‘Although Loukas has his own demons,’ she finished slowly.
‘Yes, he does. But it isn’t Loukas I’m thinking about at this moment, poulaki mou. It’s you.’ He rolled on top of her, his fingers playing with the tumble of her hair as he felt the softness of her body beneath him. ‘Because without you I would have nothing. I am who I am because of you, Ellie. You made me confront things I’d spent my life avoiding. You made me look at myself, even though I didn’t want to. I’ve learnt...’
‘What have you learnt?’ she questioned softly as his voice tailed off.
He shrugged. ‘That it’s better to face up to the truth rather than to block it out. And that feelings don’t kill you—even the very toughest ones. Everything that’s worth knowing, you have taught me and I love you for that, Ellie Sarantos—and for a million reasons more besides.’ He gave a mock glower of a frown. ‘Even though you have stubbornly refused to let me announce that particular piece of information to the world.’
He traced a thoughtful finger over the angled line of her collarbone. He had wanted to go through a second marriage ceremony—a big glitzy occasion at the Greek Cathedral in London, intended as a mark of his love for her because he felt she’d been short-changed last time. For a while Ellie had been agreeable—even consulting a wedding planner and hearing about the rival merits of a string quartet versus an old-fashioned bouzouki band for the reception. Until one morning at breakfast, she’d told him she didn’t need declarations or lavish gestures. That it was enough to know he cared, and in the private moments of their precious relationship his heartfelt words of love meant more than a truckload of confetti.
And wasn’t that another aspect of her personality which made him love her so much? That the things she cared about weren’t the things which so many people strived for. She didn’t need to put on a show or make some kind of statement. She didn’t need to prove anything. Diamonds she could take or leave, and, although she wore silky tea dresses because she knew he liked them, she was happiest in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She was still Ellie—the same straightforward, uncomplicated woman he’d first fallen for—and he wouldn’t want her any other way.
He reached for her breasts and cupped them and she made a purring little sound in the back of her throat, because she liked it. Theos, but he liked it, too. But then he liked everything about his soft and beautiful wife.
‘Shall I make love to you now?’ he questioned.
She touched her fingertips to the dark shadow of his jaw and followed it up with the slow drift of her lips. ‘Oh, yes, please,’ she whispered.
They were in the place of his birth, but they could have been anywhere. A place which had once symbolised darkness and heartbreak, but not any more. Because Ellie made everywhere feel like the home he’d never really had. Ellie breathed life into his life. He bent his head and kissed her as the night herons gathered around the lapping bay outside their window.
* * * * *
Dani Collins
Off the boss’s payroll…and into his bed
Jaya. Her name reverberates around Theo Makricosta’s head in time to the whirring blades of his private helicopter. He must find her; only Jaya can help with the care of his infant niece and nephew…. It’s not because he hasn’t stopped thinking about the single night of mind-blowing passion he shared with the exotic beauty.
Jaya Powers couldn’t refuse her gorgeous millionaire Greek boss when she worked for him, and she can’t refuse him now! Only this time she has a secret. Their night together had consequences that will change Theo’s perfectly ordered existence forever!
Canadian DANI COLLINS knew in high school that she wanted to write romance for a living. Twenty-five years later, after marrying her school sweetheart, having two kids with him, working at several generic office jobs and submitting countless manuscripts, she got The Call. Her first Mills & Boon novel won the Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best First in Series from RT Book Reviews. She now works in her own office, writing romance.
This one’s for my kids who managed to turn out amazing despite having a writer for a mum. Or should I say, not having a mum.
I often joke that our daughter has done a marvellous job raising our son. For that, and all the times Delainey made lunch for Sam (and me) so I could write, I am deeply grateful.
I also owe a very special thanks to Sam for his suggestion when I had ten thousand words to go on this manuscript and I was stuck. He said, “Dude.” (Yes, he calls me Dude, but this dude looks like a lady.) “Dude, have the brother tell her something she doesn’t know about the hero.” Post-secondary tuition saved!
THEO MAKRICOSTA BLINKED sweat out of his eyes as he glanced between his helicopter’s fuel gauge and the approaching shoreline. He was a numbers man so he didn’t worry at times like this; he calculated. His habit was to carry twice the fuel needed for any flight. He’d barely touched down on the yacht before he’d been airborne for his return trip. A to B equaled B to A, so he should have enough.
Except in this case B stood for boat, which was a moving point.
And he’d made a split-second decision as he lifted off the Makricosta Enchantment to go to Marseille rather than back to Barcelona. It had been an instinct, the type of impulse that wasn’t like him at all, but uncharacteristic panic had snared him in those first few seconds as he took flight. He had wheeled the bird toward what felt like salvation.
It had been a ludicrous urge, but he was committed now.
And soaked in perspiration.
Not that he was worried for his own life. He wouldn’t be missed if he dropped out of the sky. But his cargo would. The pressure to safeguard his passengers had him so tense he was liable to snap his stick.
It didn’t help that despite the thump of the rotors and his earmuffs plugged into the radio, he could hear both babies screaming their lungs out. He already sucked at being a brother. Now he might literally go down in flames as an uncle. Good thing he’d never tried fatherhood.
Swiping his wet palm on his thigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Texting and flying was about as smart as texting while driving, but if he managed to land safely, he would have a fresh host of problems to contend with. His instincts in heading north instead of west weren’t that far off. The perfect person to help him was in Marseille.
If she’d help him.
He called up the message he should have deleted a long time ago.
This is my new number, in case that’s the reason you never called me back. Jaya.
Ignoring the twist of shame the words still wrung out of his conscience, he silently hoped her heart was as soft as he remembered it.
Eighteen months ago...
JAYA POWERS HEARD the helicopter midmorning, but Theo Makricosta still hadn’t called her by five, when she was technically off the clock. Off the payroll in fact, and leaving in twelve hours.
Ignoring the war between giddiness and heartache going on in her middle, she reminded herself that normal hours of work didn’t confine Mr. Makricosta. He traveled so much that sometimes