GUILT HAD SNUFFED out Lizzie’s happiness. She hated deception above all things. It was too strong a reminder of her father’s betrayal. But the rules still applied. She had to tell Thea before Damon. And she couldn’t just blurt it out down the phone. Thea had to be warned first…prepared. It would have to be done with the utmost sensitivity, and it was hard to find enough time to do that with a child who was always rehearsing.
Clinging to practicalities—as she always did when she couldn’t see her way ahead clearly—Lizzie explored her small apartment. It was such a luxury to have all this space after the confines of her tiny bedsit back in London. The walls were simply whitewashed, and the floor was polished wood. There was a small kitchen at one end, with a fridge thoughtfully stocked with essentials, and a balcony where she could eat breakfast overlooking the sea. The bed looked big and felt comfy, and it had a lovely sky-blue throw at the foot that matched the rug on the floor… All the colours of Greece.
So, had she finished procrastinating? Was she going to freshen up now and go downstairs to see Damon?
Of course she was. Soon…
She spotted a local bus timetable amongst some magazines. She’d need those times for when she went to the school tomorrow to hear Thea play…
Glancing at her watch, she knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. So, heading to the bathroom, she stripped off and took a shower. Turning her face up to the refreshing spray, she hugged herself and thought of Damon… Damon holding her… Damon kissing her… Damon making love to her—
She had to forget about it!
Forget Damon making love to her when he was in the same building, downstairs?
And another thing—if she didn’t tell him about Thea soon he’d find out for himself.
Thea first and then Damon.
It seemed a long time ago since she’d discovered she was pregnant with Thea, and now every second seemed to be flying past, Lizzie thought as she towelled down.
On an impulse, she chose to wear one of the sundresses Thea had bought. She smiled when she put it on and felt better immediately. There was a lot of truth behind Thea’s statement. Love was all that mattered. Sometimes Lizzie wished she could see life as clearly as a child. One thing was certain. She had to right this wrong.
Putting it off over the years had a lot to do with the heartache she’d felt when her father had rejected her. Add to that her fear of losing Thea, and Lizzie would be the first to admit that she was just plain scared. She had always met problems head-on before, but the problems had never carried such a risk before.
* * *
Where was she? He shot another impatient look towards the stairs. His work was done. The second shift of people in his team had just arrived to take over the work in the kitchen. He was determined that Iannis and his staff would have a wonderful evening to thank them for all the work to come. He and his team had made sure of it. There was no reason for him to stick around.
No reason except Lizzie.
‘Leaving so soon?’
His stare flashed up. Lizzie’s comment had surprised him. She was calling to him from the top of the stairs.
He rested his fist on the wall. ‘And if I am…?’
She shrugged. Her face was in shadow, so he couldn’t see her expression. ‘If you want to go—go. I won’t hold you to your promise’
As she came slowly down the stairs her wildflower scent assaulted his senses. Her hair was still a little damp, and was hanging in tight curls, and her face was make-up-free. She was wearing a pretty sundress that exposed her pale, fragile skin and clung lovingly to the outline of her breasts. She had teamed this with simple sandals.
The punch to his senses was extraordinary. She eclipsed all the society beauties he’d dated put together. His body responded accordingly, and it took all his willpower to rein it in.
He’d wasted a lot of time dating women who made no demands on him and barely scratched the surface of his interest. Lizzie was different. She’d always been different. She was the one woman who intrigued him, who made him want to know more.
‘Are we going to stand here in the passage?’ she asked him as people squeezed past.
‘After you,’ he invited.
He watched her walk ahead of him, small and proud, pale and sexy, with her striking red hair bouncing freely around her shoulders like a shimmering cloak of fire. The desire to grab a hank of that hair in his fist, so he could kiss her neck and see if that tiny tattoo of a tiger cub was still there, was overwhelming.
His libido badly needed a break, he concluded as they joined the couples dancing between the tables.
The next moment she had turned to face him and her arms were wrapped around him.
‘What?’ he murmured, staring down.
‘Are we going to dance, or are we just going to stand here?’
He’d forgotten nothing.
‘I’m glad you didn’t leave,’ she admitted as he took her hand in his.
She held his stare levelly, as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite put it into words. There was something driving her to be with him, to stay with him, but if it wasn’t sex what could it be?
‘I think we’d better dance,’ he agreed. The urge to feel her pressed up against him was irresistible.
‘If you’re brave enough.’ She laughed.
‘I’ve never flinched from a pair of sandals in my life.’
She looked at him and almost smiled openly, frankly, as she had eleven years ago, but she looked away as they began to move. She didn’t need to hold his stare for them both to know that the contact between them was electric.
