Page 9 of Seasons of Sin

“I love knowing your name,” he corrected.

He settled himself opposite her, his dark eyes gleaming with curiosity as they scanned her face. How would she react? What would she make of his statement? “This isn’t a hotel.”

But Saphire had always been quick. Only the several glasses of alcohol she’d imbibed on the flight had impaired her from putting two and two together. “You’retheKonstanides, aren’t you?”

Her eyes were the most stunning shade of blue. He’d never met anyone with such gem-stone like irises.

“The airline. The plane. That’s you.”

He nodded. “Guilty as charged.”

She expelled a slow breath and cast a speculative glance around the balcony. It was enormous, with large potted palms, shining white marble furniture and a never-ending view of the ocean sparkled beneath them. “This isn’t Athens,” she saidagain, and now the impression of having been on a boat came to her more sharply. She scraped her chair back and glided towards the railing. Beneath them, cutting a dark brown line in the middle of the water, was a pontoon. A luxury speedboat was tethered to it.

“I thought I had dreamed the boat part,” she said, turning around.

His eyes were darkly watchful, as though he was weighing her up.

“Where are we?” She continued, not bothered that he hadn’t spoken. After all, she didn’t need him to confirm her statements. They were facts, clicking into place effortlessly in the morning’s radiant sunlight.

“L’isola Ourano,” he said the words in such a way that spice and magic wrapped around her soul. She couldn’t help but smile.

“You kidnapped me,” she murmured, but her smile was belying the seriousness of the words.

“Yes,” he shrugged. “Or saved you.”

“Saved me?” She moved back towards the table, but instead of going to her seat, she went to him. He was a magnet and she his perfect polar opposite. “How do you figure?”

She was close enough that he could smell her sweet fragrance; like coconuts and vanilla. He lifted a hand to her hip and almost groaned at how good it felt just to touch her.

“The state you were in? If I’d left you at the airport, I doubt you’d have made it to the city in one piece.”

She dipped her eyes forward, shame at how drunken she’d become assailing her out of nowhere. Strange that she should feel guilt and remorse over that, but nothing at all when it came to her willingness to cheat on her husband. Then again, Jordan had really established the precedent there.

“How very chivalrous of you,” she observed with a hint of sarcasm.

He made a noise of assent. “I’m quite the gentleman, I think you’ll find.” He pulled at her waist a little, so that she fell forward, onto his lap.

“And tell me, MK, do you make a habit of bringing very, very drunken women to your island paradise?”

A frown pulled at his lips. He had only come to the island a handful of times in the last fifteen years, since he’d argued with Aristotle and stormed away in a puff of adolescent fury. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re like some kind of Greek James Bond,” she laughed. “With all of these perfect seduction tricks up your sleeve.”

“Really?” He murmured. She was so alive in his arms; so gorgeous and willing.

“Really,” she nodded. Her eyes were suddenly guarded as she turned to study him carefully. “I have to tell you something.”

There was a gravity in her statement that had him instantly on the alert. He lifted a grape from his plate and traced it around her lips, and then bit on it. “Go ahead.”

She shielded those spectacular eyes from his face. “I’m way, way out of my depth with you.”

His laugh was soft. “Why do you say that?”

She swallowed. “I’ve never done anything like this.”

“You said that last night. And again this morning,” he murmured, lifting another grape to her lips. This time, he pushed it inside, watching as she chewed its plump sweetness.

“Did I?” She swallowed. “Oh, right. Did I say … anything else? Last night, I mean.”