The Greek Children's Doctor Page 15

  His hands slid smoothly over her heated flesh, removing the final barrier, and finally she was naked, spread beneath him on the cool, white sheets.

  Breathing harshly, he bent his head and teased her nipple, flicking gently with his tongue and then drawing her into the heat of his mouth. Tortured by an almost intolerable excitement, she gasped and stretched her arms above her head, writhing frantically in an attempt to free her body of the sexual need that threatened to consume her.

  Refusing to give her the release she craved, he continued to torment her, his strong hand stroking her stomach lightly as he used his mouth on her breasts.

  She shifted her hips, aware of his hand resting on her stomach and wanting it lower…

  Finally, finally when she thought she was going to explode with frustration he moved his hand and found the moist, warm centre of her longing.

  Feeling him touching her so intimately, she lowered her arms and slid them down his smooth, muscled back, pushing impatiently at his shorts, wanting him naked.

  With a smooth movement he dispensed with the rest of his clothes and she gasped in anticipation as he moved above her.

  ‘Look at me, Libby.’ His hoarse command penetrated her dazed brain and her eyes locked onto his, registering the raw need she saw there.

  The eye contact just increased the closeness and intimacy of what they were sharing and when she felt him, hard and strong against the damp heat of her femininity, she wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling him with every centimetre of her quivering body.

  He entered her with a smooth, demanding thrust that left her in no doubt of just how much he wanted her and she lifted her hips, encouraging him to thrust deeper still, until there was no knowing where he ended and she began.

  He possessed her fully, mind and body, his eyes burning into hers as he thrust in a pagan rhythm that had her gasping and digging her nails into the powerful muscles of his shoulders.

  It was the ultimate in sexual excitement, a connection so strong that she felt as though they’d be joined for ever, and she wrapped her legs around him, rocking, giving as much as he took.

  Neither of them spoke, but the air was filled with the sensual sounds of their love-making. A soft gasp, a harsh groan and ragged, uneven breathing as his body increased the rhythm, creating an agony of excitement that propelled her towards completion.

  She couldn’t look away from him. Even when her body exploded in a shattering climax that seemed endless, her eyes were locked on his, drawing him in, feeling him deep inside her both physically and mentally.

  And even then he didn’t release her. He just slowed the pace, thrusting deeply, building the heat again until she was writhing against him, desperate for the faster, pounding rhythm that would propel her upwards again, towards the mindless ecstasy that she craved.

  Finally, when she thought she couldn’t stand the sexual torment any longer, he shifted his weight, still staring deep into her eyes as he gave them both the exquisite satisfaction that their bodies demanded.

  This time when she peaked she felt his body shudder within hers and felt the pulsing strength of him deep inside her. Her fingers tightened on his arms and she cried out his name, clinging to him in desperation as she tumbled headlong into paradise.

  Gradually their breathing slowed and he rolled onto his back, holding her firmly against him, giving her no opportunity to distance herself.

  She lay still in his arms, shocked by the explosion of pleasure that had rocked her entire body. Then she turned and gave him a weak smile. ‘I thought you said that you shouldn’t exercise when you’ve just eaten?’

  He bent his head and kissed her. ‘That,’ he said slowly, ‘depends on the exercise.’

  Libby stayed with her head on his chest, feeling the roughness of his body hair against her cheek and the steady thud of his heart. His wonderfully male smell teased her nostrils and she closed her eyes, not wanting the moment to end.

  It just felt so perfect.

  But it wasn’t. Nothing could be that perfect.

  ‘I better get some clothes on—’

  ‘No. This time you’re not going anywhere.’ He rolled her underneath him and stroked her damp hair away from her face. ‘Having communicated honestly through body language, this is the part where you speak and admit that you have feelings for me.’

  Achingly aware of the weight of his body touching every part of her, she caught her breath. ‘Feelings?’

  ‘That’s right.’ He gave a lazy smile and shifted slightly.

