Pushing him onto his back, she fumbled with his belt buckle and fly and finally had him in her hands. She slid onto him with one shift of her hips. Throwing her head back, she shivered with pure wanton pleasure at how good he felt inside her. Leandro's hands roamed up her thighs to find her hips, and he began to move inside her, pumping up into her with strong strokes, lifting her hips to increase the friction between them. Desire tightened inside her, and she found his rhythm, tilting her hips as she rode him. After an intense, breathless few minutes, his hands tightened on her hips and he stilled. She opened her eyes to find him staring up at her.
"Condom," he said reluctantly.
She shook her head. "I'm safe," she said, starting to ride again.
He hesitated a moment longer, then he gave into the need gripping them both. She began to pant as pleasure gathered within her, and she stared down into his face, loving the flush of desire along his cheekbones, and the wicked glint in his eyes. His teeth were slightly bared, and the muscles of his neck tensed as he climaxed. Her own orgasm swept her away, and she threw back her head and gave a cry of absolute abandonment.
She collapsed onto his chest and listened to the thundering of his heart as he, too, returned to reality.
His hand came up to caress the back of her neck, and she pressed her face into his neck, enjoying the small moment of satisfaction and peace.
"It's good to see you, too," he said dryly after a few long minutes.
She smiled as she slid off him, even though a part of her was reeling at the rawness of what had occurred between them.
"That'll teach you to go away again," she said, but her voice wavered uncertainly.
He reached out and caught her hand when she started to stand.
"I missed you," he said, his eyes serious.
"I believe the feeling was mutual," she said lightly, her gesturing hand reminding him that they hadn't even made it past the foyer of her house.
He just held her eye, not saying anything, and she felt faintly ashamed of her flippant answer. Before she could stop herself, she lifted his hand to her mouth and kissed his knuckles. He curled his hand into her cheek, his thumb caressing her cheekbone as he stared into her eyes.
She had to look away from what she saw in his face. She didn't want this-did she? She didn't want to lose herself in a relationship, to feel the pull of all the obligations and concerns that love brought with it.
Pushing herself to her feet, she left him behind as she made her way to her en suite and shucked her dress. She was beneath the shower and lathering up when he joined her.
"We're going to be late," he said.
"Where exactly are we going again?" she asked.
He'd been very cagey about what he had planned for their Saturday afternoon together.
"Don't tell me-you don't like surprises? Typical control freak behavior," he said as he soaped her back.
"I'm a control freak, am I? Who was it who insisted on knowing where the cashews in his salad came from the other day when we were out?" she asked archly, pleased that he wasn't about to bring up what had just happened between them.
She'd been sure that he was going to push things, but it seemed she could enjoy what they had for a little while longer before it self-destructed.
"Cashews from Vietnam might have been exposed to Agent Orange," he said pedantically.
"Spoken like a true control freak," Claudia said.
He swatted her backside and moved in for a kiss. "Takes one to know one."
They were in the car and on the way to God knows where when he casually fished a small, flat parcel from his door pocket and passed it to her.
"Saw this and thought of you," he said casually.
She stared down at the elegant paper for a beat, taken off guard.
"Thank you. You shouldn't have," she said.
"Too late," he said.
She sensed that he was being very careful after their earlier moment, and she slipped a finger beneath the tape and unfolded the gift wrap. A slim, deep red silk scarf lay inside, and she instinctively ran it through her fingers. It felt as soft as a cloud against her skin, and she admired the rich ruby color.
"It's beautiful," she said sincerely. "Thank you, Leandro."
She leaned across and pressed a kiss onto his neck, not wanting to disturb him while he was driving.
"I know you like black, but red seemed like the right choice," he said. "I thought it would look good with your dark hair."
Flipping down the visor mirror, Claudia impulsively tied the scarf in a jaunty knot around her neck. It contrasted beautifully with her sleeveless sundress made from black Broderie Anglaise, and she preened happily.
