearby. But he wasn’t dressed for the office in one of his tailored suits. He wore a dark shirt that somehow emphasised the golden gleam of his eyes, sleeves rolled up casually, and faded jeans.

Isla yanked her gaze back up from those impressive thighs, heat kissing her skin at the memory of Theo’s strength. Last night he’d made her feel small and oh-so feminine without in any way diminishing her.

Sexual awareness curled in her belly, the mere sight of him unleashing supercharged, libidinous thoughts.

‘Thanks, I did.’

She’d slept a lot since arriving in Athens, though each morning she’d woken knowing her dreams had been uneasy because of her uncertainty about the future. But last night, or rather this morning, her sleep had been deep and restorative.

‘You’re not going into the office?’

‘Not yet. I wanted to be here when you woke.’

Isla had told herself she wasn’t disappointed, waking alone in that vast bed. Theo was a busy CEO. No doubt he had teams of people demanding his time. The idea of him letting her sleep in and rescheduling his day to be here for her made her feel special.

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