  ‘What makes you think I have feelings?’ She gasped as she felt him against her. ‘It was just sex, Andreas.’

  He chuckled and bent his head to kiss her again. ‘Ah. Back to ‘‘just sex’’ again. Tell me, Lib, how many times have you had sex like that before?’

  ‘Oh, you know—once or twice…’ She licked dry lips and tried to look casual but it was pretty hard because he was still lying on top of her and she could feel the hard muscle of his thigh wedged against hers.

  He rested his forehead against hers, intensifying the contact between them. ‘You’re lying, agape mou. You’ve never had sex like that before.’

  ‘You are so arrogant—’

  ‘And the reason I know that,’ he said, ignoring her interruption, ‘is because I haven’t either. Something happens between you and I, Libby, and it’s special. Unique to us. Just ours.’

  Just ours.

  He was doing it again. Making it sound special.

  She struggled to catch her breath. ‘That’s rubbish.’

  ‘Is it?’ He shifted slightly so that not one single inch of her body was left untouched by his. ‘If it’s rubbish, why did you run out on me the night of the ball?’

  ‘The evening was over.’ The hair on Andreas’s chest teased her sensitised nipples and she struggled to concentrate as her body responded to the lightest of touches.

  ‘You always desert your partner without saying goodbye?’ He moved against her and she gasped, realising that he knew exactly what he was doing. ‘No, Libby. You ran that night because what we shared was so frighteningly good—so intense—that you were scared witless. You panicked.’

  She was writhing under him now, her body arching in an effort to ease the intolerable ache in her pelvis.

  ‘Andreas…’

  He gave a low growl and raked a hand through her blonde hair. ‘Tell me how you feel, Libby. Tell me.’

  She stared up at him, lost in the expression in his dark eyes, her whole body feverish and quivering. She just felt so hot. ‘I want you…’

  He gave a groan of frustration and bent his head to capture her mouth. ‘Admit that it’s not just sex.’

  Desperate for him, she gasped and arched against him. ‘Andreas, please…’

  ‘No.’ His voice was a low growl. ‘Not until you admit the way you feel.’

  Libby whimpered. ‘Do you want me to hit you?’

  ‘Admit it.’

  ‘Andreas…’

  ‘I love you, Libby.’ He spoke the words softly and her breathing and heart stopped simultaneously.

  He loved her?

  Afraid she’d misheard him, she lay utterly still and he gave a sigh and shifted slightly so that he could look at her.

  ‘Did you hear me?’

  She nodded slowly and he gave a wry smile.

  ‘So this is the point when you tell me that you love me, too.’

  Libby felt a rush of panic. She didn’t love him. She didn’t want to love him. It was asking for trouble. He’d hurt her…

  ‘It’s just sex, Andreas. Good sex, admittedly, but just sex.’

  He gave a frustrated grunt. ‘You’re lying and if I have to pin you to this bed for the rest of your life I’m going to make you admit the truth.’ His dark eyes were unbelievably gentle. ‘The sex is good because we love each other, Libby. Why don’t you just admit that you’ve never felt this way about a man before and that you’re scared?’

  Libby’s heart was thumping so hard
she could hardly breathe. ‘All right. I’ve never felt like this about a man before and I’m scared,’ she parroted, and he sighed.

  ‘Relationships don’t have to go wrong, Libby. I know you’ve seen some bad examples, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t good examples out there, too. My parents were happily married for forty years. Why won’t you just trust me?’

  She bit her lip. ‘Because it’s been too quick, too good to be true, and because I don’t believe that fairy-tales always have happy endings,’

  ‘Then you’d better prepare yourself for a shock,’ he said softly, lowering his head to kiss her gently, ‘because this particular fairy-tale is going to have the best ending you can possibly imagine.’

  Chapter 9

  Andreas sat on the shaded terrace and sipped his coffee.

  It was already midmorning and there was no sign of Libby. But remembering just how little sleep he’d allowed her the night before, he decided that it was hardly surprising.

