A Devious Desire. JACQUELINE BAIRD
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sun.
‘Saffron…’ he rasped. ‘You drive me mad.’ And deep down inside her Saffron felt something spring to life— a matching madness. Perhaps…
She knew she should move, get away, but instead her tongue licked nervously over her suddenly dry lips as she anticipated his kiss. The hot brush of his lips over hers made her gasp; his hand cupped the round fullness of her breast and gently squeezed as his mouth moved more determinedly against hers, his tongue thrusting inside, arousing a response in her that she had never experienced with any man before. She felt his instant reaction, his length hard against her lower body, and he broke the kiss with a groan of frustration.
There was no ‘perhaps’ about it, she thought helplessly as, wide-eyed and trembling, she stared up at him. He looked dark and threatening, his eyes narrowing as they scanned the pale oval of her face.
‘God, Mama has surpassed herself this time!’ he exclaimed almost angrily. ‘How old are you, Saffron— nineteen? Twenty?’ His fingers deftly readjusted the top of her bathing suit, and his leg slid off her body so that he was lying on his side. Propped on one elbow, he stared down at her with an expression of disgust twisting his harsh features. ‘I must be crazy,’ he muttered.
Finally finding her voice, Saffron responded in what she hoped was a steady tone. ‘Flattered though I am, I happen to be twenty-five, almost twenty-six.’ And why he should mention his mother she had no idea…
‘Thank God for that. I don’t seduce young girls.’
‘And you’re not seducing me.’ Saffron sat up abruptly, shoving at Alex’s chest so that he fell on to his back. ‘I think it’s time we left here; I’ve had enough sun for one day,’ she babbled as it sank into her bemused mind just where his question about her age was leading.
A strong hand curved around her shoulder as she tried to stand up. ‘Wait, Saffron. I know we started off on the wrong foot yesterday, though you have to admit that was not solely my fault. But we are two consenting adults; surely we can be sensible about this?’
Saffron turned her head to gaze down at Alex. His deep brown eyes were fixed on her face, the residue of passion still lingering in their depths. ‘Sensible?’ she queried.
‘Yes. I want you, more than I have wanted a woman in years.’ He cast a rueful glance down his long body, and Saffron’s eyes followed his and then quickly looked away. The man had no shame, she thought furiously; he was quite blatantly aroused. ‘It’s been a long time since a woman has got me this way so easily, and I think we should explore the possibilities. I know you want me—you tremble every time I touch you. So how about it?’
It was the very matter-of-fact way in which he stated his case that infuriated Saffron. Springing to her feet, she looked down at where Alex lay. He looked like some basking killer shark, about ready to devour its prey. And she was it…Snatching up her towel, she shook it over his supine form, covering him in sand. ‘In your dreams, buster!’ she scoffed and, grabbing her clothes, she stormed off down the beach, his deep laughter ringing in her ears.
Of course five minutes later she had to walk back, but at least she was fully clothed, she told herself. Just let him try anything else and she would flatten him, she vowed.
‘Perhaps I didn’t put that in quite the most flattering of terms,’ Alex began as he pulled on his shorts and slipped his shirt over his broad shoulders.
‘I am not interested in any of your terms, Mr Statis,’ Saffron responded stonily. ‘Now, can we leave? I did want to see the town of Mykonos—that’s what we came ashore for. Not your sleazy suggestions.’
Alex shot her a quizzical glance. ‘“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” You wanted sex as much as I did, only you’re not prepared to admit it,’ he told her casually as he caught her hand. She tried to pull free, but Alex, with one glance and a dry, ‘Don’t be childish,’ quelled her revolt and side by side they walked back to the car.
Saffron was determined not to speak to him again, and on the drive back she kept a stony silence. Eventually, when they arrived in the town, Alex turned to face her and said quietly, ‘OK, I apologise. Truce, pax, friends…’ and held out his hand. ‘I promise, no more teasing.’
Saffron felt the colour scorch her cheeks. What a fool she had been; twice in one day she had melted in his arms, while to him it had been a huge joke. Calmly she put her hand in his and agreed, and she told herself she was not disappointed. Of course Alex could not seriously want a girl like her. His own mother had told her he had women galore.
Soon the charm of the town, and an apparently reformed friendly Alex, swept the earlier episode on the beach to the back of her mind. No one could fail to be delighted with the tiny streets, and the windmills that even Alex didn’t know the reason for. Finally, as the sun began to sink lower in the sky, he led her to Little Venice. The buildings were right on the edge of the sea and the upper storeys hung out over the water in marvellous timber balconies. They walked up a tiny winding flight of stairs to a delightful bar which Alex insisted was the best on the island, with a perfect view of the sunset and classical music in the background. Sitting by the window at a tiny table for two, Saffron had never experienced anything so romantic.
‘What would you like to drink, Saffron?’ Alex asked quietly; it was as if even the great Alex Statis was affected by the atmosphere.
Saffron turned glowing green eyes on his rugged face. ‘Anything—you choose. This is just perfect.’ She could not contain her delight and, stretching out her hand, she touched his arm fleetingly. ‘Thank you for bringing me here.’
‘The pleasure is all mine.’ Alex smiled back, and for an instant Saffron could only stare; his dark brown eyes gleamed with a rare tender warmth, and the effect on her senses was electric.
The waiter arrived with a whisky and soda for Alex and some fabulous red concoction for Saffron, with an umbrella and a sparkler burning in the glass.
‘Cheers,’ she toasted Alex as she removed the sparkler and took a sip. ‘I said “anything” but I didn’t expect to get a flaming potion.’
They laughed together, and then in unspoken accord turned their attention to the view from the balcony, as the sun turned to brilliant scarlet and slowly sank towards the horizon.
The music changed and Saffron recognised it immediately; the opera was a secret passion of hers. ‘Rossini—my favourite composer!’ she exclaimed. ‘The overture to The Thieving Magpie, I think.’
‘You like his overtures?’ Alex’s dark eyes lingered over her fine features, taking note of the mass of hair that rivalled the sunset in its colour.
‘Yes, I adore them,’ she said, slightly uneasy at his unwavering scrutiny. ‘I have quite a collection.’
‘Yes, I can see why. You’re a romantic and as impetuous, pulsing and sometimes as abandoned as Rossini’s music. It’s all there in your cat’s eyes and your magnificent hair—your passionate nature.’
Saffron was about to deny his reading of her character angrily, then realised that what Alex had said about the music was true. Did her love of Rossini disguise an impulsive passionate nature? The thought worried her… She was here on a Greek island with a man she hardly knew…And, lost in her own thoughts, she barely heard his cynically murmured comment.
‘Let’s hope the title does not accurately reflect you as well.’
She glanced warily across at Alex; his dark eyes caught and held hers. For a long moment the sunset, the surroundings disappeared; they were the only two people in the universe, and something deep and compelling seemed to flow between them.
‘You agree with me,’ Alex husked softly, and she did not think he was talking only about the music. She forced herself to look away and, picking up her glass, drained it, making no response. She couldn’t…she was terrified. After one day with Alex, a few kisses and now a glance and a simple observation on her choice of music, the man had made her recognise her own sexuality in