They were just relaxing into the rhythm when a band of partygoers crashed into the restaurant from the beach, performing a no-holds-barred version of the Conga.
Letting go of him, Lizzie pressed back against the wall to let the line of whooping dancers through. They stared at each other when they could as the seemingly endless line of bodies passed between them. Lizzie shrugged as it went on and on. He smiled ruefully. The wait seemed interminable, but finally the last of the revellers went by and, reaching out, he linked their fingers.
No other woman came close to making him feel this way, he thought as he slowly drew her towards him, and when every part of them was touching as they danced he knew he’d missed her even more than he could say.
* * *
She only had to hold Damon’s hand and feel his other hand settle in the small of her back for nuclear explosions to be set off inside her. How could she have forgotten how good it felt to be this close to him? If only life weren’t so complicated, she thought as he greeted old friends with warmth and good humour.
She had to get real, Lizzie accepted. Life was that complicated. Damon was a billionaire. She was nothing and no one. She could either enjoy this interlude for what it was, or invite trouble back into her life.
It was all very well, coming up with these good reasons for remaining detached, but when Damon drew her close and his hands became seductive spells she started trembling with awareness. She hated herself for being so weak, but she couldn’t do anything about it. He had to feel how she responded to him—he must.
He did, Lizzie realised as her pulse went off the scale. The dark humour in Damon’s eyes was all the proof she needed.
And then the band slowed the tempo and the music grew seductive. The melody wrapped a cord around her heart and pulled it tight. Music could always strip her emotions bare. She might not be a musician, like her mother or like Thea, but she responded as they did, and the plangent tune was currently ripping chunks out of her heart.
As if he sensed this, Damon tightened his arms around her, and in spite of all her sensible reservations she went to him as willingly as a boat slipping into its mooring. Her body burned with heat as he linked their fingers, bringing them to rest on his chest where she could feel his heart beating.
This was as close as two people could be without making love. Her body was floating in an erotic net. She was made of sensation. Her worries dwindled as reality faded away. She had often daydreamed of being reunited with Damon, but this was so much better than her dreams.
If she closed her eyes the years melted away and she could think herself back into his bedroom, where whispers and touches had been magic spells and the smallest shift of Damon’s fingers had delivered messages only she had been able to read. She wanted that back. She wanted to recapture the trust they’d shared for that one night. But would Damon ever trust her again when he learned about Thea? And could she blame him?
‘Tense again?’ he said. ‘What’s wrong now?’
When Damon stared into her eyes it was impossible to lie to him. ‘You,’ she said. ‘It’s time I went to bed. It’s been a long day. Thanks for the dance.’
He caught hold of her hand. ‘You can’t leave it like that.’
‘I just did. The mood is wrong. Too many people.’
‘Sounds serious,’ he said.
‘It will keep.’ She hoped. As her secret had been kept for eleven years, she had to believe it would keep a little longer.
She had already danced with Damon far longer than she’d had intended. But the band worked against her, segueing into another tune, allowing Damon to bring her close again.
Allowing? How hard did she fight him?
How could someone so much bigger than she was hold her close and prove they fitted together perfectly? Just for a few moments she allowed herself to close her eyes and rest her cheek against his chest. It felt so good. His thigh brushed against her intimately—by accident, she told herself firmly. She was so on edge she was ready to believe anything.
He’d been tender and gentle on that night, as well as hot as hell and sexy, and sometimes she longed for that tenderness and intimacy of thought as much as the sexual act. She wanted that too, of course. She was a normal, healthy woman, and it was impossible to be this close to Damon without thinking about sex.
That night had drawn them closer than either might have expected. He’d confided his hopes for the future, his love for his family, and his desire one day to have a family of his own. She’d told him about the holidays she remembered having as a child, when her mother had been alive. Summers had seemed to last for ever then, and Lizzie’s life had been full of warmth and a love she’d thought would go on for ever.
And then had come the hollow black part. She hadn’t burdened him with that. And then the greatest gift of all—Thea. Motherhood. Responsibility. Love. She’d embraced all three with gratitude, but if life had taught her one thing it was never to take anything for granted.
‘If I didn’t know you better I’d say you had a guilty conscience,’ Damon commented when she shifted restlessly in his arms.
‘No guilt,’ she said.
‘Not even a tiny bit?”
She chose not to answer that. Of course there was guilt. There was more than one parent in Thea’s life. How much more guilty could she feel?
* * *
Damon had often wondered if that first scorching spark between them would stand the test of time, and here was his answer. Sensation ruled him when Lizzie was in his arms. No other woman could come close to making him feel the way she did. His body was a raging conflagration of lust.
