“I’ve been thinking,” she said as she approached, her smile truly breathtaking.

“Have you?” He waited for her to continue; Saphire came to stand before him and put her hands on his chest. He loved the way that felt; she connected to his heart and his core.

“I don’t want to know the rest of your name. I like Mr Konstanides. Or, I was thinking, MK for short.”

He arched a brow. “Why? Would knowing my name offend you?”

The slightest hint of color marked her face. “No, not at all. But this is just one of those temporary things,” she said with an attempt at careless whimsy. “Knowing your name makes it weird. Not knowing makes it … crazy.”

His silence was a weight, urging her to continue.

She sighed. “I can just say, one day, when I’m old and grey, that I met this beautiful, sexy stranger. My grandkids will say, ‘That’s so romantic! What was his name?’ and I’ll laugh and say, ‘I don’t really know.’”

Thad grinned. “You have grandkids?”

“I might. One day.” Her smile was lopsided. Jordan and she had agreed on having children. They were waiting a year or two, but Saphire had always known she wanted kids.

She wasn’t wearing a bra. He could see the outline of her breasts through her shirt; he regretted having given her something white to wear. It was way too distracting. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “Breakfast is this way,” he waved towards a table on the corner of the expansive balcony. Saphire hadn’t noticed it.

“Did you book out this area for our private use?” She queried as she moved with unconscious grace towards the setting.

He pulled a chair backwards for her. “I have a confession to make.”

“You didn’t want to know my name either?” She teased, for he’d already referred to her as Saphire. As she sat, he placed a kiss on the top of her head. It was a gesture of such familiar affection that her heart flipped achingly in her chest

“I love knowing your name,” he corrected.

He settled himself opposite her, his dark eyes gleaming with curiosity as they scanned her face. How would she react? What would she make of his statement? “This isn’t a hotel.”

But Saphire had always been quick. Only the several glasses of alcohol she’d imbibed on the flight had impaired her from putting two and two together. “You’re the Konstanides, aren’t you?”

Her eyes were the most stunning shade of blue. He’d never met anyone with such gem-stone like irises.

“The airline. The plane. That’s you.”

He nodded. “Guilty as charged.”

She expelled a slow breath and cast a speculative glance around the balcony. It was enormous, with large potted palms, shining white marble furniture and a never-ending view of the ocean sparkled beneath them. “This isn’t Athens,” she said again, and now the impression of having been on a boat came to her more sharply. She scraped her chair back and glided towards the railing. Beneath them, cutting a dark brown line in the middle of the water, was a pontoon. A luxury speedboat was tethered to it.

“I thought I had dreamed the boat part,” she said, turning around.

His eyes were darkly watchful, as though he was weighing her up.

“Where are we?” She continued, not bothered that he hadn’t spoken. After all, she didn’t need him to confirm her statements. They were facts, clicking into place effortlessly in the morning’s radiant sunlight.

“L’isola Ourano,” he said the words in such a way that spice and magic wrapped around her soul. She couldn’t help but smile.

“You kidnapped me,” she murmured, but her smile was belying the seriousness of the words.

“Yes,” he shrugged. “Or saved you.”

“Saved me?” She moved back towards the table, but instead of going to her seat, she went to him. He was a magnet and she his perfect polar opposite. “How do you figure?”

She was close enough that he could smell her sweet fragrance; like coconuts and vanilla. He lifted a hand to her hip and almost groaned at how good it felt just to touch her.

“The state you were in? If I’d left you at the airport, I doubt you’d have made it to the city in one piece.”

She dipped her eyes forward, shame at how drunken she’d become assailing her out of nowhere. Strange that she should feel guilt and remorse over that, but nothing at all when it came to her willingness to cheat on her husband. Then again, Jordan had really established the precedent there.

“How very chivalrous of you,” she observed with a hint of sarcasm.

He made a noise of assent. “I’m quite the gentleman, I think you’ll find.” He pulled at her waist a little, so that she fell forward, onto his lap.

