Читать книгу Eligible Greeks: Tycoon's Revenge - Шантель Шоу, Catherine George - Страница 12

THERE was no sign of Tahlia when Thanos walked into his private suite that evening, but it was late, and he assumed that she was getting changed for dinner. His meeting had overrun by several long and frustrating hours, and the discovery that preparations for the party to celebrate the official opening of the Artemis were way behind schedule had put him in a foul mood. He needed to have been in Greece these past few months, to oversee the completion of the new hotel, but thanks to Tahlia and his sleazeball ex-brother-in-law he had been at Melina’s hospital bedside in the States instead of running his company.

He crossed to the bar and poured himself a large Scotch, added ice to the glass and took a long sip as he strolled onto the terrace. Dusk had fallen, painting the sky in hues of purple and indigo, and the first stars glimmered as brightly as the lights of the tavernas and hotels that delineated the coast. But the peaceful scene did nothing to lift his mood, and when a faint noise from behind him alerted him to Tahlia’s presence he swung round, his brows lowering in a slashing frown as he studied her.

‘What made you think that dressing like a nun would please me?’ he queried, in a dangerously soft tone. He noted her mutinous expression and his mouth curled into a hard smile. ‘Or did you deliberately choose your most unattractive outfit to flout me?’

His guess was not too far from the truth, and Tahlia blushed. At the same time she felt a spurt of annoyance at his description of her as unattractive. It was true her faithful black skirt was years old and unfashionably long, and her cream silk-organza blouse with its high neck and a row of tiny pearl buttons running down the front could in no way be called sexy. But she had swept her hair up into an elegant chignon and taken care with her make-up. She didn’t think she looked a complete frump. Thanos, however, clearly held a different opinion.

‘I’m not taking you to dinner when you look like my maiden aunt,’ he said tersely. ‘Go and get changed while I shower, and be ready to leave in fifteen minutes.’ His brows rose when she did not move. ‘Of course I could always strip you myself—but if that happens I can guarantee we will miss dinner altogether.’

Tahlia flushed at the hungry gleam in his eyes. ‘You can’t tell me what to do. you don’t own me,’ she said angrily, frantically trying to banish the image of Thanos removing her clothes and then his, and the even more shocking idea of them showering together.

His mocking smile told her he had read her mind, and her insides squirmed in embarrassment. ‘For the next month I can do exactly what I like with you,’he warned her, in a voice laced with such blatant sexual intent that a shiver ran the length of her spine. His patience suddenly evaporated, and he caught hold of her hand and marched her across the lounge to the bedroom. ‘I’ll find you something suitable to wear,’he growled, but his frown deepened when he flung open the wardrobe and flicked through the few outfits she had brought with her.

‘Why did you bring so little with you when you knew you were coming to Greece for a month?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Or did you hope I would grow bored of you sooner?’ He reached out and tugged the clip from her carefully arranged chignon, so that her hair tumbled around her shoulders. The sultry gleam in his dark gaze sent a tremor through Tahlia’s body as stark awareness uncoiled in the pit of her stomach. ‘If so, then I fear you will be disappointed,’ he murmured, lowering his head so that his breath fanned her lips. ‘The sexual chemistry between us is at combustion point, my beautiful English rose, and I am seriously beginning to doubt that one month will satisfy my desire for you.’

His mouth was so close to hers that Tahlia shut her eyes, certain that he was about to kiss her. The exotic scent of his cologne swamped her senses, and there was no thought in her head to resist him. But to her shock he suddenly moved away from her. Startled, she let her lashes fly open, and she found that she was standing with her mouth still parted in readiness for his kiss. The sound of his soft, mocking laughter filled her with mortification at the shameful sense of longing that he would snatch her into his arms and ravage her mouth with primitive passion.

Thanos closed the wardrobe with a decisive snap. ‘There is nothing in there that excites me,’he said bluntly. ‘You will have to stay as you are tonight, but tomorrow you will go shopping. We’ll be attending many social events while we are here and you’ll need several evening dresses, as well as daywear.’

