Modern Romance September 2018 Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит
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friendly gene, Xan decided, only becoming perversely annoyed when Elvi disappeared off to see his mother’s latest craft project, which he knew would be an absolute disaster. Ariadne Ziakis might be the acclaimed author of several very weighty archaeology tomes and a professor in her university department, but she was not talented with her hands.
‘I was doing the stitch wrong!’ his mother proclaimed when she returned to the table to drink her coffee. ‘And this wonderful girl showed me how to do it and it was so easy when you know how...’
Ne...yes, Elvi went down with the family like award-winning chocolate.
Tobias, always timid, confided in Elvi about his latest relationship breakdown, when he could barely bring himself to acknowledge that he was gay to Xan’s face. Lukas pontificated happily about worldly indifference to the suffering of refugees and revealed that he had met the woman he hoped to marry. One sister revealed that she was pregnant again, another admitted to a serious boyfriend. Xan watched in silent astonishment while his family opened up to Elvi in a way they never did with him. Delphina related the entire story of her humdrum relationship with Takis in the kind of detail that would send most people to sleep, but Elvi listened as if she were hearing the most romantic story she had ever heard.
Maybe she genuinely did think that sort of stuff was romantic, Xan reflected in awe as not even a giggle escaped Elvi when she heard about Takis’s marriage proposal: harbour restaurant, family party, roses at the table, bended knee, so conventional Xan’s teeth hurt with saccharine overload just listening. Elvi was nice, he decided, in the most flexible interpretation of that overused word. People blossomed around her, drawn by her sincere interest, warmed by her kind and optimistic outlook on life. She was the absolute antithesis of him, Xan decided.
‘She’s adorable. Put a ring on her finger fast,’ his mother urged as she said goodnight to him.
‘She’s far too kind and caring for you,’ his eldest sister, the engineer, opined. ‘You’ll probably make her miserable.’
‘Oh, I just love Elvi.’ Delphina sighed blissfully, very much the lovestruck bride the night before her wedding.
‘Elvi would make a good wife,’ Lukas, the priest, told him staunchly. ‘She’s a godly woman.’
‘She’s a pet,’ Tobias pronounced with starry eyes as Xan identified Elvi by his mother’s side, down on her knees petting the scruffy dogs. ‘Such a good listener.’
Chilled by that amount of family enthusiasm, Xan accepted the accolades without comment and reclaimed Elvi from the pet contingent with difficulty. On the upper landing, she paused to study a portrait. ‘Is that your father?’
‘Yes,’ Xan confirmed, his attention locked to her rather than the painting. Her dress exposed her slender spine, where he already knew the soft, smooth skin felt like silk, and the fine fabric below her waist outlined the ripe, rounded swell of her bottom. His libido kicked in with lusty fervour and he coiled his hands into fists of restraint. Everything was going to be different this time, he assured himself. There would be no grabbing, no rushing, no cutting of sexual corners.
‘When did he die?’ she asked, still looking at the canvas.
‘Nine years ago.’
‘You do look very like him,’ Elvi conceded as she moved on, her heart skipping a beat as Xan closed his hand over hers, engulfing her smaller fingers.
‘Thankfully that resemblance is all we shared.’ Xan thrust wide the door of his bedroom and she brushed against him, her face turning up, her eyes blindingly blue and bright above her soft full mouth, and that view cut through his self-discipline like a knife through butter.
Xan ran his fingertips lightly down the bare line of her spine and she trembled, suddenly fiercely aware of him, her body involuntarily awakening to his touch. He edged her back against the wall and stroked her hair back from her flushed face. ‘Now tell me that you want me...’
Elvi dealt him a stubborn glance because only the champagne during the flight had forced that admission from her. ‘You don’t need the ego boost.’
‘Why are you still fighting something so natural?’ Xan demanded, as if she was being thoroughly unreasonable.
‘It’s not natural to me,’ Elvi argued, struggling not to melt into the lean, powerful contours of his body as he penned her in by the wall. He was so warm and he smelt amazing, her nostrils flaring on the familiar scent of him. Her nipples prickled, swelling and tightening, and an edgy pulse beat between her thighs.
Xan could not credit how stubborn she could be. He could not fathom how a woman so seemingly soft and warm and eager to please those around her could then be so resistant when it came to pleasing him. ‘You’re only making this harder for yourself.’
Elvi was so tense as she fought her arousal that she was barely breathing, her small body stiff. ‘I don’t think so. This is who I am. If I changed that, I couldn’t respect myself any longer.’
‘Only you would care to think about such things,’ Xan intoned thickly. ‘This close to you, I can only think about how much I want you—’
He pushed closer, pressing her back against the wall, and even through their clothes she could feel the hard, insistent length of him against her stomach. A jolt of hungry need took her by storm, drying her mouth, stealing her breath, sending her heart hammering. ‘Xan...’ she heard herself whisper almost pleadingly.
‘Powerful, isn’t it?’ Xan husked, his hands bracing on either side of her head, his eyes a hot scorching gold enhanced by lush black lashes. ‘So powerful you can’t think of anything else.’
‘You’re teasing me,’ Elvi said breathlessly, her fingers splaying across his shirt front, the heat of his muscled chest encouraging her hand to flex and the fingers to spread in something very like a caress.
Xan pulled her hand down to where he really needed her attention and her fingers traced his bold length through the fabric of his trousers, her shy fascination powerfully erotic. He wanted to rip off his clothes there and then and teach her everything she didn’t know and, gripped by that image, he shed his jacket where he stood and yanked off his tie, unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, unzipping with the other.
It was as though Elvi’s heartbeat had extended to thump through her entire body. She felt giddy, overexcited despite her nerves. Recognising Xan’s feverish eagerness for her touch removed her fear of doing the wrong thing. That he could crave her caresses as much as she craved his was a revelation and a tremendous equaliser. She pushed down his boxers and found him, she glided her fingers up and down before she got down on her knees. He shuddered as she found him with her mouth and he arched his hips, groaning something hoarse in Greek. She swirled her tongue, tantalising, teasing while she stroked and cupped and savoured him. His hand tightened in her hair and then he yanked her back up to him, kissing her as though his life depended on that connection.
He cannoned off the corner of a dresser as he hauled her bodily over to the bed, stood her up, struggling with the backless dress and its complicated closure. There was a ripping sound as he simply lost patience and tore the fragile fabric down the middle. She looked up at him in shock.
‘I can’t wait...’ Xan confided fiercely, flipping her round to unfasten the bra that anchored at her waist. ‘What a strange contraption,’ he muttered, his hands rising to mould the full swell of her breasts, tugging at her straining nipples and then ravishing her mouth with his again, his tongue plunging deep, extracting a startled cry of urgency from her.
They landed on the bed with a bounce and she had no idea how they had got there from the door. Xan ripped off his shirt and flung it aside, yanking off what remained of his clothing at the same time, his impatience unconcealed. He crawled up the bed like a lethal predator, golden eyes ablaze as he repositioned her to his satisfaction.
‘No, not this time,’ he censured when she tried to inch beneath the sheet. ‘No barriers, no boundaries, moli mou. You’re a work of art and I want to look at you.’