“And tell me, MK, do you make a habit of bringing very, very drunken women to your island paradise?”

A frown pulled at his lips. He had only come to the island a handful of times in the last fifteen years, since he’d argued with Aristotle and stormed away in a puff of adolescent fury. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re like some kind of Greek James Bond,” she laughed. “With all of these perfect seduction tricks up your sleeve.”

“Really?” He murmured. She was so alive in his arms; so gorgeous and willing.

“Really,” she nodded. Her eyes were suddenly guarded as she turned to study him carefully. “I have to tell you something.”

There was a gravity in her statement that had him instantly on the alert. He lifted a grape from his plate and traced it around her lips, and then bit on it. “Go ahead.”

She shielded those spectacular eyes from his face. “I’m way, way out of my depth with you.”

His laugh was soft. “Why do you say that?”

She swallowed. “I’ve never done anything like this.”

“You said that last night. And again this morning,” he murmured, lifting another grape to her lips. This time, he pushed it inside, watching as she chewed its plump sweetness.

“Did I?” She swallowed. “Oh, right. Did I say … anything else? Last night, I mean.”

“Such as why you were pounding back champagne as though it could obliterate all memory and sense?”

She grimaced. “Something like that.”

“No.” He stroked her cheek. “You did not. But I presumed you were running from something.”

Her breathing had quickened. “Is that a problem?”

He pretended to think about it. “That depends. Am I hiding a fugitive? Did you rob a bank? Steal a car? Shoot someone?”

She burst out laughing. “None of the above.”

“Good. Then I don’t care what you are running from.” He lifted his lips to hers and tasted them briefly. “I care only that you are here.”

Her heart turned over in her chest, squeezing painfully. “It’s nothing that a bit of time won’t fix,” she said, frowning so that a little line formed between her brows.

“And if we are to stop you turning into a full-blown alcoholic, we shall have to think of other ways for you to relieve your worries, no?”

It was a thinly veiled promise and she ached to fulfill it. She squirmed a little on his lap, wriggling closer to him. “I’d like that.” The admission was a sultry whisper.

“Me too.” He lifted a hand and brushed it over her hair. “You need to eat first. And then you need to rest.”

She pouted with assumed disappointment. “Why?”

His laugh sent shivers tilting down her back. “I might have kidnapped you, but I’ll have you know I am a very kind captor. I want my hostage to have her strength restored fully before we begin … getting to know one another better.”

Even that innocuous statement sent her pulse skyrocketing. It was the promise of what would come. It flooded her system with anticipation and need.

There was a part of Saphire’s brain that wanted to ask questions. She wanted to know how long this would last? How long was he on the island for? Did he want her for a night? Or more?

And how long would it take to erase the pain of her husband’s infidelity? How many times would she sleep with Mr Konstanides before the betrayal began to sting less?

He lifted a piece of watermelon and placed it against her lips. She bit the top off the triangle and chewed it gratefully. It tasted like sugar and sunshine; it was the perfect antidote for the headache she’d been grappling with.

“Delicious,” she murmured.

“They grow wild over the cliff,” he said, nodding a little way down the shoreline. “So many that they can’t possibly all get picked each year. The ones that are left crack with age and sunshine and leave their juice and seeds on the rocks. The next year, they spawn more vines, and then more, and so now they are almost a pest.”

His words rambled through her consciousness like those vines on the sun-warmed rocks. “I could eat nothing but watermelon,” she said after a moment. “And coffee.”

“Ah.” He leaned forward and lifted a pot from the middle of the table. He poured out two measures of a thick, black liquid and then slid a cup nearer to her.

“You don’t mind that I’m using you as furniture?” She asked after she’d let the first sip work down her throat and begin to spread life back into her body.

“Mind? I think, Saphire Arana, I’d mind more if you didn’t. Perhaps while you are here you could sit on me always.”

She laughed. And because the question was burning at the edges of her brain, she bit down on her lip and gathered her courage. “This is a slice of heaven,” she said honestly. “But it’s also a slice out of life.” She furrowed her brow. “It’s strange to think that reality is out there, waiting for me to get back to it.”

