Page 21 of The Billionaire’s Siren (S.E. Smith Signature Romance: Heart & Soul #1)

Thirteen

The clink of silverware, the hum of polite conversation, Alexandros’s father talking business with her grandfather—it all blurred into background noise.

Dani sat stiffly, her nerves stretched taut like rigging on a storm-pulled sail.

She could feel it building.

The pressure.

The urge to move. To do something. Anything. Run. Jump. Scream. Strip him naked and straddle him right there at the table.

It didn’t help that Alexandros looked like a Greek god tonight—shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled to reveal strong, tanned forearms, that maddening aftershave curling around her like a dark, masculine spell.

She could feel the buzz of him—his heat, his awareness—tugging at her skin every time he shifted beside her.

She tried to pretend nothing was wrong, but she knew she wasn’t that great an actress.

Holding her breath, counting to one hundred—heck, even thinking of sheep wasn’t working.

Her switch had been flipped, and there was no turning it off.

She pursed her lips when he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her ear.

“You look a little flushed. Are you feeling alright? ”

She forced a tight smile, her voice a whisper. “I’m fine.”

Resisting the urge to fan herself, she knew she had never spoken a bigger lie.

She was on fire.

His concern lingered in his gaze, but he nodded and turned back to the conversation.

She barely heard a word. Her eyes flicked to the large windows across the dining room.

She couldn’t see the trawler from this angle—but she could feel it, just beyond the horizon, waiting.

Beckoning. Teasing her to end this torture by putting as much distance as she could between them.

Italy.

She could go back to Italy, find a quiet harbor, and disappear until her hormones chilled out. That dream tugged at her chest, a false promise of freedom when what she really wanted was sitting right next to her, his leg brushing against hers under the table.

The Italy escape fantasy popped like a soap bubble with a loud bang when Alexandros slid a warm hand gently over her knee. His thumb was tracing slow, soothing circles.

Her skin lit up as if a match had been struck. She sucked in a shallow breath and dropped her gaze to the napkin in her lap as heat pooled low in her belly and between her legs.

He wasn’t even looking at her. He was nodding along to something her grandfather said about family business, acting the picture of composed elegance.

All she could feel was the warmth of his hand through the thin material of her skirt. She didn’t care about dinner, or escape, or her wildly spiraling plans to flee to another continent anymore.

She wanted this—him.

One night—to see what it could be like between them.

One chance to see if the fire between them was real—or just the residue of past trauma, fantasy, or just plain hormones.

Her fingers slid down, covering his. A breath.

A choice. A sense of empowerment filled her as she guided his hand higher beneath the hem of her skirt.

His fingers stilled for a heartbeat—then trembled slightly as she guided his hand between her legs, letting him feel the heat and ache he had built inside her with every restrained night in her bed.

He inhaled sharply.

She smiled sweetly at the table, eyes demurely lowered.

A heartbeat passed.

His fingers twitched when she rocked her hips ever so gently.

She felt the change in him like a jolt through the air. His hand flexed, the muscle in his thigh clenched, and the air between them thickened to something electric.

“Christ,” he whispered hoarsely, barely audible.

She turned to him, her eyes laughing, teasing. Her hips shifted again, guiding his fingers in a way that made her throat catch.

He didn’t look at her.

He didn’t have to.

The next moment, he dropped his napkin onto the table with a clatter, pushed back his chair, and stood.

“I’d like to take Dani outside,” he said, his voice rougher than usual. “To see the moonlight on the water.”

There was a pause.

Eleni blinked. “But—my dear, the moon isn’t even?—”

“She adores the sea at night,” Alexandros added smoothly, already reaching for Dani’s hand.

Stuart coughed behind his wineglass. “Pretty sure moonrise isn’t for another hour, but hey, who am I to argue with romance?”

Dani couldn’t help it—she laughed. A breathless, giddy giggle that turned into a squeak when she was abruptly swept off her feet.

Literally.

Alexandros’s arms slid under her, lifting her like she weighed nothing. Her hands flew to his shoulders for balance as he strode through the dining room, jaw tight, eyes smoldering.

Shocked murmurs and muffled laughs followed them.

He didn’t stop.

