The Greek's Innocent Virgin. Lucy Monroe
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he’d finished. He’d hugged her tight and when she closed her eyes she could remember that hug.
It had made her feel safe.
And she remembered waking in the night and searching an apartment in the dark for her daddy, crying and calling his name. She’d been about five, or six then. Her mother had slept on, no doubt passed out from alcohol or something more potent, but Rachel had stayed up all night, accepting that her daddy wasn’t coming back only when the first rays of sun indicated a new day.
She didn’t know if her father had chosen to stay out of their lives as her mother had claimed or if he had been unable to find them. Andrea and Rachel had lived in various parts of Europe since Rachel had started school. Her mother’s exploits had made the gutter press at times, but wouldn’t have been noteworthy in the States. She had been neither filthy rich, until Matthias, nor a celebrity.
Even her marriage to Matthias Demakis had only made her of interest to a few gossip rags in the States. While other students at her university had learned enough about her exploits to judge Rachel on them, that didn’t mean a man who hadn’t seen Andrea in over twenty years would recognize her in publicized photos, or even read that type of paper.
Rachel wanted to believe her father was an American man, unaware of Andrea’s recent notoriety and longtime residence in Europe. However, she had to acknowledge that he could very well be as permanently gone as Andrea.
Shaking off thoughts that led nowhere, Rachel ran tape along the box’s seam. For whatever reason, her father was lost to her and that was that. She tore the tape off and straightened, blowing at a strand of hair that had fallen from her ponytail. Emotionally detached, she surveyed the once decadent room now stripped of much of its sumptuous decor.
Sebastian had encouraged her to pack everything for the auction. He planned to redo the room in the near future, erasing Andrea’s influence on the villa as thoroughly as possible. Of course, that’s not how he’d put it. He’d been very tactful since their discussion in the study three days ago, but his feelings regarding Andrea Demakis were no secret.
Stretching tired muscles, Rachel reached toward the ceiling and then bent from one side to the other. Her muscles ached and her eyes burned with fatigue. She’d spent a lot of time on her knees packing and sorting in the past three days and had slept poorly at night, too much time given to reliving Sebastian’s kiss.
Bending forward, she touched her fingertips to the plush carpeting. Straightening, she leaned backward, doing almost a backbend, and saw a pair of trouser covered male legs.
The Greek curse that met her ears was instantly recognizable and just as startling.
Her balance gave way and she could do nothing to stop falling flat on her back, bumping her head in the process.
Sebastian dropped to his knee beside her, his gorgeous features set in concerned lines. “Are you all right, pedhaki mou?”
She couldn’t speak, her breath having been knocked right out of her. The best she could do was a series of guppy-like movements with her lips.
Strong hands gripped her shoulders and gently pulled her into a sitting position, causing a whoosh of air to make its way into her lungs.
“Thank you,” she croaked out.
He probed the back of her head with his fingertips. “Does this hurt?”
“Just a little.”
“There is no bump forming.”
“I’m all right.”
He didn’t release her, but continued checking for injuries in a way that left her trembly with want. “What were you doing?”
She felt heat blister her cheeks while she tried to control the urge to touch back. “Stretching.”
“You fell.”
“You surprised me,” she informed him in a cranky tone that made her cringe inside. “I lost my balance.”
“Ah, so it is my fault.”
She tilted her head back to see his face, unable to credit the humor in his voice, but it was reflected in his molten metal eyes. So was a warmth she would do well to pretend was not there.
“Yes.”
“Then I must do something to show my remorse at causing such a mishap.”
Her jaw locked against any word she might have uttered as his mouth came down to meet her own.
It was not a flaming kiss, had no overt passion in it, but nevertheless, her heart went wild and her body ached to align itself with his.
Thankfully, his hold on her shoulders was too strong to allow her to do it and humiliate herself in the process.
He lifted his head. “You have sweet lips, Rachel.”
She licked them, tasting only him. “Thank you.”
“So polite.” He kissed her again, this time letting his lips linger for a few seconds, letting his tongue slip out to gently mesh with her own.
He pulled back far enough to speak. “Have I made up for my transgression?”
His breath brushed her lips tantalizingly and she wanted to continue the kiss, but she forced out a choked, “Yes.”
“That is unfortunate.”
Oh, man…this guy was one-hundred percent lethal. “Y-yes, it is.”
“Maybe I should put something on account.”
She couldn’t say anything as his mouth came over hers again, but just as the kiss was turning wickedly interesting, Phillippa’s voice came from the doorway.
“Is she all right, Sebastian? What happened?”
Making a low sound of frustration, he lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. “I startled her when she was stretching and she fell.”
“I’m fine,” Rachel added, prickling with hot embarrassment at having her clumsiness revealed as well as being caught kissing him.
“Are you sure? You are still on the floor.”
Sebastian’s laughter made his chest vibrate against Rachel and she felt herself falling further under his spell. “She is still on the floor because I have not let her up yet.”
“Oh.”
There was a wealth of meaning in that little word and it seemed to disturb Sebastian because his joviality disappeared and he made quick work of getting them both back on their feet and then stepping away from her. It felt like a rejection and she wanted to remind him he’d been the one to kiss her.
However, his white shirt showed smudges and wrinkles from her dusty hands where she’d unwittingly clutched at him and she had to admit, if only to herself, that she’d been a more than willing participant.
“Aristide is here. We will have lunch and then he will take me back to the mainland.”
“You’re leaving?” Rachel asked.
“Yes. I must get back to my garden.”
“Thank you for your help with Andrea’s things.”
“It was my pleasure. You are a gentle young woman. I have been grieving my uncle’s death and you kept my mind set on the present, not the past. It is I who owe you my thanks.”
Rachel did not know how to react to the praise or the look of frowning interest Sebastian was bestowing on her. She felt like a moth in a jar and was finding it just as difficult to breathe.
“I like you,” she finally managed to get out and Phillippa smiled.
“The feeling is mutual.”
Thankfully, Sebastian said something about Rachel getting cleaned up before lunch and made it possible for her to make her escape.