LITMIR.BIZ

      Where was she? He shot another impatient look towards the stairs. His work was done. The second shift of people in his team had just arrived to take over the work in the kitchen. He was determined that Iannis and his staff would have a wonderful evening to thank them for all the work to come. He and his team had made sure of it. There was no reason for him to stick around.

      No reason except Lizzie.

      ‘Leaving so soon?’

      His stare flashed up. Lizzie’s comment had surprised him. She was calling to him from the top of the stairs.

      He rested his fist on the wall. ‘And if I am…?’

      She shrugged. Her face was in shadow, so he couldn’t see her expression. ‘If you want to go—go. I won’t hold you to your promise’

      As she came slowly down the stairs her wildflower scent assaulted his senses. Her hair was still a little damp, and was hanging in tight curls, and her face was make-up-free. She was wearing a pretty sundress that exposed her pale, fragile skin and clung lovingly to the outline of her breasts. She had teamed this with simple sandals.

      The punch to his senses was extraordinary. She eclipsed all the society beauties he’d dated put together. His body responded accordingly, and it took all his willpower to rein it in.

      He’d wasted a lot of time dating women who made no demands on him and barely scratched the surface of his interest. Lizzie was different. She’d always been different. She was the one woman who intrigued him, who made him want to know more.

      ‘Are we going to stand here in the passage?’ she asked him as people squeezed past.

      ‘After you,’ he invited.

      He watched her walk ahead of him, small and proud, pale and sexy, with her striking red hair bouncing freely around her shoulders like a shimmering cloak of fire. The desire to grab a hank of that hair in his fist, so he could kiss her neck and see if that tiny tattoo of a tiger cub was still there, was overwhelming.

      His libido badly needed a break, he concluded as they joined the couples dancing between the tables.

      The next moment she had turned to face him and her arms were wrapped around him.

      ‘What?’ he murmured, staring down.

      ‘Are we going to dance, or are we just going to stand here?’

      He’d forgotten nothing.

      ‘I’m glad you didn’t leave,’ she admitted as he took her hand in his.

      She held his stare levelly, as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite put it into words. There was something driving her to be with him, to stay with him, but if it wasn’t sex what could it be?

      ‘I think we’d better dance,’ he agreed. The urge to feel her pressed up against him was irresistible.

      ‘If you’re brave enough.’ She laughed.

      ‘I’ve never flinched from a pair of sandals in my life.’

      She looked at him and almost smiled openly, frankly, as she had eleven years ago, but she looked away as they began to move. She didn’t need to hold his stare for them both to know that the contact between them was electric.

      They were just relaxing into the rhythm when a band of partygoers crashed into the restaurant from the beach, performing a no-holds-barred version of the Conga.

      Letting go of him, Lizzie pressed back against the wall to let the line of whooping dancers through. They stared at each other when they could as the seemingly endless line of bodies passed between them. Lizzie shrugged as it went on and on. He smiled ruefully. The wait seemed interminable, but finally the last of the revellers went by and, reaching out, he linked their fingers.

      No other woman came close to making him feel this way, he thought as he slowly drew her towards him, and when every part of them was touching as they danced he knew he’d missed her even more than he could say.