Something about accepting it right after what they had done hadn’t sat well with her. She was already indebted to him, they had the strangest relationship going on and the last thing Jas wanted was to lose the little pride she had left.
And that he had left her that little note meant more to her than anything that he could have gifted her.
She fingered the diamond pendant that she had worn instead, hoping he would understand.
Every inch of her thrummed as she waited for the ceremony to be over so that she could tell him all her news. More than anything, she couldn’t wait to just hold him again.
The crowd of guests erupted into laughter then, and she turned to see Stavros pick up Leah in his arms and head for the house. She found herself smiling again.
Corded arms wrapped around her from behind. She let out a breathless little gasp as his powerful thighs straddled her, his arousal evoking that powerfully intoxicating need freely in her veins.
She felt the press of his soft lips against her neck and trembled. Long fingers instantly laced with hers, anchoring her. He felt so good and warm around her that her heart took a little tumble in her chest.
“You smell divine, moro mou. I can’t wait to taste you all over again.”
She half turned, trying to speak with a dry mouth. “Dmitri, I have something—”
“You wanted to dance the other night, didn’t you?”
Without waiting for her answer, not that she would have refused, he tugged her to the dance floor that had been erected to the side. The grounds looked like they were straight out of a fairy tale as little Moroccan lanterns illuminated the path and cast beautiful shadows everywhere. A sweet smell wafted over from the orange groves.
Dusk wasn’t far away and the party was in full swing. A little signal from Dmitri and the band instantly shifted to a slow tune instead of the peppy Greek number. In such a short time, the world suddenly seemed like a wonderful place, and she didn’t doubt that it was because of the man who seemed to entrench himself more and more in her heart.
His hands went around her and Jasmine found herself looking straight into his eyes.
Dancing with Dmitri was like eating the most deliciously decadent chocolate, except the sensations were everywhere instead of just in her mouth. His movements effortlessly elegant; he maneuvered them around the floor with a fluid grace that was far from the boy who had used his fists for survival.
Feeling light-headed even though she hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, she put her cheek on his shoulder and looked around.
Leah’s wedding list was a who’s-who of the fashion world, ranging from models to designers to fashion magazine editors. Wherever she looked on the dance floor and elsewhere, there were stunning beauties, each one more gorgeous and sophisticated than the next. But it was the list of their accomplishments that stung.
What is he doing with me? an insidious voice whispered in her mind, and she tried to tune it out.
She could feel more than one woman’s gaze slide to Dmitri surreptitiously, had seen more than one woman come on to him in the guise of polite chitchat.
Because if there was one thing she knew, it was that kind of lust, the one that only wanted the package without knowing what was beneath.
All they saw was a spectacularly gorgeous man with wealth, power and raw sexuality. I know him like none of you ever will, she thought with a fierceness she had never known before.
Her hands tightened over his shoulders before she even realized. Mine, she wanted to say in an utterly possessive way.
One muscled thigh grazing hers, Dmitri tipped her chin up. “You’re tense. Is something wrong?”
“No,” she replied, determined to not let her stupid insecurities ruin what was the most wonderful evening of her life. She would make something of herself, she promised herself. She would make him proud of her even if it took her the rest of her life.
Bolstered by it, she leaned her head on his shoulder and let his body guide her into the soft rhythm.
For a few moments, they said nothing, sinking into the sensuous silence that was filled with languorous promises. Every move reminded her of how he had moved inside her, every glance he sent her way a promise of the night to come.
“You dance like a dream,” she whispered.
Their relationship had begun in a strange place, a bed of all places, and even after two days, she couldn’t seem to look at him and not remember the erotic intimacy of what they had done.
If she looked at his mouth, her lower belly clenched as if it remembered the havoc he had wreaked on it. If she looked at his hands, her hips remembered how he had held her down for him.