Page 31 of Virgin's Night with the Greek

‘Do you hurt?’

‘No.’

‘Good.’

‘How doyoufeel?’ she asked, suddenly needing to know, apropos of the gap in momentousness, whether he found her inexperienced efforts a turn-on or tedious, whether she was just a pity project that appealed to his hero complex and he was simply going through the motions or whether he genuinely found her as irresistible as she found him.

He arched one dark eyebrow. ‘Me?’

She nodded.

‘Oh, I feel just fine,’ he said with a slow seductive smile that, to her relief, suggested he didn’t find her remotely tedious and really wasn’t just going through the motions. ‘In fact, come over here and I’ll show you.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

LEOFELTSOFINE,so utterly content with the situation here, that when Sunday afternoon rolled around and he realised that one weekend wasn’t going to be nearly enough, that he needed longer with Willow, it really was no big deal. It was simply that he wanted more of the stunningly inventive sex they’d been having, which was just as incredible as he’d anticipated, possibly even better.

That first time had been it for slow and careful. Having discovered what her body was capable of and newly empowered, Willow had embraced experimentation with an enthusiasm he could never have imagined. The ease and speed with which she picked up new skills was impressive. The brilliant wielding of pastels wasn’t her hands’ only talent, and the things she could do with her mouth...Theos.

She’d made him physically lose control, repeatedly, something he could not recall ever doing before, but despite his initial unease, he’d come to realise that it was no cause for concern. No one had been hurt and as far as he was aware the world had not ended, which why he was so comfortable with the idea of extending the weekend by a day or two.

After all, it wasn’t as if he were planning on going AWOL for a month. He’d only be away from the office for forty-eight hours max. He’d been on business trips that lasted longer without any drama. Disaster was unlikely to strike in such a short time and if it did, he was always on end of a telephone. His staff, his clients, the board,no oneneed ever know what he was getting up to when not at his desk answering the occasional email. Assuming Willow was amenable, it was an excellent plan—personally and professionally speaking, the best of both worlds.

‘I should go,’ sighed the goddess in question, glancing at her watch and peeling herself off him with what encouragingly felt like reluctance.

Before she could get very far, however, Leo rolled her onto her back and pinned her to the bed. ‘Do you want to?’

Her shimmering gaze met his, her breath catching, the pulse at the base of her neck fluttering madly. She gave her head a minute shake, the colours of her hair warm in the early evening sun, and he was filled with an absurdly overwhelming relief at the knowledge that she wasn’t done with this any more than he was. ‘Not right now, no.’

‘Then don’t.’

Of course Willow was going to agree to stay. She didn’t want to give any answer other thanyes, yes, yes.

The thought of leaving Santorini and Leo had been the only sour note in an otherwise gorgeous weekend. She wasn’t nearly ready to go. She was having far too brilliant a time. Not only had she discovered the wonders of great sex, she was also living the adventure and passion Selene had talked about and she’d so envied.

The private jet... The beautiful estate with its shimmering infinity pool and perfect curve of pebbled beach... The handsome, enigmatic billionaire who burned her clothes off every time he looked at her, who showed her fireworks and patience, whichever was required... Why would she want to give any of that up?

She had nothing pressing to return to. Work on her next commission didn’t start for a while. The handful of social engagements she had in the diary were easily cancellable and the neighbour who checked in on her father every other day reported he was fine.

She estimated she had around two weeks before reality struck and her world became one of pain, but she’d be long gone by then. No one had ever witnessed the trauma she went through when on her period and no one ever would. She was at her most vulnerable at such times, weak and a wreck. The thought of the emotional intimacy that having someone with her throughout would engender tightened her throat and curdled her stomach. Leo, with his three sisters, might claim to be unfazed by girls’ stuff but even he would probably be thrown by it, and she wanted him to remember her as bright and strong, as a crazy, colourful moment in his otherwise ordered, controlled life.

So a week or so of playing Cinderella and pretending that she was easy-going and carefree, that her life wasn’t ruled by endometriosis, was all she could have, but it was infinitely better than the nothing she’d been expecting.

‘Tomorrow’s Monday,’ she said, nevertheless inordinately giddy at the prospect. ‘Don’t you have to work?’

‘I don’t need to be in the office to do that. I am certain I can remain here for another day or two without the company imploding.’

A day or two, no more? Hmm. That was a bit disappointing. It wouldn’t be nearly enough for her, she suspected. But maybe she could deploy her new-found wiles to persuade him to reassess. He appeared to be in a changing-the-plan kind of a mood, after all, and with the high she was riding at the moment, anything felt possible.

‘All right,’ she said, smiling up into his dark gleaming eyes, excited at what the next forty-eight hours—hopefully more—might hold.

‘Good.’

With the flash of a satisfied smile, Leo leapt off the bed and grabbed his phone. He made a series of calls, all of which were in Greek, none of which she understood. Then he sent for her belongings, which arrived the following morning, and that was the extent of communication with the outside world for a while.

Two days later, mid-morning, Leo’s phone rang for what felt like the hundredth time of the day. He set the coffee maker on the lit stove so it could do its thing, then fished the device from the back pocket of his shorts. Zander’s name scrolled across the screen. Resisting the temptation to simply cancel the call and get on with preparing breakfast in peace, Leo reminded himself that, however intrusive, he still had responsibilities, and pressed the green button that answered the call.

‘So Leo,’ drawled his brother, once they’d established that it was indeed a good, if late, morning. ‘Where the hell are you and what exactly are you doing?’

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