Not just tonight. Longer.
The moment the Axopar pulled alongside the yacht, Alexandros stood and extended his hand. The lights from the deck cast a soft golden glow across the water, catching the shifting colors of dusk still clinging to the horizon. Dani looked up at him, her eyes unreadable—but she didn’t hesitate. Her fingers slid into his, small and warm, her trust disarming in a way nothing else could have been.
He helped her up, keeping her close as they stepped onto the yacht’s polished deck. The subtle sway beneath their feet felt like the sea itself was holding its breath.
When they entered the main salon, he saw the exact moment Dani noticed the table.
It wasn’t elaborate—just a crisp white cloth, two elegant place settings, and a candle flickering inside a hurricane lamp. But it was intimate. Thoughtful. Intentional.
Her lips curved, the corners of her mouth quirking with quiet amusement. Her gaze moved to his as one eyebrow arched in silent question.
Her fingers trailed across the cloth—slow, light, like a lover’s touch.
His body responded instantly.
Desire flared hot and fast, uncoiling in his gut and racing through his veins. He wanted her. Craved her. Not just the way she moved or looked—but the way she felt. Her laughter. Her strength. Her intelligence. Her fire. He wanted to discover every layer, to strip her bare in every sense and find out what made Danika Collins burn.
A flicker of heat crossed her face as her gaze caught his.
She stilled.
Alexandros didn’t move, barely breathed, knowing she saw it—the reflection of that hunger in his eyes. He didn’t hide the evidence of his arousal pressing against the front of his slacks.
Her gaze dipped, lingered, then flicked back up to meet his—steady, curious… and something more. Unspoken. Waiting.
She turned and walked to the rail, resting her palms against thepolished wood as she looked out across the sea. Her silhouette was painted in the dim golden light, a halo of warmth from the salon spilling onto the deck.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked, his voice husky with restraint.
She glanced over her shoulder, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Just water. Non-sparkle.”
He tilted his head. “Non-sparkle?”
“I’m not much of a drinker, and I hate the carbonated stuff,” she said with a shrug. “I never acquired a taste for wine.”
He retrieved a bottle of chilled spring water from the bar and poured it into a crystal glass before offering it to her. As she took it, her fingers brushed his again—another electric jolt.
He set his own wine down, exhaled sharply, and reached for the scarf tied around her hair.
She turned to face him, curiosity sparking in her eyes.
He moved slowly.
Gently.
Unwrapping her like a gift he wasn’t sure he deserved.
The scarf came away first, slipping from her hair like silk through his fingers. Her lips parted when he found the pins hidden beneath and removed them one by one, each removal a dance of seduction. Her hair tumbled down in a cascade of auburn waves, catching the candlelight and stealing his breath.
“Exóplaísi_,” he whispered. Enchanting.
She blinked up at him, but said nothing as he took her glass and set it aside. His hand slid along the curve of her waist, drawing her closer. Her breath hitched, and he felt the tension in her—not resistance, but anticipation.
He paused.
Giving her time.
Giving her a choice.