His sharp sense of disappointment caught him off-guard. “When?” He didn’t bother softening the question with false disinterest.

She expelled a soft breath. “I haven’t thought that far ahead,” she said honestly, and Thad instantly relaxed.

“Good. So that settles it. You don’t think about it. Not while you are here. You are running from something. Let this be the place you have run to.”

It was the last thing a man like him would generally offer. Losing Aristotle had weakened him. No, it had knocked him side-ways, completely out of his regular groove of life. He was floundering. Floating. In free-fall.

He didn’t care. Thaddeus Konstanides trusted his instincts and in that moment every fiber of his being was telling him that he had to keep this beautiful woman close.

“Do you know what’s really weird about this?” She said, so quietly he hardly heard.

“What?”

“I feel like … I feel like I’ve known you forever. I don’t feel awkward or strange. I thought I would.”

He scanned her face. Her words perfectly echoed his own impression. It gave him a moment’s pause.

“Anyway,” she shrugged, perhaps a little awkward to have revealed so much. “Let’s just see how today goes, hmm? We might discover we have no … chemistry.”

He laughed, and dropped his head to her shoulder. “Not possible. You forget, dear Saphire, that I have already seen how perfectly your body responds to mine. Do not make the mistake of thinking that I do not wish to control every tiny part of you. Were I not attempting to be considerate of your sore head, I would be making love to you against these sun-warmed tiles right now.”

His words instantly aroused her, as they’d been designed to do. “My head’s not that bad,” she promised, spinning a little more so that she was closer to his arousal.

“I don’t want ‘not bad’,” he groaned. “I want you at your best when I move within you.”

Did he? Saphire wasn’t prone to doubt, but having just seen proof of her husband’s lack of interest in her, she felt her confidence to be at its lowest ebb. And suddenly, she doubted she had anything to offer a man like Thaddeus Konstanides. Was he already regretting bringing her to the island? Was he trying to send a subtle cue to her that she should leave?

She couldn’t handle the anxiety. She was one step away from a complete breakdown. “I came here with you because I wanted to sleep with you,” she said, completely bowled over by the bold declaration. “I don’t want to eat fruit with you. I want to sleep with you. Now.”

His eyes were wide. He stood, dislodging her from his lap, and he pushed her against the wall in one movement. It was gentle, but firm. He physically dominated her, but his eyes were studying her face with apparent concern.

“You do not know what you are talking about,” he ground out, pinning her to the warm marble with his hard body. “You want me to have sex with you? You say it as though you have a disease that only sex can cure. You say it like you doubt it will happen.” His eyes flashed with an emotion she didn’t recognise. “Let me tell you why I am giving you some time to recover.”

He gripped her hand and dragged it towards his pants. He pulled them down easily and wrapped her fingers around his arousal. She let out a small moan as she felt his hot virility in her palm.

“When I take possession of you, I am going to do it so often and so well that you will forget your own name. I am going to torture you with pleasure. I am going to move inside you until you are incoherent with delight. I am going to suck on your breasts and lick you all over; I am going to make you breathless, and then I am going to let you sleep just long enough to recover, then I am going to wake you up by thrusting into you. You say you came here for sex? Believe me, Saphire, that’s going to happen.”

She swallowed. Her throat was thick. “I know what you’re trying to do,” she said after a minute. The words were zinging around her head like delicious, perfect bubbles. I’m a married woman! Take that, Jordan!

“Oh?”

“You’re trying to put me off. You’re trying to scare me. Why?”

His laugh was gruff. “I am telling you what I want,” he said, “because if you do not want the same thing, this is the time for you to go.”

Her eyes flared wide. “I want it,” she promised. “I want everything. I just don’t want to wait.”

He let out a sound of frustration. “And I don’t want you to vomit everywhere.”

She couldn’t help the shaky laugh that erupted from her. “Charming.” And where the idea came from, Saphire couldn’t have said. Certainly not experience. “You want to know how well I feel?”

