Dani lifted her hands to his chest, her fingers splaying over the fine linen of his shirt. She didn’t push him away. She slid them upward—slow, deliberate—until her palms rested over his heart.
It thundered beneath her touch.
She rose on her toes and met him halfway.
The kiss was slow.
Searching.
It wasn’t rushed—not yet.
It was reverent.
A question and an answer all at once.
Her lips were soft and warm, molding to his. Her hands moved to his shoulders, curling there, holding on as if the world might shift beneath them. His own hands framed her face, angling her gently, deepening the kiss, coaxing her to open to him.
When she did, it shattered him.
Everything else—his past, his plans, the image of the life he thought he wanted—fell away like smoke on the sea air.
She tasted of salt and wind and something wild he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.
He broke the kiss with a groan, his forehead resting against hers, his breathing ragged.
“Danika,” he murmured.
Her name was like a vow and a prayer on his tongue.
She didn’t answer. Just leaned into him, her eyes closed, her body flush against his, as if she wasn’t ready to let go of the moment either.
And neither was he.
Because in that single kiss, he knew.
She was different.
She was real.
And she was destined to be his.
The subtle click of the door opening broke the spell. Dani pulled back, her breath catching, her cheeks blooming into a flush of delicate pink. Alexandros stepped back as she turned, quickly tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. She reached for her glass of water,masking the tremor in her fingers as the steward entered with the quiet confidence of someone well-trained in discretion.
Alexandros nodded to the man to begin serving.
“I’ll let you know when we’re ready for the second course,” he said calmly.
The steward inclined his head and moved to set the appetizers onto the table.
Alexandros crossed the room and pulled out a chair for Dani. She slid into it gracefully, murmuring a soft, “Thank you,” without meeting his gaze.
He waited until she was seated before circling to the opposite side and taking his own chair.
The steward poured him a fresh glass of wine, bowed again, and disappeared as quietly as he’d come.
Dani took a sip of her water, then met his eyes—mischief dancing in hers. “So,” she said, leaning back slightly. “What did your background report say about me?”
He almost choked on his first sip of wine. A slash of heat rushed to his cheeks—not entirely from the wine—and he cleared his throat, setting the glass down.