  By contrast, he’d been up since dawn, wading through the mountains of family paperwork that always accumulated in his absence.

  He’d just signed the last of the papers when he glanced up and saw her standing in the doorway that led to the terrace, wearing a pair of white shorts and a light blue top.

  His eyes dropped to her legs and his body reacted in a surge of sexual hunger that took him by surprise. They’d made love for most of yesterday and all of last night and he still wanted her.

  But she still hadn’t said that she loved him.

  ‘I’m sorry I slept so late.’ She looked extremely self-conscious and Andreas sucked in a breath and ditched the papers he’d been reading, his concentration gone.

  There was only one thing he thought of when he looked at Libby, and it certainly wasn’t business.

  ‘I’m glad you slept well.’ His voice sounded husky and he wondered if she had any idea of the effect she had on him. Probably not or she wouldn’t have worn those shorts. ‘Come here.’

  She walked towards him and he dragged her onto his lap, stroking her hair away from her face and kissing her urgently.

  ‘I love you.’ He groaned the words against her mouth and she pulled away, her blue eyes wary and more than a little frightened.

  ‘Stop saying that.’

  ‘It’s the truth. And you love me, too.’

  Perhaps if he said the words often enough, eventually she’d find the courage to say them herself.

  She slid off his lap and he saw the confusion in her eyes. ‘Andreas…’

  ‘Trust me, Libby.’

  ‘Let’s go to the beach.’

  Andreas suppressed a sigh, wondering what it would take to break through the wall of self-protection that she’d built around herself.

  They spent the days swimming and talking and making love, and the time passed too quickly for Libby. She could have stayed there for ever, locked in the tiny world they’d created, safe from outside influences.

  There was something magical about the villa and the bay.

  Something unreal.

  It felt so far away from their real lives.

  It was as if anything could happen here, but once they returned home life would just return to normal.

  She was lying on a sun lounger with her eyes closed, trying to catch up on some lost sleep, when she felt the familiar tug in her stomach.

  Her heart lurched.

  Not wanting to believe the messages that her body was sending, she rushed to her room to discover that her period had started.

  She’d been so wrapped up in the emotional high of being with Andreas that she’d temporarily forgotten that she might be pregnant.

  Swamped by a feeling of desolation that she couldn’t comprehend, she went to the bathroom and burst into tears, sobbing against the tiled wall until her head started to ache.

  She tried to analyse why she was crying but her head was pounding too hard to allow her access to her thoughts.

  Surely she should have been relieved that she wasn’t pregnant?

  Why did she feel so utterly devastated?

  She didn’t even know that Andreas had followed her until she felt herself gathered against his hard chest.

  For several minutes she just sobbed without speaking and then she took the tissue he handed her and blew her nose hard.

  ‘Why are you crying?’

  She shook her head and scrunched the tissue into a ball, too upset to speak.

  ‘Libby.’ His tone was urgent and he put her away from him and cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ she hiccoughed. ‘It’s my problem, not yours.’

  His face darkened and his fingers bit into her scalp. ‘If this is what I think it is, then it’s very much my problem, too. Only actually I don’t see it as a problem.’

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. He’d misunderstood, and who could blame him? ‘Just drop it Andreas—please…’

  She needed some time on her own. Time to pull herself together. She was being ridiculous.

  ‘I thought I’d made it clear that I’m very traditional when it comes to certain things,’ he said softly, showing no signs of releasing her. ‘Tell me why you’re crying, because if you’re afraid that I won’t want you now you’re pregnant, you couldn’t be more wrong.’

  Libby pulled away from him and scrubbed the palm of her hand over her cheeks to get rid of the tears.

  ‘I’m not crying because I’m pregnant,’ she gulped finally, her voice jumpy from too much crying. ‘I’m crying because I’m not pregnant. OK?’

  She gave a massive sniff, aware that Andreas was unusually still.

  ‘You’re not pregnant?’

