Jennifer Faye - Claiming The Drakos Heir

Blindly following his desires was how he’d gotten himself into a number of jams in the past, from angry fathers with shotguns to returning to camp, where a tribal leader and anxious bride awaited him. He was older now, more responsible. But that didn’t make Popi any less enchanting.

Get it together . He mustered up an image of the legal documents—papers that would steal away his last link to his brother. Suddenly his heated blood cooled and his thoughts became more focused.

And then he turned his gaze back to Popi. Perhaps he’d made a miscalculation by lingering at this wedding. He should have waited to speak with her. But he’d already waited too long to take his rightful place in the Drakos family. Guilt and determination kept him from walking away.

If only Popi didn’t look so captivating, he’d be able to sort his thoughts—to speak his mind. His gaze continued to take in her beauty. Her hair was pinned up with just a few wispy strands of hair around her neck—ringlets that teased and tempted him to reach out and wrap them around his finger. And her gown hugged her curves and dipped low enough to hint at her tempting cleavage.

His mouth grew dry and his hands grew damp. Testosterone challenged his common sense. She looked so fine—very different from his sister-in-law, whom he recalled being a lot less curvy and had portrayed a more serious demeanor. And his old self would have swept Popi off her feet by now. It was so difficult being responsible and doing what was proper when his entire body longed to do all those improper things with Popi.

He blamed this instant attraction on this island. His research had unearthed that Infinity Island was famous for its romances. Marriages started here were rumored to last forever. Was it possible that it did hold some sort of magical power? Instead of a love potion, perhaps the island cast a love spell over its inhabitants.

Because right now, he was losing the struggle. All he could think about was kissing Popi. It didn’t matter that they barely knew each other or that she was very, very pregnant. It was the way the moonlight was reflected in her eyes.

And then there was the way she looked at him when she hadn’t thought he was paying attention. She was just as drawn to him as he was to her. That was the final part of his undoing.

Popi tilted her chin upward until their gazes met. “What’s the matter?”

“In this moment, nothing.”

“Then why did you stop dancing? Are you ready to answer my questions?”

He smiled at her tenacity, but he wasn’t ready to ruin this moment with the harshness of reality. It would happen soon enough. He drew her close again as the remaining verses of the song played. He heard the swift intake of her breath as her eyes widened. “The song isn’t quite over.”

Their bodies swayed together, but their feet didn’t move.

He lowered his head to her ear. Softly he said, “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

And then without thinking of the consequences—the right and wrong—he turned his head. He caught her lips. Part of him expected her to pull away—another part of him willed her to meet him halfway.

And then her mouth moved beneath his. His heart slammed into his ribs. Her glossy lips moved with eagerness. His tongue sought entrance. Her mouth widened, causing a moan to swell in the back of his throat.

Was this really happening? Could this amazing woman really be this into him? In that moment, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than her.

Being alone for so long—just him and nature—it got so lonely at times. Not that he’d ever admitted it to anyone. But with Popi in his arms, he had a glimpse of what life might be like if he were to let someone get close.

Her hand reached up and wrapped around his neck. In that moment, he lost his fingertip-hold on reality. Popi leaned into him. Her lips moved over his, taking the lead in this arousing dance. She was so hot that everywhere she touched him, he felt singed. And he didn’t want her to stop.

He’d kept to himself for too long. He told himself that was why her kiss was sweeter than the passion fruit Moscato wine being passed around the wedding. He assured himself it was all an illusion that would soon pass. But the longer they kissed, the more he craved her.

Apollo let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her waist. Her baby bump kept him from being able to pull her as close as he would like. It was a reminder that this wasn’t a fantasy. Popi was very much flesh and blood.

He should stop this. He should put some distance between them. He took a small step back—at least he thought it was a step—but Popi was still leaning into him as their lips moved hungrily over each other.

Her fingers spread out over his chest, scattering his thoughts of ending things. The V-neck of his shirt allowed her fingertips to touch his bare skin. It was as though just by her touch alone, she branded him as her own.

No woman, no kiss, had ever affected him so deeply. It was like they’d been made for each other. She was the half that made him whole.

A drum roll echoed through the garden and pounded reality back into his head. He pulled back and looked at her. It took them each a moment to catch their breath. He hadn’t come here to kiss Popi. His fingers moved over his mouth, still remembering the softness of her touch. He drew in an uneven breath.

Kissing her had been a mistake. He didn’t know if he was going to be able to talk to her—to look at her—without recalling that earth-moving kiss. And he couldn’t afford to be distracted. There was too much at stake.

He stepped away. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

Popi’s gaze darkened. “The song has ended. Now I want answers. Who are you?”

“Do you really not recognize me?”

“No.” She studied his face. “Why should I know you? Are you famous?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He’d been fodder for the tabloids off and on his whole life. Billionaire heir spotted here...spotted there. “I’m Apollo Drakos.”

Her mouth gaped. Her eyes reflected the rampant thoughts racing through her mind. It took her a moment to press her glossy lips together.

Popi’s gaze narrowed. “Where have you been? We tried to reach you right after the accident, but no one knew what had happened to you.”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“Of course it matters.” Her voice assumed an accusatory tone. “You should have been here.”

His muscles tensed as yet another person heaped guilt on him. He deserved the condemnation and accusations, but there was nothing she could say that he hadn’t already said to himself.

“I’m here now.”

“Then you know about the accident and that we had the funeral—”

“I know all of it. My attorney filled me in.”

Her gaze searched his. “Then what are you doing here on the island?”

“I’m here to claim the Drakos heir.”

NO. THAT CAN’T be true .

Popi’s arms immediately wrapped around her midsection. She’d heard rumors about the man standing before her. Apollo was known to be reckless and selfish. No way was he going to steal away into the night with this baby. Not on her watch. But try as she might, the rush of words clogged up in her throat. The back of her eyes stung with tears of frustration and a flurry of hormones.

Popi’s sister, Andrina, had said Apollo was a playboy—taking what he wanted and leaving a string of broken hearts across the globe. But Popi considered herself lucky. He’d stolen a kiss, not her heart.

Okay, maybe they’d shared much more than a fleeting kiss. But something had clicked between them when they’d been chest to heaving chest, lip to eager lip.