She should stop her tongue entwining so wantonly with his, and suppress the piercing need that thrust her breasts against the solid wall of his chest.
Yet she couldn’t seem to stop. And maybe she didn’t have to stop. Maybe she just wouldn’t.
Chapter Five
A creaking door brought Kizzy sharply back to reality. Andreas tore his mouth away from hers for the second time that day. She heard bustling sounds around the kitchen door and knew they should move away from each other as quickly as possible. Yet she was frozen to the spot like a rabbit in headlights.
Her voice was barely a whisper over the frantic pounding of her heart.
“It’s Dorinda!”
“So what do you feel now?” Andreas’s dark, velvety voice seemed to ripple up and down her spine. “Angry? Tired?”
She did not reply but drew a slow breath instead, steadying herself against the emotions raging inside. Part of her was beginning to believe that Andreas could see right through her, right to the gauche creature that was too eager to please, too hungry, too needy for human closeness.
“Say it, Kizzy,” he said, pulling the flat softness of her belly against the unmistakable ridge of his arousal. He lightly touched his tongue against the corner of her mouth and saw her eyelids flutter with excitement. “Admit that you want me.”
Kizzy felt delirious. Heated sensations were racing from her mouth to her breasts, to the apex of her thighs. Yet even in the sexual maelstrom consuming her body, her brain still registered that Dorinda was perilously close.
Instinctively, she tried to push him away—without success.
“Tell me,” he said, and skimmed his thumb across the rough lace of her bra cup. “I won’t let you go until you tell me how you are feeling.”
The effect he was having on her, and the tide of emotion threatening to overwhelm her, were like nothing she had ever experienced before.
Her body thrummed with sexual heat. She felt intoxicated. He could do with her as he wished and she knew she would be glad and greedy, burning for his slightest touch.
Her body had almost dissolved on contact with his. Caught in a primitive female state, she struggled against an unbearable current of need. Rendered shameless and wanton, all she could think of was how she craved the firm invasion of his rigid flesh inside her.
But deep down she knew it was impossible. Not with this man. Not with her new boss, of all people.
“Andreas, no.” Her chin dropped as she felt him draw back with a shuddering breath. “I feel very confused.”
He studied her anxious face for a moment as he let his hands fall, and then a shutter seemed to close behind his eyes. He turned to beckon an awkward-looking Dorinda out of the shadows.
“Confused? Poor Kizzy.” He led her by the elbow back to her seat, seemingly oblivious to her flushed features and trembling awareness. “You must be very hungry by now, I’m sure.”
He gestured for her to sit down as if nothing had just happened, though he deliberately brushed the back of her neck with his fingertips. A reminder that their business was unfinished, perhaps.
…
As Dorinda served them flatbreads, tzatziki and olives, Andreas took great interest in being able to observe Kizzy in the presence of a third party. Apart from the thirty seconds with Stephanos aboard the yacht, she had been able to avert her gaze, walk away, and snub him continuously. Right now she was trapped by her own sense of propriety, by good old-fashioned manners.
Watching the two women together, he noted how Dorinda was smiling. The elderly housekeeper approved.
He found that interesting. Dorinda had an innate instinct about whether a person was eligible to be welcomed into the realm of Lazarides. She was as protective as a mother hen when it came to her employer.
Yet each time Kizzy glanced down at her meal, Dorinda shot him a hard look, her eyes bright and her lips set in a line of pure granite.
Kizzy was the first woman he had brought to Villa Madeline, a significant enough act by itself. But now, seeing her hard expression, he was convinced that Dorinda had seen them kissing in the shade of the ancient fig tree.
A kiss meant they were as good as married in her eyes!
For some reason the potential storm brewing did not dampen his upbeat mood. The blood was surging in his veins for the first time in years. He found the sensation exhilarating.
So Dorinda thought Kizzy was his lover?
That could work to his advantage. Admittedly, he would be damned for his morals at some stage, he knew that, but at least it would mean they would not be disturbed tonight. His housekeeper knew when to make herself scarce, of that he was sure. The villa had always been a sanctuary, a place of extraordinary peace amongst the village hubbub, and now—now there was a refreshingly new and vibrant edge to it.
Kizzy Dean bore a halo of intrigue around her, he mused, a shimmering illusion of innocence and vulnerability.
Well, he was going to break that halo, Andreas decided. He would have her writhing in his bed tonight, get this powerful desire to possess her out of his system by morning. Then maybe his life could return to some kind of normality.
“You called me Andreas,” he said, watching Dorinda disappear back into the kitchen. “Twice.”
Kizzy blushed violently. “I’m sorry about that, Mr.—”
“Don’t apologize, I like it better that way.” He breathed in slowly, acutely aware of her discomfort as she fiddled with her fork. “We were being a little too intimate for such formality, don’t you think?”
He wished she would look him in the eye.
“And you can relax without Dorinda here.” He leaned across the table toward her. “We can talk quite freely now.”
“That’s good,” Kizzy replied with a slight catch to her voice. Their eyes locked once more. “I think it would be appropriate to have a working supper, don’t you? I’ll be out from under your feet by tomorrow and I don’t want to impose any more than necessary.”
“I seem to recall we were having a most interesting discussion before Dorinda interrupted us, and it had very little to do with work or you being under my feet.”
Kizzy cleared her throat and did her best to ignore the unmistakably sexual tone that persisted in his voice. “I think it would be useful to discuss what possible role I could have in your business, don’t you?”
“But I don’t know what you’re capable of,” he replied with a teasing spark in his eye. “I’ve never seen you at work, so how can I possibly make an informed decision?”