She looked at him and shook her head, forcing herself to be brave. This was the second phase of her life; she was no longer going to be shaped by fear. And in part, that was because Nikos was helping her grow beyond that. She couldn’t run and hide from James for ever; she had to face her demons, to face him.
‘No, it’s okay,’ she said, with renewed determination, as she put one foot on the ledge then swung herself into the supple leather seat. Nikos shut the door firmly then came around to the front pilot side, opening the door and swinging his frame in, before reaching across and threading her arms through the seat belts. Something she definitely could have done if she’d been a little less preoccupied by the whole helicopter thing.
It was when his eyes hooked to hers though, and his hand went between her legs, to retrieve the buckle, that she gasped audibly, gaze falling on him in a way they both understood. No matter what had happened since, no matter how complex this arrangement had the potential to be, this part was simple. He touched her, and her body reacted. And vice versa. She could see it in the way his hand lingered against her sex, the way his lips tightened, as though he couldn’t wait to kiss her there again.
‘Nikos,’ she murmured, without even knowing what else she wanted to say.
But she didn’t need to say anything. He took one look at her then crashed his mouth to hers, all dark and desperate, his hands roaming her body, her legs, her sides, her breasts, coming to catch her face and holding her right where she was, so his mouth could ravage hers until she was a whimpering, desperate mess. ‘Please,’ she whispered into his mouth, heat forming between her legs, breasts tingling with a desperate need for him to take her.
‘Soon,’ he promised, pulling his head away so he could see her properly. ‘I’ve never known anyone like you,’ he said, but with such darkness that she knew, in a way, he wished he hadn’t met her. Because she threatened the life of solitude he’d built. She made him want what he wished to refuse himself.
She lifted a hand, curling her fingers over his cheek. ‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ she said, promising them both that, because they each had their reasons for needing to keep that in mind. ‘It’s just sex. It doesn’t change how you loved your wife, or how much you miss her.’
A muscle jerked in his jaw, and then he was pulling away, sitting in his own seat, fastening his seat belt before running through the pre-flight checks and getting the rotors spinning.
Genevieve’s sigh was swallowed by the sound of them lifting off.
* * *
To her surprise, he landed the helicopter not on a helipad or at an airport, as she might have predicted, but rather, squarely on the top of an enormous yacht, in the midst of what looked to be—going by the size of the boats—an incredibly prestigious marina. The rotor began to slow down, and Nikos flicked buttons and levers before removing his headset and turning to her, his expression now unreadable. ‘Ready,koukla?’
Her heart gave a little stammer as she contemplated that. It wasn’t too late to change her mind. Could she take another day, and try to work out how to explain this to James? But just remembering the way Nikos had held her—for support—in the lobby set her cheeks aflame. The chemistry between them had instantly flared to life and she had no doubt it would have been captured on camera by some nosy passer-by.
And for all she was determined never to rely on anyone again, there was a part of her that felt relief. Relief at the thought of being able to share her burdens for a while. She’d been alone so long, even within her marriage: aware, constantly, that everything was crumbling down around her and she had no way of fixing it. She’d missed her mother, her father, her old friends, her prospective career, and the man she’d thought her husband to be. Now here was Nikos, with his big broad shoulders, offering to help her. Offering to make her load lighter to carry, to help her manage her ex-husband’s response and mitigate his impact in her life.
She would pay him back whatever money was spent, once she was standing on her own two feet. That was a point of pride, and she was determined to do it. But for the rest? Maybe this fake engagement wouldn’t just help her. Maybe she could find a way through Nikos’s grief, too, and that awful cloak of guilt he carried with him. She was stepping into the second phase of her life; could she encourage him to do the same?
‘Yes,’ she said, voice unwaveringly clear. ‘I’m ready. Let’s do this.’
His eyes showed a hint of approval that warmed her chest from the inside out, and a moment later he was stepping out of the helicopter, ducking to avoid the still slowly spinning rotors. Before he could reach her door, though, three men in dark suits, wearing headsets, approached the helicopter. Two moved to Nikos and one to Genevieve, opening the door and saying in accented English, ‘Duck your head down.’ She did, glad she’d opted to secure her hair in a low bun as a cool breeze whipped past the marina at that moment.
The suited man gestured towards a set of wide stairs. Genevieve cast a glance over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Nikos’s even when he was deep in conversation with the other men. He cut off what he was saying immediately and strode towards her, all confident and strong, still her Greek island mountain man, beneath the contours of that incredibly fine suit.
The helipad was on the aft upper deck, and beyond it was a spa and some sun loungers. Beyond these, there was a set of sliding glass doors, which the man in the suit activated by swiping a card across them.
‘Tight security,’ Genevieve murmured, with a glance up at Nikos.
He simply nodded once, at the same time he put his hand in the small of her back and a whole kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttered to life inside her stomach.
Once inside, Genevieve almost lost her footing. The luxury of the yacht was beyond compare. From shiny teak surfaces to white leather furniture, enormous windows showing the twinkling lights of the other boats and, beyond them, the city. They walked through the room with Nikos barely reacting, so she knew that, for him, this was normal, and ordinary. The contrast to his cabin on the island was the strongest she could imagine. There, he’d been stripped back to his most basic elements, surviving through his grit, and ability to pluck fish from the ocean. Here, he had every luxury one could want, including, by the looks of it, an army of staff.
Having cut through the room, they reached the top of a sweeping staircase, carpeted in beige, with gold handrails. His hand stayed on her back as they descended, arriving in yet another palatial living area, this one with a grand piano, and more creamy white leather sofas.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, frowning a little, because she had never been up close with this kind of wealth. ‘Truly, Nikos.’
She glanced up at him to see a muscle jerking in his jaw, as though he was clenching his teeth.
‘I mean, it’s no stone cabin in the woods,’ she joked. ‘But it’s pretty nice.’
At that, he flicked her a grin, and her heart twisted in her chest cavity. A man in a suit entered and approached a low-set coffee table in the middle of the room. She realised, belatedly, that a bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket, with two glasses beside it. There was also a small tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries, which reminded Genevieve that she hadn’t eaten much in the last two days. Her stomach gave a dip of hunger.
The man in the suit unfoiled the top of the bottle and then turned to Nikos. ‘May I, sir?’
Nikos nodded once, staying where he was, at Genevieve’s side, as the staff member uncorked the champagne then poured two perfect glasses, before discreetly leaving again.
‘You have a small army working on here,’ Genevieve remarked as Nikos moved towards the champagne flutes and picked them up.
‘It takes a small army to keep it running.’
