’Tis the Season for a Diamond - Chapter 3

Sylvie

I can’t believe it. Giorgios is here, right in front of me. He’s not dressed in his usual suit, but in a pair of faded jeans and a casual black shirt made out of some soft, textured material. He looks exactly like the man I fell in love with: ink black hair, grey eyes, and the bone structure of an angel.

I want to blink yet again or maybe pinch myself to make sure he’s real and not a mirage I dreamed up, made of Christmas wishes and hot fantasies.

But no, he’s no fantasy. He’s definitely here, I can still feel the warmth of his hands lingering on my fingertips.

Except, he’s not the man I thought he was. He’s not the Greek bodyguard who sent money back to his mother in Athens; no, he’s the owner of Atlas Security, one of the biggest security firms in Europe, which makes him something much more than just a bodyguard.

But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that he’s been lying to me about who he is for an entire year, and now he’s saying he’s in love with me. After telling me that our affair was only temporary and that he had to go back to Greece.

Cold shock is pulsing through me, and I don’t know what to do or what to say. This whole party thing was merely him trying to…what? Apologise? To resume our affair?

‘You said our affair was only temporary,’ I say, my eyes filling with helpless tears. ‘You said that it was over, that you didn’t want a relationship.’

He doesn’t move, but his gaze burns. ‘I thought that was what I wanted. But it turns out I was wrong.’

‘But why?’ I demand, my shock turning to anger. ‘Why did you even lie in the first place?’

He lets out a breath, the lines of his beautiful face tight. ‘I was a soldier, Sylvie, long before I started the company. And I saw…terrible things. That’s why I decided to start Atlas, to provide security for people who need it. But I have a lot of money, and people treat me in a certain way. Many are afraid of me, because of who I am, not to mention my…reputation. But the night we met, you looked at me as if I were your saviour, talked to me as if I were an ordinary man, and I…wanted that. I craved it.’

I remember that night and the smile he gave me. The way he talked to me, so naturally and openly. ‘Why would you think I’d treat you any differently if I knew the truth?’ I ask.

‘Because I didn’t want things to change,’ he says. ‘What I wanted was to feel like a man who’d never been a soldier, who’d never seen such terrible things. Who only wanted to be with this smart, funny, beautiful woman.’

I draw in a shaky breath, my heart beating faster. ‘That’s not what you said in Singapore.’

He meets my gaze, his own very direct. ‘I said a lot of stupid things in Singapore. And it wasn’t till afterwards that I realised that I’d made a huge mistake, that I’ve been in love with you all this time, and that if nothing else, I’ve learned that time is short. We’ve only got one life, and I didn’t want to live mine without you.’

There’s a lump in my throat, and I try to swallow to get rid of it. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’

He sighs. ‘Because I wanted to give you a proper apology, a proper confession. I remembered you saying you’d never had a white Christmas, so…I thought I’d give you one.’

My heart aches behind my breastbone, and beneath my anger at how he lied to me, how he left me suffer for months, all I want is to rush into his arms.

He takes a step towards me, and then another, coming closer, and all I can think about now are the snatched moments we had and how good they were. How I loved having his arms around me and how much I miss him.

So when he reaches out to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin, I shiver, but I don’t move. He takes a step closer, looking down at me, need blazing in his eyes. ‘I’ve missed you, sweetheart,’ he murmurs. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’

And I can’t help it, despite my anger and my shock, my whole body reacts to his touch the way it always does, tightening with desire and hunger. I turn my cheek into his hand, and then he slides his fingers into my hair, tilting my head back and his mouth is on mine. It’s hot, hungry, and desperate, and instantly I’m kissing him back with the same unrestrained need.

As soon as I do so, his hands are on my hips, pulling me up against his hard, muscular body, and I’m falling into him and the kiss the way I always did, his passion lighting me up like a firework.

But it’s not just me who falls—it was never just me. The kiss turns feverish, and soon he has me down on the sheepskins in front of his fire, his body covering mine. We claw at each other’s clothes, desperate to be skin to skin, and then we are, and when he finally settles himself between my thighs, he’s hotter than any fire. He pushes into me, and I wrap my legs around his waist, gripping his broad shoulders, welcoming him home.

Then he kisses me again, and he’s moving, the pleasure building and building, and so fast. It’s frantic and feverish, the desperation of months winding tighter and tighter, and we’re both too hungry to make it last. He takes me over the edge so perfectly, and then he’s following, growling my name before turning his face against my neck.

We stay like that, breathing fast and hard, until eventually, he lifts his head and looks down into my eyes. ‘I didn’t bring you here to resume our affair, Sylvie. I brought you here because I want you to be my wife.’