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What was the underlying reason that had made accepting his proposal easy? Beyond the very sensible reasons of security and support, what had really made her agree to this?
Because marriage meant this.
Time with him. Sitting opposite him. Lying with him. Kissing him. Making love to him.
No, not making love.
It was sex. Just sex.
Except it wasn’t.
She swept her eyes shut, remembering every kiss, every touch, the way he laced his fingers through hers and stared into her eyes when she exploded with pleasure.
‘Hannah?’ He leaned forward, curving a hand over hers, and she startled, piercing him with her ocean-green eyes. ‘Are you okay? Is it the baby?’
She shook her head, and tried to smile, but her pulse was frantic and her stomach was lurching.
There was no way on earth she’d done something as stupid as fall in love with the man she’d agreed to marry.
Every step of the way he’d told her he didn’t want that. Their marriage wasn’t about love. It was convenient. Sensible. And yet a rising tide of panic made breathing difficult because they were due to say their vows in the morning, and Hannah knew hers wouldn’t be a lie.
In one week...no. Not one week. This thread had begun to stitch its way into her heart that very first night, on Chrysá Vráchia.
She hadn’t understood it then—how could she?
It was only now that she comprehended what she hadn’t been able to with Angus. Love wasn’t a choice, it wasn’t a sensible, practical formula one could apply to the ‘right’ candidate to ensure a lifetime of happiness.
It didn’t work like that.
Love was as organic as breathing and laughing. Love was magic and, somehow, it had placed Hannah and Leonidas on the same island at the same time and the chemistry of their bodies had demanded something of them. It hadn’t been about chemistry alone, though, she saw that now. He’d offered a one-night stand—and instead, she’d seen his heart and buried a piece of it in her own.
She gasped again, standing jerkily, moving to the balustrade and staring out at the inky black ocean. If it weren’t for the sound of the waves, it would have been impossible to know what was beyond the balcony.
‘Hannah? Christós! What is it?’
She shook her head, unable to speak, definitely unable to put any of this into words. She had to make sense of it herself first. ‘I... It’s nothing. I just wanted to look at the view.’
She felt his disbelief. ‘There is no view. It’s pitch black.’
She turned around to face him, surprised to find Leonidas standing right behind her. ‘There are stars,’ she said softly. ‘Lights in the dark. See?’
Her huge green eyes shifted heavenwards, but Leonidas didn’t look upwards. He stared at Hannah, worry communicating itself in every line of his body.
‘There is also dinner, on the table,’ he teased, the words only slightly strained. ‘And I am hungry.’
Hannah nodded, even though she wasn’t sure she could stomach any food.
‘In a moment.’ She gnawed on her lip, the realisation of a moment ago doing funny things to her, making her look at him in a wholly new way.
Was it possible to fall in love with someone so quickly? Was love at first sight something she even believed in? Could she be so impractical after everything she’d been through?
It didn’t matter how she queried herself.
Her eyes only had to glance to Leonidas and she felt the pull from his heart to hers. She felt a soaring of something inside her that was new and different and refused to be grounded.
She was suffocating, this knowledge desperate to burst from her, but she held it back, keeping her mouth closed even when the words pressed against her lips.
They would marry the next day, and she would say her vows, knowing they were true and honest, and then she would gently show him how she felt. She would give him time to adjust. To feel his way into this.