Through the hall, towards the stairs, and away from the terrace. He climbed them two at a time. Her breath caught again—this time from the raw tension vibrating through his entire frame .

A muscle in his jaw ticked.

Her fingers followed, brushing his cheek. A shiver of wanton desire coursed through her.

He stopped.

Their eyes locked. Her eyes were filled with anticipation and need. His filled with a smoldering sensuality that turned her body to mush.

“You’d better understand,” he said, his voice low, nearly ragged, “what is about to happen.”

Her heart was thundering now, her body already trembling with the tension of yes, finally, yes.

She leaned forward, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I do.”

And that was all it took.

He lowered her to her feet in the upper corridor, pushing her up against the wall. His mouth captured hers in a kiss that stole every coherent thought from her brain. There was nothing gentle about it—only heat, hunger, and the release of everything they had bottled up for far too long.

Her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. His tongue swept inside, tangling with hers. He released her to kiss along her cheek and neck before he returned to drink deeper. His body pressed against her. His arousal strained against the thin fabric of his trousers.

His hand cupped the back of her neck, the other sliding between her thighs. She parted for him, gasping when his hand slid between the fabric of her skirt and panties and her skin. His fingers slid through the tight curls protecting her womanhood. She moaned when he caressed her swollen nub.

“Alexandros,” she whimpered, pressing her face against his neck and clutching his shoulder.

“When you’re near me, nothing else matters, Dani. Only you could make me lose control so much that I could take you here, in the hallway where anyone can come upon us. That tells you how much you affect me,” he growled.

Her legs gave out when he stepped back. He swept her back into his arms. His face was a mask of desire. His eyes blazed with an emotion that bordered pain .

A second later, the door slammed shut behind them. She didn’t recognize this room, but knew it must be his. He carried her to his bed and laid her down.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped.

“Not a chance,” she whispered, tilting her head back and lifting her hands to the front of his shirt.

His lips found her neck, her collarbone, his hands sliding up her thighs, gripping, possessive and reverent all at once.

The sound of material ripping was muted by their heavy breathing. Dani frantically pulled his shirt loose from his waistband, her fingers fumbling at buttons until she could feel skin—warm and tight over muscle. He groaned when her nails scraped lightly down his stomach.

Her blouse was a lost cause. He cursed as her bra defied him. She giggled and rose far enough to lock her lips to his. She kissed him wildly, reaching back to pop the hooks free. In seconds, his hands were cupping her full breasts.

Her cry was muffled by his lips when he captured her nipples between his forefinger and thumb and pinched them.

He had been treating her like she was something precious and breakable—but his eyes told her she wasn’t.

Not tonight.

Not anymore.

Tonight, she was going to be unravelled. Touched. Claimed.

And she was going to do the same to him.

Because neither of them could wait any longer.

This wasn’t just fire…

It was an inferno hot enough to seal two souls into one.

Alexandros silently cursed—in a good way. Dani was beneath him, flushed and breathless, her braid spilling across the pillows like silk. He wanted to see it unbound like her, spread out so he could bury his fingers through the silky strands .

Her eyes—wide, luminous, unguarded—searched his face, and for a moment, everything inside him stilled.

Not from hesitation.

God help him, she was beautiful. Not just her body, which was soft, fierce, and curving under his hands like it had been made for him—but the soul in her gaze. The fire. The courage. The vulnerability she never let anyone else see.

She was his. Even if she didn’t know it yet.

He knew. He had known from the first moment he met her. Memories of her since their first meeting flashed through his mind. Her smile, her laughter, the twinkle of her teasing eyes. A shudder ran through him when the memory of her lying unconscious, covered in blood rose.

Never again. Never again, he thought, remembering how close he had come to losing her—losing this.

He brushed a trembling hand down her cheek. “Dani…”

Her fingers slid up, wrapping around his wrist. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist. “Please. I want this. I want you.”

He exhaled slowly, anchoring himself in the heat of her palm. “You’re so beautiful. We need to slow this down. You tell me if you want to stop. At any point.”

She blinked in confusion before her cheeks flushed with color. He remembered he was her first. Her chest rose and fell as she drew in sharp little breaths.

“Maybe you should be the one telling me that because I think slow is highly overrated at the moment. You have no idea how much I want you—have needed you.”