"I should wear color more, I know," she said ruefully. "Black is the lazy woman's escape clause."
He flashed a smile at her, and for the first time it occurred to her that he was behaving a little oddly. It wasn't the gift, or the crazy foyer-sex. He seemed...nervous. A little uncertain, even. Both were so foreign to the way she thought of him that she peered at him through narrowed eyes.
"So, where are we going again?" she asked.
"We're here already," he said, pulling into a parking space.
She glanced up and saw they were out the front of a Greek restaurant in downtown L. A., a place she'd driven past a million times and always meant to try.
The tension went out of her as she realized he was simply taking her out for lunch, Greek style.
"They make great dolmades here," he said as they exited the car.
It had been a while since she'd had Greek food. Her mouth watered as she thought of bean salads, fresh fish, lemon and garlic.
The restaurant was cool after the warmth of the sun, and surprisingly empty. Claudia looked around at the whitewashed walls and red-and-white checked tablecloths and wondered if she should be worried about food poisoning. Where were all the other customers?
"There's a courtyard out the back," Leandro said, obviously sensing her confusion.
"Oh, right," she said.
He led the way up a terra-cotta tiled hallway, and then he pushed open a door and they were outside, surrounded by the buzz of people, the twang of bazouki music and the savory smells of cooking meat and fresh baked bread.
For a second she clutched at Leandro's shirt, thinking they'd accidentally walked into the middle of someone else's party and readying herself to make a graceful exit. Then a nut-brown, gray-haired man just a shade shorter than Leandro spotted them and sent up a cry.
"Leandro! Finally you come!"
Every head seemed to swivel toward them, and Claudia felt a hundred pairs of eyes scan her from head to toe, taking in her cherry-red nail polish, her strappy high heels, the tight, low-cut bodice of her sundress, the jaunty scarf at her neck and the fact that Leandro had rested a proprietorial hand on her shoulder.
"This must be Claudia," the man said, stretching both hands out toward her as he approached. "We are so pleased you could come with Leandro today to celebrate my mama's birthday," he said.
She submitted meekly to being kissed on both cheeks as she realized that she'd just met Leandro's father.
"Claudia, this is my father, Stavros Mandalor," Leandro confirmed. "Dad, this is Claudia Dostis."
She was still trying to come to terms with the fact that Leandro had thrown her into the midst of a family party-an extended Greek family party-when the rest of the hordes descended. She found herself kissing cheek after cheek and subjected to hearty embrace after hearty embrace as the Mandalors welcomed her with flashing white teeth and good cheer.
Leandro's mother was smaller than Claudia with gray-streaked black hair confined in a tight bun and she touched Claudia's cheek approvingly as she stepped away from their greeting kiss.
"So beautiful. Leandro did not say you were so beautiful," she said.
Leandro rolled his eyes.
"Ma, stop trying to get me into trouble," he said.
She met his two brothers and two sisters, their wives and husbands, their children. She met cousins, uncles, aunts, family friends. She met the guest of honor, Mrs. Mandalor, a formidable gray-haired old lady who cast more than one disapproving glance at Claudia's cleavage.
And she felt utterly overwhelmed and ambushed. The noise, the laughter, the aroma of the cooking food, the vines climbing the walls-it was all too familiar, too dear, but also not hers.
She hadn't been with her family like this for three years. She'd missed christenings, weddings, birthdays. And all of a sudden Leandro had thrown her into the middle of his grandmother's birthday and all the grief, the memories, the sadness of missing out, of being an outsider when she'd grown up with all this love and warmth came rushing up at her.
She needed air. She needed silence. She needed to think, to get a grip.
Leandro was talking to one of his brothers nearby, and Claudia leaned toward the brother's heavily pregnant wife, hoping she'd remembered the woman's name right.
"Betty, could you tell me where the ladies' is?" Claudia asked.
"Go back the way you came, but turn left just before you step into the dining room," Betty supplied readily.
