“Marriage doesn’t have to be bad,” she said gently. “My parents had a good relationship and a solid marriage. They were still very much in love until the end.”
“How do you know they were in love?”
Georgia closed her eyes, picturing them. It had been almost six years since she’d last seen them. Four years since they died. And yet it felt like forever.
“They were affectionate and warm,” she said after a moment. “They were kind towards each other. My father was protective of my mom, but also respectful. My mother wasn’t shy about telling us girls that we’d be lucky to find a man as good and kind and loving as my father. She adored him. And he made her laugh, which always fascinated me since Mother was quite serious at heart. She rarely laughed with us girls, but my father could make her giggle—” Georgia broke off, lost for a moment in time, seeing her mother at the kitchen stove, making dinner, and then turning as Father entered the kitchen, her mother’s face lighting up.
“They were friends,” she continued after a moment. “And obviously lovers, too, but their friendship and respect for each other was at the heart of their relationship, and that’s what I’ve always wanted. Someone who would like me and respect me and treat me as an equal.”
“It sounds so very American,” Nikos said.
“The desire to be treated as an equal?”
“We don’t think of marriage that way in Greece. It’s not about equality but about fulfilling your role. To be a good husband. To be a good wife. It’s easier to do that than asking, demanding, that men and women be equal.”
“And your wife knew this was your viewpoint?” Georgia asked.
His broad shoulders shrugged. “We didn’t talk enough about the important things. Elsa loved fashion and shopping, and she was eager to set up our home. My job was to work and provide—”
“You know that, or you expected she would?”
“She did not want to work. She wanted to be taken care of. And she knew I had the ability to take care of her.”
“Was she beautiful?”
Nikos hesitated. “Yes.”
“What did she look like?”
Another hesitation. “Tall, slender, blonde.”
“Greek?”
“No. Scandinavian.”
Like me, Georgia thought. But she couldn’t just leave it at that. She had to ask, had to get his reaction. “Is that why you wanted an egg donor who was tall, slender, blonde?”
“Yes.”
Georgia had to ponder this, as it struck her as odd that he’d want an egg donor similar to his wife and yet he wouldn’t have a baby with her. He must have loved her very much, and it was on the tip of her tongue to ask him, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to put the question to him.
Or maybe it was because she didn’t want to hear him say the words.
Elsa was gone and not here, so why introduce her? Why make her part of their night? Because this was their night... It was an escape...an adventure. Georgia was determined to protect the adventure.
As well as the romance.
Because there was something here between them, and it felt good. Special. And for tonight that was enough.
“I think we’ve talked about my marriage enough,” Nikos said, sitting up. “Let’s talk about something far more interesting. Let’s talk about you.”
“I’m not that interesting.”
“I disagree.” He was sitting on the edge of the bed now, his muscular legs extended in front of him. He gestured to her, indicating she was to come to him.
Georgia, who’d wanted to be close to him all day, suddenly felt a spike of panic. Her heart jumped, pulse quickening. It was one thing to anticipate seduction; it was another to be seduced.
He noticed her hesitation. “Have you come to your senses? Realized what a mistake this would be?” There was a hint of mockery in his voice, and yet tension rolled from him in waves.
She could feel his intensity from where she sat. He was suddenly very big and very male, humming with a primal energy that reminded her of a great cat on the prowl.
“You’re making me a little nervous,” she admitted.
“Why?”
“Because the kisses are always so good, but I’ve learned with you there’s a price for such pleasure.”
“We’re not doing that anymore. I’m not doing that anymore. I’m not going to hide myself from you anymore. You will see me as I am. You will see more for who I am. Good. Bad. Ugly.”
“Not bad, not ugly,” she said.
“You don’t know that yet.”
“My gut is rarely wrong.”
The corner of his mouth lifted and he gestured for her again. “Come, gynaika mou—I want to kiss.”
“Just kiss?”
“I shall leave that up to you. You control this. You are in charge. If you just want to kiss, we kiss. If you want me to put my mouth on you, and make you come, I will. If you want my body filling you, then I will do that. I am yours to command. So come. Now. I am impatient for you.”
She slowly stood, finding him utterly compelling and seductive. “But I thought I was in charge. I thought you are mine to command.”
He leaned forward, caught her wrist, drew her to him. “After the first kiss. Let me kiss you properly, as I’ve wanted to kiss you all day, and then you shall be in charge.”
He pulled her down between his legs, so that she was half kneeling at his feet. His hands clasped her face. His thumbs stroked her hot, flushed cheeks.
“So beautiful, my woman, agapi mou,” he murmured, lowering his head to hers, his lips brushing hers.
The kiss was soft, almost sweet, and she leaned into it, kissing him back, and that was all it took for her lips to burn and her tummy to flip. She shivered as he deepened the kiss, parting her mouth to drink the air from her lips.
Hot, sharp darts of sensation rushed through her, making her head spin. She reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He lifted her from the floor, kissing her as he stretched her on the bed next to him.
As he kissed her, his hand went to her waist and then slid up her rib cage to cup the softness of her breast.
She arched into his hand, groaning as he circled a nipple, tugging on it to make it even harder.
“You know my body too well already,” she murmured as he dropped his head to kiss her nipple through her blouse and bra. His mouth was warm. His teeth found the tip, gently biting. She gasped.
“Too much?” he asked, lifting his head.
She stared up into his eyes, which were so beautiful and dark, and she shook her head, feeling wanton and yet good. “No. Not even.”
“You want more?”
“I want everything.”
“Perhaps we keep it to kissing for now, make sure you don’t change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
“We’ll see,” he said, lifting her long skirt and pushing the knit fabric over her knees. His mouth followed, his lips and tongue cool and then hot against her heated flesh. She was wearing small white satin-and-lace bikini briefs that sat low on her hips, below the curve of her bump, and his fingers brushed her, over the panties, over her mound and down between her legs where she was wet.