She’d relayed snippets of her childhood to which he should have paid closer attention. If he had, he’d have understood what she’d tried to tell him.
Meals in the Armstrong household, from how Helena had matter-of-factly described them, had been conducted in silence unless her father wanted to start a discussion about a particular news item on which he had strong views or a book he wished to critique.
Only now did it occur to him that for Helena to contribute to those lofty discussions, she would have had to contribute in Greek, a difficult language to master for non-native speakers.
Little wonder Helena had kept the light that lived inside of her deeply hidden. To let it out would have met heavy disapproval. He remembered her telling him, also matter-of-factly, that her father had hoped to breed a scholar like himself. Archibald Armstrong had approved of architecture as a career choice for his daughter only because it had the social cache he craved. There had been a number of Archibald’s equally highbrow friends in the congregation when Theo had stood before them and merrily announced the wedding was off. Her father would have felt humiliated by his daughter’s wilful actions, but to throw her out and cut her off for it...?
How could anyone treat their own flesh and blood so abysmally?
How hard must it have been for Helena to cope? To survive?
His ruminations dissolved when he became aware of being watched.
Lifting his head from his phone—he hadn’t read a single one of the emails—he found Helena’s dark eyes fixed boldly on him.
The tiniest smile played on her lips but it was a smile that stirred his blood.
She slowly placed her hands to her breasts and cupped them.
Theo blinked, suddenly certain his imagination had gone haywire.
She undid the top button of her shirt. And then the next. And the next until, one by one, all her buttons were undone and she parted the shirt...
Her breasts strained against the plain white bra like succulent marshmallows.
All the moisture in his mouth vanished.
She got to her feet and slowly brought the sleeves down her arms and let the shirt drop to the floor.
He gulped for air.
Eyes still holding his, she put her hands behind her back. A beat later, her skirt fell to the floor. She stepped out of it with a sensuous grace that had him gulping for more air.
Then her hands went behind her back again...
The beautiful breasts sprang free, high, full, cherry-tipped... Perfect. Just like the rest of her.
She took another step towards him. Her fingers plucked the sides of her white knickers.
Was he dreaming? He could pinch himself to be sure but that might mean waking up. He did not want to wake up. If this was a dream, then he would let his fantasies live on...
The knickers slid down her creamy thighs.
A groan escaped his throat.
So much for him torturing her...
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HELENA STEPPED OUT of her knickers and took another step towards Theo. Her heartbeats were so heavy she was sure he must be able to hear them. Or see them.
He’d left her office and the whole room had spun around her like a wheel on fire. Her thoughts had been a jumble.
When he’d walked back in, her heart had pounded like a fist against her chest and knocked all the confusion out of her.
How could she think two days of being Theo’s lover would be enough?
What was to stop them carrying on with their affair?
She wasn’t the same woman she’d been three years ago. Theo had helped rip off the straitjacket of her upbringing and, unwitting though it had been, given her the courage to pursue her career without her parents’ support—without anyone’s support. He had so much nerve, such energy, such confidence... Was it any surprise she’d taken some of that energy into her own blood? He’d made her brave with her father and given her confidence in her work. What was stopping her from using that bravery and confidence for pleasure without putting a time limit to it?
What was wrong with taking things one day at a time and just enjoying and exploring the closeness of the one man who made her feel so alive? He made her feel like the most desirable woman in the world. He made her smile, made her laugh, made her want to wrap her arms around him and crush her skin against his and inhale nothing but his scent.
The feelings he evoked in her were so powerful that she didn’t want to lose them. Not yet. Not ever...
She took another step towards him, relishing the expression in his hooded eyes. His breaths were heavy through his nose. His bare chest rose up and down rapidly.
She did this to him. Just as he did it to her.
Reaching him, she stood before him and let her eyes drift over the magnificent body that Takis himself would struggle to replicate in all its beautiful glory.
Carve Theo in marble and put him on a plinth and she would worship it.
The Theo before her was flesh and bone.
Staring deep into his eyes, she put her hands to his warm face and gently stroked the developing beard and the contrasting smooth skin of his cheekbones.
His throat moved but he made no effort to touch her back.
His Greek Wedding Night Debt His Greek Wedding Night Debt, she drifted her fingers down his neck then spread her hands out on his chest, over the fine hair that covered it, rubbing her thumbs over his flat, brown nipples then moving them down to his hard abdomen, gradually lowering herself to her knees as she went.
Now placed between his legs, she looked back up into his eyes.
Not a word was exchanged. None were needed.
She undid the button of his shorts. The thick, dark hair she was greeted with revealed he’d not bothered with underwear.
In that instant she was thrown back to their original time on Sidiro when he’d