But what he liked best about her was her honesty. When other women would tell him what they thought he wanted to hear, Lizzie told him the truth, uncaring of the consequences. The temptation to kiss her—to kiss every part of her—was overwhelming, but once he started he wouldn’t stop, and this was neither the right place nor the right time.
‘Maybe you should go to bed now,’ he agreed. Releasing her, he stood back. ‘Alone,’ he murmured when she stared up at him.
* * *
How had she allowed things to go this far? Lizzie wondered. At this moment in time she would have followed Damon to Hades and back. The thought of parting from him and going upstairs to bed held no appeal at all, yet just a few minutes ago she had known it was the only sensible thing to do.
Iannis intervened, moving between them and insisting on shepherding them to his table.
‘The night isn’t over yet,’ he declared. ‘Eat! Drink! I have reserved two places at my table—’
How could they let him down?
‘Stavros would never forgive me if I allowed his favourite couple to miss out on the best part of the party—my food,’ Iannis explained proudly.
Lizzie thought Damon very restrained in not mentioning that it was his people who’d cooked tonight. More importantly, they weren’t a couple, as both Stavros and Iannis seemed to think. There was only Damon Gavros, billionaire, and Lizzie Montgomery, single mother with a child to protect.
* * *
‘And now we dance the kalamatianos!’ Iannis announced when the most delicious feast had been consumed.
He made a signal and a chord rang out. All his guests wanted to join in the famous national dance, and there was a group exodus from the tables.
‘As my honoured guest, you shall have the honour of leading the dance,’ he told Lizzie, handing her the traditional white handkerchief to hold aloft.
Her mother had taught her the steps of the dance when Lizzie was a child. They had often danced it together, with her mother humming the tune and Lizzie waving a little handkerchief over her head.
‘If you’d rather not…?’ Damon murmured.
‘Try and stop me,’ Lizzie said, standing up.
The distinctive twang of the bouzouki was like a rallying call. The rhythm, starting slowly and building up, made each Greek heart swell with longing. Waving the white handkerchief, Lizzie was the Pied Piper, drawing her flock to the area in front of the restaurant where the beach met the land beyond.
‘I’d kick off your sandals,’ Damon advised.
He was doing the same, she noticed. How ridiculous to find his feet sexy. She had to stop this now. One more dance and then she was definitely going to bed.
It was as if a lightning bolt zapped through her when Damon seized one end of the white handkerchief, effectively joining them by a shred of cloth. Lizzie tightened her grip as Damon’s heat seemed to invade the fabric, scorching her fingers, travelling on from there to her heart—
Really?
She was tired. Her mind was inventing things. They were dancing and that was all. But it wasn’t just dancing, and it wasn’t just music, it was memories wrapped up in a tune: a little girl dancing with her mother, holding her hand and believing that life would stay the same for ever.
‘Lizzie…?’ Damon murmured with concern.
Her eyes had filled with tears, she realised, dashing them away. ‘Why do you have to notice everything?’ she demanded impatiently.
The music suddenly picked up pace, forcing all the dancers to watch their feet rather than chat to their companions. Arms stretched out and resting on each other’s shoulders, their cries of ‘Oopa!’ grew louder, and as the dancing grew wilder several couples collapsed on the ground, laughing. But the band didn’t stop.
Soon it was Lizzie’s turn to grow dizzy, but as she stumbled Damon’s lightning reflexes saved her. ‘I’m going to show you the island tomorrow,’ he said as he steadied her on her feet.
She glanced at him in surprise. ‘You can spare the time?’
He’d never looked more dangerous, she thought, and he was waiting. Decisions had to be made. Common sense told her to stay away from him, but getting to know him all over again took precedence.
‘I’d have to ask Iannis.’
‘Would you?’ he flashed.
They both knew Iannis was only too keen to keep his part of the bargain with his cousin, and give Lizzie as much free time as possible.
‘Maybe a couple of hours?’ she said.
‘Good. That’s settled.’
‘But I’d have to be back by two,’ she said, remembering Thea’s concert in the afternoon.
‘That’s no problem for me,’ Damon assured her.
‘Then, thank you. What time in the morning?’
‘Eight. And bring a picnic.’
‘Don’t you have flunkies to do that for you?’
‘They’re away with my butler at the moment.’
Damon smiled, a flash of strong white teeth against his swarthy skin. She couldn’t match it. Things were moving too fast.
She tried telling herself that if he could be as relaxed as this when he learned about Thea things would be okay, but she knew it wouldn’t be that simple.