And before he knew what she was doing, she’d crouched down, her knees pressed against the hard, hot floor, her head at his crotch height. His erection was still exposed, and now, with one blink of those startling blue eyes up to his face, she opened her perfect red lips wide and took his length deep into her mouth.

He shuddered as the sensation of her enveloping him engulfed his body. “Saphire,” he groaned, as her tongue encircled his tip and sent him instantly spiraling out of control. “God.” He braced one hand on the wall above her and the other he ran through her hair, catching its length in a fist that he held at the base of her neck. “Theos,” he groaned, thrusting forward. His whole body was on fire. He stepped away from her with superhuman effort and he saw the pain and worry in her eyes. It registered but not enough for him to actually care. Not at that point.

“You want to do this?” He demanded, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a condom. It was a huge relief to Saphire who definitely wouldn’t have thought of such practicalities given the swarm of emotions that were running rampant through her. Deep down, she was terrified she was going to change her mind. That she was going to pull out of this plan. That she was going to remember she was a Good Little Housewife who couldn’t ever do to Jordan what he had done to her.

But now Thad didn’t give her a chance to reconsider. He unfurled the rubber over his length and pinned her back against the wall. Using one leg to separate her thighs, he entered her in a single driving motion. She bucked towards him, her whole body jerked by the total invasion. He was huge, and he was so deep; she wrapped her arms around his neck and he was pinching up her legs, holding them around his waist while her back stayed pushed to the wall. With every thrust, he kissed her, delving his tongue into her mouth in time with his body. She dug her nails into his perfect tanned skin and she bit her teeth into his shoulder. She was shaking; her nerve endings were jangling and tingling.

“You wanted to feel like this?” He demanded, pulling his face back just enough to meet her eyes.

She nodded, but there were tears sparkling on her lashes as the enormity of what they were doing frayed at her mind. He paused instantly. “Am I hurting you?” He demanded, already pulling out of her.

“No!” She cried, wrapping her legs more tightly around his waist. “Don’t. Please, don’t. It’s not you. This is … perfect. It’s just what I needed.”

He frowned but his own body was becoming impossible to command.

“Saphire …”

“It’s perfect,” she promised. “Thank you.”

He shook his head but he returned to the punishing pace. Saphire exploded. Her cry was loud, almost animalistic, as an orgasm unlike anything she’d ever experienced made her body weak and heavy.

He held her tight, running his hands over her flesh, as she slowly came back to earth. And then, when her breathing had slowed a little, he began to move again, this time slowly, tenderly, teasing her towards the edge rather than forcing her over it.

She murmured low and slow in her throat; the noise was addictive. He saw her face contort, and he knew that she was only seconds from another climax, so he finally gave into his own body’s needs and joined with her. Their oaths mingled together as pleasure erupted between them.

“Saphire,” he laughed throatily as his body still shook from the force of what they’d shared. “You are quite the surprise package.”

“Am I?” She shook her head, her smile ghost like. The tears had been smothered by passion.

“It is unusual for a woman who offers such promise to fulfill it.”

He was experienced. Very experienced. Whereas she had only been with one man before. She flushed. It didn’t matter. That didn’t matter to him. He’d enjoyed being with her, and God, she had almost died from the delirium he’d invoked.

“And not a hint of vomit,” she said, trying for humor.

He padded a thumb beneath her eyes. “Perhaps. But you must be exhausted,” he muttered, disappointed that he hadn’t been able to stay strong in the face of her charms.

“I’m fine,” she said more tartly than she’d intended. “Stop treating me like some kind of child,” she tacked on for good measure, wondering if she should have said as much to Jordan years earlier. Maybe if she’d demanded that he treat her like a woman, her husband wouldn’t have become bored and decided to look elsewhere.

“I am treating you with respect and courtesy,” he corrected, his words laced with frustration.

She nodded. “I just want to do that. More of that.” How many times until she screwed away her husband’s infidelity?