Claudia smiled her thanks and struck out for the door. She was stopped twice by Leandro's cousins, all of whom seemed to know that she worked on Ocean Boulevard and who wanted to tell her how much they loved the show.
She filed away the fact that Leandro had obviously been talking about her with his family, made what she hoped were coherent responses to their comments, and dove for the door again.
The door closing behind her cut the ambient sound in half, and she fought the sudden sting of tears as she made her way to the bathroom.
Shutting herself in a cubicle, she leaned against the door and willed herself not to cry. She hadn't been prepared, that was all it was. She told herself the same thing over and over, but she couldn't stop the wellspring of grief bubbling up. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she clamped her jaws shut.
She would not cry.
Yes, she missed her family. Perhaps more than she'd ever admitted to herself. Yes, she felt lost, very alone, very isolated without them, and the last twenty minutes had brought that home to her. But life was full of tough decisions, and she'd made hers, and missing out had been the price she paid for removing herself from her mother's orbit.
Gradually the emotion filling her chest subsided, and she unclenched her fists from around her handbag. Exiting the cubicle, she washed her hands and checked her hair. She looked absolutely normal, completely unaffected, she was pleased to see. Tweaking the scarf at her neck so that the knot sat more to one side, she headed back out to join the Mandalors.
It wasn't until she stepped through the door and spotted Leandro that the full import of what he'd done-and what it meant-came home to her. She'd known that he cared, of course. The intense looks. The thoughtfulness. The tender caresses, the warmth. He wanted a relationship with her. He wanted to turn their sex-only fling into something much more substantial.
And she was going to have to break up with him.
A leaden weight settled in her belly at the thought. The past three weeks had been so good, so rich, so right. But she was about to come up against the wall of Leandro's expectations-and there was no way she could meet them.
"I got you some punch," he said when she'd made her way back to his side.
"Thanks."
She took a sip of something cold and tart and delicious. She could feel him watching her.
"You okay? Not too freaked out?" he asked.
His expression was sheepish when she glanced up at him.
"Would it matter?"
He sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to do it like this, but I wanted you to be here, and I figured you wouldn't have come if I'd asked you up front."
"You're right, I wouldn't," she said. "And you know why-this isn't part of the agreement, Leandro."
He frowned. "We have an agreement?"
"Yeah, we do, and you know it." She could feel her voice rising, and she pushed her emotions back down. For starters, this was not the place to end things with him. And she was already feeling emotional. It was silly to tempt fate.
"Look, I just wanted you to meet my family. They're important to me," he said.
He left the rest of his sentence unspoken-that she was important to him, too, but he didn't need to say it. Suddenly she was filled with a great sadness. If she were a different woman. If she'd had a different life. But she wasn't, she hadn't.
"There you are. Alexandra wants to show you her woogie," Leandro's sister-in-law, Betty, said from behind them.
Leandro looked frustrated for a split second, but he quickly hid it. They both knew this was not the time or place to talk.
"First of all, I want to know what a woogie is," he said as Betty led forward a dark-haired little girl with long curly hair. Claudia guessed she was about three years old.
"This is a woogie," Alexandra said, holding up a scrap of old blanket.
"Oh, you mean a wuggie," Leandro said, crouching down so that Alexandra wouldn't have to crane her neck to see him. "That's what we used to call them when I was little. You know, your dad used to have a wuggie. He took it everywhere."
Betty snorted her amusement. "Something he neglected to tell me. No wonder he's so keen to stop her from carrying the damn thing around."
"Cried when it got washed accidentally, too," Leandro said.
Claudia suspected he was slandering his brother shamelessly, and despite herself she laughed. Betty looked from one to the other of them.
"Is he pulling my leg?" she asked Claudia.
"Yep," Claudia readily confirmed.
"Where's your sense of loyalty?" Leandro asked her.
"Where's yours, calling Dom a big sook? Lucky he didn't hear you," Betty said.
"Feel free to tell him if you want," Leandro suggested.
Betty slapped his arm.