  Just hearing the words upset her again and her face crumpled. ‘That’s right—I’m not pregnant. And now will you leave me alone?’

  She turned away from him but he reached out and grabbed her, hauling her round so that she was facing him, his fingers biting into her upper arms.

  ‘If you’re not pregnant, Libby, why are you crying?’

  She tried to glare at him but instead her face crumpled again and she gave another sob. ‘Because I wanted to be pregnant, you dummy! I wanted your baby.’ She was vaguely aware that she was shouting but she didn’t even care. ‘Which just goes to show how stupid I can be.’

  Andreas stared at her, his dark gaze strangely intent. ‘And why did you want my baby, Libby?’ His voice was hoarse and she tried to focus on him through watery eyes.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she muttered, and his fingers tightened on her arms.

  ‘Yes, you do. Why, Libby?’

  She hiccoughed slightly. ‘Because you’re very good-looking and I thought we’d make cute babies?’

  He lifted an eyebrow and his firm mouth quirked slightly. ‘So you selected me as a prime example of male genetic perfection?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  He looked at her. ‘Come on, Libby,’ he urged softly, ‘be honest with me. Be honest with yourself for once.’

  Heart racing, she spread her hands and glared at him. ‘All right, I love you,’ she shouted. ‘I love you heaps and tons. And it’s terrifying because I know that it won’t last because it never does. And finding out that I’m not pregnant is horrible. I didn’t even know I wanted to be pregnant until five minutes ago when I found out that I wasn’t. How illogical is that?’

  ‘It’s the best news I’ve ever had,’ he groaned, dragging her against him. ‘I was beginning to think that I’d never get you to admit how you feel.’

  Libby stared up at him, her lower lip wobbling. ‘I wanted to be pregnant.’

  He gave a slow smile. ‘I’ll make you pregnant,’ he promised, lowering his head to kiss her. ‘As many times as you like. I adore children, you know that. I’d given up ever finding a woman who felt the same way.’

  Libby blinked, still very unsure.

  Andreas wanted children?

  He wanted to have children with her?


  ‘But you wanted me to take the morning-after pill.’

  Andreas curved a strong hand round her cheek, staring down into her eyes as he shook his head. ‘No. That was the last thing I wanted.’

  She stared at him, wide-eyed. ‘So why did you suggest it?’

  ‘Because you were panicking enough at the thought of us being a couple, without me admitting how much I wanted to have children with you,’ Andreas said quietly. ‘If you had wanted to take the pill, I would have supported you, but I was immensely relieved that you decided not to.’

  She was still reeling from the shock of finally admitting that she was in love with him. She’d been fighting it for so long she hadn’t even admitted it to herself.

  She looked at him, her heart thudding. ‘So is this the bit where we live happily ever after?’

  ‘I think it probably is,’ he agreed, stroking the tears away from her cheek with gentle fingers, ‘although the final scene isn’t usually played out in a bathroom with the bride-to-be looking traumatised. Wash your face or I’ll have to tell our children that I proposed to their mother when she had a red nose.’

  She sniffed. ‘You’re proposing?’

  ‘Not here,’ he said dryly. ‘I’m going to wait for more romantic surroundings. Wash your face and then join me on the terrace and I’ll do it properly.’

  Her insides fluttering with excitement, Libby waited for him to go and then tried to concentrate on removing the evidence of hysterical crying.

  Did Andreas truly want to marry her?

  The thought of spending the rest of her life with him made her feel giddy with happiness.

  How could she ever have thought that she didn’t love him?

  How could she have fooled herself for so long?

  She adored him.

  And he was about to propose to her. And she knew exactly what her answer was going to be.

  Smiling, she wandered back into the bedroom and opened one of the drawers, looking for a tissue.

  And then she saw the letter.

  She probably wouldn’t have looked twice at it if it hadn’t been for the fact that the bold handwriting seemed to leap from the page and the first four words penetrated her brain like a sharpened knife.