With gentle hands, he urged her back down and knelt above her. “Better?”
“Much,” she said huskily.
He settled down beside her and tucked her into his arms. She twisted about, trying to find just the right spot. When she scooted her behind into his groin, she froze, feeling his arousal there against her skin. She started to move away, when Chrysander growled in her ear.
“Be still.”
He clamped his arms around her, rendering her immobile. Her cheeks flaming, she tried to relax. The moment he’d touched her, her fatigue had fled. Now she faced trying to sleep with him wrapped around every inch of her body.
His warmth bled into her. He stroked her hair and murmured in her ear. Greek words she couldn’t understand, though the comfort they intended was well recognized. She sighed in contentment as his hand glided down her arm, to her hip, coming to rest on her thigh.
She felt a wave of such utter rightness, and she was stunned to realize the nameless emotion she’d been grappling with was love. Her eyes fluttered open even as she heard Chrysander’s even breathing signal his slumber.
She loved him. It shouldn’t surprise her, but now that she’d acknowledged it, she realized that she hadn’t immediately recognized it after her memory loss. Shouldn’t she have known on some level that she loved this man?
He was complicated, there was no disputing that. Complex, hard and reserved. Well, if she’d broken down his barriers once, then surely she could do so again.
She settled down to sleep, purpose beating a steady rhythm in her mind.
Warm lips kissed a line from her shoulder down her arm. Marley stirred and opened her eyes to see Chrysander’s dark head move sensuously down her body.
“That’s a very nice way to wake up,” she murmured.
His head came up, and she met the liquid gold of his eyes. “How are you feeling, pedhaki mou?”
She rolled onto her back and lifted her hand to thread it through his short hair. “Much better. I’m full and had a nap. What more could a pregnant woman want?”
“Our child did not sleep much,” Chrysander said as he slid his hand over her rippling abdomen.
She smiled. “No, he’s been very active lately. The obstetrician said they do the most moving in the second trimester.”
He stared intently at her rounded belly, fascination lighting his eyes. “They don’t move in the last trimester?”
“Yes, just not as much. There isn’t as much room. In the last month, they do very little as their environment gets even more cramped.”
“I would think it would be easier for you to rest then.”
She yawned then covered her mouth with her hand as her jaw nearly cracked with the effort.
“You’re still tired,” he said reproachfully.
“I’m pregnant. I expect I’ll be tired for the next eighteen years. I feel much better though. Truly, Chrysander. Let’s get up.”
He straddled her body, putting one knee on either side of her hips. He looked down at her, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. “You’re so eager to rise. Why is this?”
She blushed and smacked his chest with her fist. He leaned down and tugged her lips into a kiss. He nipped at the fullness of her bottom lip until it was swollen and aching.
“I have half a mind to keep you in bed until tomorrow morning,” he murmured.
Putty. She was complete putty in his hands. If he so much as breathed on her, she went to mush. She twined her arms around his neck and returned his kiss hungrily. She could feel his erection straining against her, knew he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
With obvious reluctance he pulled away and climbed off the bed. She looked at him in confusion. Why was he withdrawing?
He reached down and touched her hair, smoothing the tendrils away from her cheek. “You’ve been through an ordeal today, agape mou. I don’t want to tire you any more.”
He seemed as surprised as she was when the endearment slipped out of his mouth. Her eyes widened, and he tensed. Then he turned around and strode to the closet.
She watched him dress and then disappear from the bedroom. He’d called her my love, and while it had given her an indescribable thrill, it was obvious that it wasn’t something he meant to say.
But he had said it. She held tight to that truth as she got out of bed to dress. Not knowing how he felt about her and why he took such pains to hold himself distant had puzzled her from the beginning. Was it because of her memory loss? Did he fear that her feelings for him couldn’t possibly be considered valid while he was still a stranger to her?
She’d focused so much on her own problems that arose from the gaping hole in her past, but it was obvious that he, too, had difficulties with the situation.
If only she could remember. If only she could reassure him that she loved him whether or not she could remember loving him in the past.
All she could do was show him. And hope that her memory was restored before too much longer.
Chrysander sat in his office, staring out the window that overlooked the beach. Marley stood close to the water, her feet bare and the maternity dress she wore rippling in the breeze. He kept careful watch over her and had instructed his security team to do the same. He wouldn’t take any chances after her fainting spell of the day before.
Just moments earlier, he’d hung up after speaking to the lead investigator on Marley’s case. There had been no arrests made yet. No leads. The men who had abducted her were still out there. Still a danger to her and their child. It was unacceptable.
The detective had promised to stay in touch and to inform him the moment there was a break in the case, but Chrysander still wasn’t satisfied. He wanted results. He wanted to make the men who’d dared to touch Marley pay.
He focused his attention back on Marley, who was still staring out to sea. Every once in a while she raised her hand to shove the curls from her face, only for them to blow back. She lifted her chin and laughed, and Chrysander could feel the impact from where he sat.
She was beautiful and carefree. Unguarded in the moment. He searched his memory for the times when they had been together. Happy. He hadn’t appreciated it at the time, but their relationship—he now admitted to himself that they’d had a relationship—had been open and undemanding.
So what had driven her to betray his trust? He’d almost have preferred she’d betrayed him with another man; but no, she’d gone after his family, his brothers. And that he couldn’t forgive…could he?
Indecision wracked his brain. A large part of him was still conflicted and angry. But another, smaller part was ready to move on. To forget what she had done and embrace a new beginning. Maybe she’d never remember, and if he was honest, it would make things easier if she never did.
He continued to watch her, and his gaze moved beyond her to where one of his security detail stood on guard at a distance. She continued to defy him, and he pretended annoyance, but all he did was make sure his men shadowed her at every turn. Her determination to go against his wishes amused him because he didn’t sense any real irritation on her part. She liked goading him.
And he knew he was being overprotective, but the fact that her kidnappers were still out there, that they still posed a threat to her and their child, sent dark fear through his veins. She was his. He’d failed her once. No matter that she had betrayed him. He’d