The Power of the Legendary Greek - By Catherine George Page 0,44

in a hard school. I can look after myself. And I am not fool enough to go there alone. Andres and my security team will be in the background in support.’ Luke looked into her eyes, as though assessing her mood, then drew her into his arms and held her close. ‘Do not worry, Isobel.’

‘I can’t help it. I’ll have nightmares tonight.’

‘I know a remedy for that,’ he whispered.

‘Cocoa?’

He let out a smothered crack of laughter. ‘I tasted that once in England, but I doubt that we have any here. My remedy is even sweeter, Isobel,’ he added in a tone which sent her pulse racing. ‘I must go down and tell Spiro what hour I intend to leave.’ He kissed her fleetingly on the lips and brushed a hand over her hair.

Isobel lay frowning at the door he’d closed behind him. Had that been a goodnight, sleep well kind of kiss? She slid carefully off the bed to collect the beautifully laundered nightgown Eleni had left ready and limped to the bathroom, impatient with herself. He probably thought his doubts had made her angry. Maybe normally they would have. But tomorrow he was going to risk his life to hunt down the man out for his blood. She shivered, knowing she had no hope of any sleep tonight, for more reasons than one. She should have been more blunt and simply asked Luke to sleep with her. Best cure of all for nightmares—and probably a good many other things. Surviving kidnap had put things into perspective, teaching her that life was not only short, but could also be very sweet if she let it.

Isobel went over to the veranda windows, tested them to see that they were locked securely, then returned to the bed, picked up her book and sat up against the pillows. If Luke wasn’t coming back, insomnia would be her fate. But she could at least read, and leave her bedside lamp on as her candle in the dark. The story was by one of her favourite authors, but the intricate mediaeval mystery, though gripping and beautifully written, failed to hold her attention. Then her eyes flew up in surprise as Luke came in and very deliberately locked the door behind him.

‘As I thought, we have no cocoa,’ he said, his eyes holding hers as he walked slowly to the bed. ‘So we must try my remedy instead.’

Isobel licked the tip of her tongue over suddenly dry lips. ‘You didn’t say, exactly, what that was.’

Luke smiled as he sat on the edge of the bed. ‘It is very simple, hriso mou. I just hold you in my arms all night and keep you safe.’

Isobel’s heart turned over. ‘Sounds most effective,’ she said shakily.

‘It is. There is just one problem. Or possibly more than one.’

‘Oh?’

‘If I hold you in my arms I will not sleep.’ His eyes blazed. ‘But I will gladly endure insomnia to guard you from nightmares, Isobel.’

Her eyes fell. ‘I seem to be constantly in your debt. How will I ever repay you?’

‘I can think of a way.’ Luke smoothed a hand over her hair. ‘Can you?’

‘Yes,’ she said, burning her boats. ‘Is it the same way as yours?’

Luke growled as he pulled her into his arms. ‘You are tormenting me, Isobel mou,’ he whispered, his lips a tantalising inch from hers. ‘I want you. Tell me you want me.’

Of course she wanted him. At this moment she wanted him more than anything or anyone she’d ever wanted before. After all the trauma, she deserved this. It would be her reward equally as much as Luke’s. And if things went wrong tomorrow… She shivered and Luke’s arms tightened, his victorious smile hidden in her hair.

‘Talk to me, hriso mou. You said your thanks were all you had to give. Have you changed your mind?’

‘Yes,’ she muttered into his chest. ‘So stop talking and make love to me, Lukas Andreadis—before I change it back again.’

He let out a shout of laughter and leapt up to strip off his clothes. But as he moved naked to the bed she held up her hand.

‘No. Just stand still for a moment, as you did by the pool.’

She let her eyes move slowly over the burnished bronze curls, and the eyes that glowed like coals in his taut face. She lingered over the broad shoulders, the torso that tapered into a lean waist and long muscular legs, and the stirring masculinity between them. To Isobel’s delight, colour rose along