She stood and looked about for a waiter, moving to the other side of her table, and deciding to go direct to the bar when she couldn’t find one. But as she spun to the bar she connected with something impossibly hard and broad.
Something strong and firm, like concrete. Something that almost sent her flying across the room for the latent strength contained within its frame.
A hand snaked out to steady her and Hannah lifted her gaze, right into the obsidian eyes of the man she’d been unable to look away from for the past hour. He was rubbing his shoulder distractedly and a little pain radiated from her own, so she presumed they’d bumped into each other—hard.
‘It’s you,’ she exhaled on a tremulous breath, trying to swallow even when her mouth was bone dry.
‘It’s me,’ he agreed, his expression unchanging.
‘You’re like a brick wall,’ she said before she could stop herself. The man’s brows furrowed, and, if anything, he looked even hotter when he was all handsome and forbidding.
‘Are you hurt?’
My pride is hurt. My heart is hurt. But this was not what he was asking. ‘No, I’m fine.’ And something like courage lashed at her spine, so she heard herself say, ‘But I should at least buy you a drink. For getting in your way.’
A stern expression crossed his face and she felt the beginnings of embarrassment, certain he was going to say ‘no’, that she’d just made a complete fool of herself.
She bit down on her lower lip, wishing she could recall the words to her mouth. He stared at her for a long time, saying nothing, and with every second that passed her heart rate accelerated; she was drowning.
‘That is not necessary,’ he said, but made no effort to move. That alone was buoying. At least, Hannah hoped it was.
Her fingertips shook a little as she lifted them to her hair, straightening the auburn mane behind her ear. His eyes followed the gesture, a contemplative frown on his face.
‘I wasn’t watching where I was going,’ she said.
‘Nor was I. In which case, I should buy you a drink.’
Hannah’s heart turned over in her chest, desire like a wave that had picked her up and was dragging her with it.
‘How about I buy this round and you can get the next?’ she said with a lift of one brow.
It was by the far the most forward she’d ever been in her life but seeing Angus in bed with Michelle had robbed Hannah of the ability to feel embarrassment.
His frown deepened. Then, he nodded a little, just a shift of his head. ‘You have a deal, Miss…’
‘Hannah,’ she said, her own name emerging a little husky. She darted her tongue out and licked the outline of her lower lip, her eyes holding his so she saw the way the black shifted, morphing to inky and coal.
‘Hannah,’ he repeated, his European accent doing funny things to the simple two syllables, so her gut lurched.
‘And you are?’
Surprise briefly flashed on his features. ‘Leonidas.’
His name was just what she’d expect. Masculine, spicy and sexy, it suited him to a T.
‘You have a table?’ she asked, shifting her eyes to where he was sitting. A couple had already claimed it. She spun around and saw the same fate had befallen her own seat.
‘I was just on my way to my room.’ He said the words slowly, the frown not leaving his face, the statement almost spoken against his will.
But the question in the words didn’t fail to reach Hannah’s ears, nor her awakening libido. Desire throbbed low down in her abdomen, so heat flamed through her.
‘Were you?’
Plan for seduction or not, Hannah knew she was moving dramatically out of her realm of experience.
‘It has a view back towards Athens. Perhaps we could have our drink on my balcony?’
Hannah had no idea if he was seriously offering to show her the view, or if this invitation was for so much more—she hoped the latter, and had every intention of finding out.
It was stupid. So stupid, so completely out of character, but she wasn’t acting from a rational place. Hannah had had her heart and trust broken and, wounded, she needed something. She needed to know she was desirable. She wanted to know what sex was all about. She had to push Angus way out of her mind.
And this man with his darkly quizzical gaze and mysterious, brooding face was everything she wanted—for one night only.
‘I…’ This was it. Her moment of truth. Could she do this?
The bar was busy and a woman passed behind Hannah, knocking her forward so Hannah’s body was once again pushed against Leonidas’s. This time, his hand reached out to steady her but it lingered, curving around her back and holding her there. Her eyes lifted to his, and doubts filled her. They were mirrored back to her, a look of confusion in his eyes, uncertainty on his face.
‘I want you to come upstairs with me.’ He said the words almost as though they were a revelation, as though he was completely surprised by the pull of this desire.
Hannah’s pulse was like a torrent of lava, hot and demanding in her bloodstream. She wanted that too, more than anything.
‘I just got out of a relationship,’ she heard herself saying, her expression unknowingly shifting so her green eyes were laced with sadness. ‘I was engaged, actually, until recently. I’m not looking for anything. You know, anything more than…’ She looked away, shyness unwelcome, yet impossible to disguise.
‘I don’t do relationships,’ the man said quietly. ‘I don’t generally do one-night stands, either.’
Generally.
The word was like an axe, preparing to fall. Hannah’s eyes slid back to his and the hand that was at her back, holding her pressed to him, began to move up a little, running over her spine with a possessive inquiry that warmed her from the inside out.
‘Nor do I.’
‘Theos…’ He said the word under his breath. ‘I didn’t come here for this.’
There was an undercurrent of emotion to his words, a sense of powerlessness that pulled at Hannah’s heartstrings. And if she weren’t completely drowning in this torrent of desire, she might have asked him about it. She might have insisted they find somewhere to talk. But desire was taking over Hannah’s body, and she reached her hand around behind her back so her fingers could lace with his.
‘Nor did I.’
His eyes glittered as they saw right through her, boring into her soul. ‘A night out of time,’ he said, pulling her with him, away from the bar, weaving with skill and ease towards the glass doors that led to the hotel foyer.
People seemed to move for him—he had a silent strength that conveyed itself with every step he took.
And with every inch they covered, Hannah’s mind was yelling at her that this was stupid, that she was going to regret this, even as her heart and sex drive were applauding her impetuosity.
The hotel had been more than Hannah had expected, despite its billing as one of the world’s finest. It was true six-star luxury, from the white marble floor to the gold columns that extended to the triple-height ceilings, the glossy grand piano in one corner being expertly played by a renowned pianist, the enormous crystal chandeliers that hung overhead.
As they approached the lifts, a suited bellhop dipped his head in deferential welcome. ‘Good evening, sir,’ he murmured. ‘Madam.’