Free When Christakos Meets His Match by Abby Green

for college while her father had been struggling.
    She felt absurdly gauche right then, knowing that Alexio must be used to women who dressed like... women . Not impoverished students. Which was what she was. But what she wouldn’t give right now for some sleek little black number...
    Sighing deeply, Sidonie reached for a pair of dark denims that might be construed as smart and selected a grey T-shirt with a glittery sequin design on the shoulders. She slipped on the slingback heels she’d worn for the meeting and, after inspecting herself in the mirror and balking at her freshly scrubbed pink face, applied some make-up to try and make up for her woefully inappropriate outfit.
    She was tempted to put her hair up again, but recalled Alexio taking it down earlier. The thought of those hands and long fingers touching her made her leave it alone. She didn’t want to tempt him in any way unless she was competely prepared for his response. But then, she didn’t think she’d ever be prepared for the response of a man like Alexio.
    Sidonie took a deep breath, as if that might ease the tumult in her breast and in her blood. The ease with which this relative stranger seemed to have sneaked under her skin scared her and exhilarated her in equal measure. It was like being on a rollercoaster ride with no one at the controls.

CHAPTER FOUR
    A LEXIO CAUGHT A movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up from where he was pouring some wine into two glasses. His heart stopped in his chest.
    Sidonie stood at the bottom of the stairs, her hands clasped together. She was in black figure-hugging denims and pointy shoes. She wore a grey T-shirt with something that sparkled on its shoulders. She hadn’t put her hair up— because she knew he’d just take it down? —and it tumbled over her shoulders, glowing with an inner fire that flared under certain lights.
    Despite the obvious cheapness of her clothes, once again he was struck by her natural beauty, and he wondered how on earth he’d ever dismissed her. The jeans he’d put on felt restrictive, and he gritted his jaw against his newly rampant libido. He had been mourning its dysfunction only twenty-four hours ago. The irony was not lost on him.
    He put down the wine bottle and walked over. He saw her cheeks flush as he got nearer. His blood leapt in response. It was as if they were linked. Attuned to exactly the same rhythms. Making love with this woman... Alexio knew instinctively that one night would not be enough, but he pushed that revelation down rather than deal with the skin-prickling awareness of something dangerous that accompanied it.
    She looked nervous and gestured to her clothes, clearly self-conscious, making Alexio feel as if he wanted to reassure her in a way that no other woman of his acquaintance ever needed.
    ‘I didn’t come prepared for a fancy dinner. You’ll have to excuse me.’
    Alexio took her hand. His voice was gruff. ‘I want you to be comfortable. I didn’t make much effort either.’
    He saw her eyes drop to take in his plain white shirt and faded jeans. Bare feet. She looked back up again and her eyes had grown wider, their pupils dilated. Her cheeks were more flushed. She wanted him .
    She obviously heard movement in the kitchen and said, ‘Was I longer than twenty minutes?’
    He smiled. ‘About forty...but I allowed for that. It seems a safe bet where a woman is concerned.’
    He immediately saw the aquamarine fire in her eyes, the way her small chin tipped up, and expected a tart reply. But he wouldn’t let her hand go when she tried to pull away. He had to keep touching her. It was like a compulsive need.
    ‘You’ve known a lot of women, then, to make this empiricial study of their time-keeping on a general level?’
    Alexio’s smile faded. He could see past the bluster to where there was a hint of genuine insecurity. He touched her jaw and saw her mouth firm, as if warding off his effect on her.
    ‘I’m no monk, glikia mou . But