Cathy Williams - Greek Mavericks - His Christmas Conquest

‘As you said, though, there’s no such thing as a free lunch. What will your price be?’

Theo’s eyes narrowed on her until Sophie was squirming in her chair. Wrong question, she belatedly realised, but yet again the words had popped out of her mouth before she could sift them over in her head.

‘Consider it a trade-off. Your cottage has done wonders for…my writer’s block, as it happens and one good turn deserves another.’ But he had a sudden image of her paying him back with her body, lying beneath him, writhing with passion, her eyes languorous and heavy with desire.

Not to be. He had always made a point of zero involvement with a woman who was tied up with another man.

‘Where will you…do it?’

Theo looked at her, disoriented for a few seconds by the very graphic nature of the image in his head. ‘Where will I do…what?’

‘The program,’ Sophie explained patiently. ‘You’re welcome to work here with us, but it’s very cramped compared to the cottage. But no problem, of course, if you’d prefer here…I mean, the files are all around…’ Literally. Which in no way could be construed as an advantage as far as she could see. She tried to picture him sitting here in the office with them for hours on end, or however long it took him to install the program, and her stomach did a funny little dip that left her breathless.

‘No. I’ll take it to the cottage with me. Are there any files on it you’d rather I didn’t see?’

‘Like what?’

‘Use your imagination,’ Theo said dryly.

‘No. No! Just work stuff.’

‘Right. Well, no time like the present.’ He stood up and so did Sophie. The way to the upstairs flat was through the back, and she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing up on end as he followed closely behind her.

The flat was small and functional. It contained all the basic requirements to make life palatable, though only for brief periods of time. At the end of the narrow corridor was a kitchen which was really only good for essential cooking and tea and coffee and off the corridor was a bedroom, a bathroom and a spare room which her father had used for his office and which she used for her desk-cum-dressing table.

The computer was on the desk. In his head, Theo had assumed it would be a laptop computer. It wasn’t. It was as big as a television set and, with his recovering foot, he would be unable to carry it.

‘I didn’t think,’ Sophie said quietly and he spun round to look at her. ‘Your foot. This is going to be way too heavy for you to carry.’ She saw a flash of fierce pride in his eyes and felt a moment of real empathy for him. ‘How did it happen?’ she asked curiously.

Theo shrugged and sat down. He tapped his finger idly on the mouse mat, frustrated that a simple task, that he would have thought nothing of once, was now beyond his reach.

‘By me being an idiot,’ Theo told her roughly. She had pulled up a chair and was sitting by him, probably on the verge of pouring some good old-fashioned Christian sympathy all over him. He didn’t want it and he didn’t need it. He felt the inadequacy of his body like a shameful physical blow. ‘I thought I could master a black run and it turned out that nature had a little lesson in store for me. And now,’ he scorned, ‘I suppose I must expect your pity. Spare me. Please.’

‘I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to pity you, Theo,’ she said truthfully. ‘You’re too… dominant .’ She gave him a crooked smile.

‘Is that a good thing, I wonder…’ Theo murmured.

‘It has its…advantages…’ Sophie answered. ‘Ordering drinks at a crowded bar…getting rid of pesky door-to-door salesmen…showing a yapping dog who’s boss…’

Theo smiled and the blast of it nearly took her breath away. In fact, she was sure that her breathing stopped, just for a few seconds. Her heart rate also seemed to have slowed.

‘Useful, then.’

‘Useful, yes.’

‘But not particularly attractive…’

Sophie, mesmerised, could only stare at the harsh angular beauty of his face, softened by the slight smile playing on his lips. She was barely aware of leaning forward, of her eyes half closing or of the sigh that escaped before she kissed him.

WITHIN that kiss lay the essence of forbidden passion. It was strong and urgent and shamefully hungry.

Theo’s surprise lasted all of two seconds, then he savoured the sweetness of her mouth and the soft yielding of her body inclined towards his. He hadn’t moved. Instead, Sophie had half risen from her chair so that she could lean into him and she moaned softly as he placed his hand on her naked waist, where her jumper had risen up.

‘I’m sorry…’ She drew back for air, confused and disoriented by the impulse that had overwhelmed her.

‘For what?’ Theo had his hand curled into her hair and, instead of removing it, he pulled her towards him and kissed her along her jawline, which sent hot and cold flushes racing through her body. He had planned to back away from her. She was involved with another man and he was no poacher, but her kiss had put paid to any such noble intentions. Wasn’t all fair in love and war? And she couldn’t be that involved with Robert if she was willing to fling herself at another man. Theo, starved of physical contact for so long, felt himself taking deep breaths to keep his body in some kind of check.

‘This shouldn’t have happened.’ Appalled by her own behaviour, Sophie tried to wriggle back but the hand behind her was like steel. The more she wriggled, the more firmly it remained in place. Eventually, she abandoned the unequal struggle. ‘I’m not comfortable talking to you like this. I’m going to pull a muscle in my back in a minute.’

‘So I let you go and you run away. Then, when we next meet, you tell me that we should pretend that nothing happened.’ He slipped his hand under the jumper and ran his finger along her spine until she thought she might just pass out from the sensation. ‘You don’t have to run away,’ he murmured, ‘and it’s no good pretending that there’s nothing between us…’

‘There is nothing…between us…! And could you please stop doing that…?’

‘Doing what?’ Theo allowed his finger to travel the dangerous route down her spine until he found the gap in the waistband of her trousers, just big enough for his gently exploring finger to linger along the stretchy Lycra band of her underwear. ‘Turning you on?’

Sophie shivered and made one last desperate attempt to make contact with Planet Earth. ‘You mustn’t…we mustn’t…It’s just not… right …’

‘Why? Because there’s a man in your life?’

Sophie, who hadn’t given Robert a moment’s thought, mumbled something that was totally inaudible. Her head was telling her to use any excuse at hand to prise herself out of this compromising position, but her body was singing a different tune, a wickedly seductive tune. Torn between conflicting demands, she could only listen to the velvety purr of his voice and knew, with horror, that she wanted to be persuaded because her body was screaming out to be touched and not just here and there, but everywhere.

‘You’re not serious about him, Sophie,’ Theo murmured softly. ‘Come and sit on my lap and I’ll tell you why…’

Sophie had never sat on a man’s lap before. Well, she guessed, she would have sat on her dad’s when she was a toddler, but never in a situation like this, when the atmosphere was thick with unspoken needs and the innocent act of sitting on his lap took on a whole new meaning.

But, of course, it was still within her grasp to pull away whenever she wanted. That was the thought that feebly ran through her head as she edged towards him and was spared a final decision because he yanked her down, forcing her to hold on to him to save herself from an undignified landing.