Tahlia thought of her latest credit card bill, which she had no means of paying off, and shook her head. ‘I can’t afford to buy new clothes,’ she admitted wearily, her temper flaring at Thanos’s sardonic expression. He believed she led the life of a pampered princess, but nothing could be further from the truth. ‘The clothes I’ve brought with me are all that I own. My father hasn’t been able to pay my salary for the last three months. Every penny went into keeping Reynolds Gems solvent. I worked for nothing in the desperate hope that we could save the company,’ she explained when he looked disbelieving. ‘I sold most of my clothes, and my jewellery, but I didn’t make enough to cover my bills and living expenses. I’m struggling to cover even the minimum payment on my credit cards, and a shopping spree is out of the question. You’ll just have to take me as I am,’ she finished defiantly, and then blushed scarlet as she realised what she had said.

‘I am very much looking forward to taking you, Tahlia,’ Thanos assured her gravely, the glinting amusement in his eyes masking his shock at her assertion that her life in London had not been one of luxury and over-indulgence, as he had assumed.

Of course she could be lying, he mused. Experience had taught him that most women were accomplished liars—none more so than Yalena, when she had been sleeping with one of his closest friends at the same time as swearing her love for him. But his gut instinct told him that Tahlia was telling the truth about her financial situation. No wonder she had agreed to be his mistress in return for him buying her father’s company, he thought cynically. He knew from the numerous photos of her in the press that she liked to dress in haute couture. No doubt she would spend her share of the proceeds of the sale of Reynolds Gems on restocking her wardrobe.

He glanced at his watch, and then strolled towards the en suite bathroom. ‘We’re running seriously late, so I’ll have to wait until tonight for the pleasure of taking you to bed,’ he drawled. ‘As for shopping—I will be paying for your clothes. Think of it as one of the perks of being my mistress,’ he said in a harder tone, when she opened her mouth to argue. ‘I want to see you in sexy clothes that flatter your gorgeous body. Not in an outfit that makes you look as though you are auditioning for a role in The Sound of Music.’

Dinner was the ordeal Tahlia had expected. In ordinary circumstances she would have enjoyed the stunning décor and the ambience of the Artemis’s gold-star restaurant, where a celebrated French chef had prepared four superb courses. But from the moment Thanos led her over to the table where his guests were already seated and introduced her as his ‘companion’ she felt so painfully self-conscious—everyone must have guessed she was his mistress—that she could do no more than toy with her food.

As well as the dignitaries from Mykonos, three of Thanos’s top executives were also present, and although everyone spoke in English rather than Greek, her attempts at conversation with them were stilted. They clearly thought she was a bimbo, and one of the executives, a man Thanos had introduced as Antonis Lykaios, watched her avidly throughout the meal, trailing his eyes over her as if he were mentally undressing her.

Tahlia was torn between longing for the evening to be over and praying that it would last for ever—because what was to come next was certain to be a hundred times worse, she brooded. Her eyes were drawn to Thanos. He looked breathtaking tonight, in a black dinner suit and a white silk shirt, his dark hair swept back from his brow and the flickering light from the table’s centrepiece of candles highlighting the sharp edges of his cheekbones. He was urbane, sophisticated, and no doubt a skilful lover, she thought, feeling a rush of shaming heat flood through her when he looked across the table and their glances locked.

The voices around her faded, and she was reminded of the first time she had seen him at the art gallery, when she had felt as though they were the only two people in the universe. She watched his eyes darken with a sensual promise that made her mouth run dry, and butterflies leapt in her stomach. It was not Thanos she was afraid of, she acknowledged bleakly; it was herself and her pathetic inability to resist him. It was utterly ridiculous to feel so drawn to a man who openly admitted that he despised her, but when she had first seen him at Rufus Hartman’s exhibition—before she had learned that he blamed her for his sister’s accident—she had felt an emotional bond with him which defied logic or common sense. A voice in her head had whispered that he was the ‘the one’ she had been waiting all her life to meet.

‘Would you like more wine, Tahlia?’ Antonis Lykaios leaned towards her, proffering a bottle of Chardonnay, and Tahlia was so grateful for the excuse to drag her eyes from Thanos that she forgot how her skin had crawled when Antonis had leered at her and smiled at him.

Across the table Thanos fought the urge to rearrange his junior executive’s handsome face with his fist—before continuing the caveman tactics by throwing Tahlia over his shoulder and carrying her off to his bed. How dared she flirt with Lykaios in front of him? he thought furiously. But what had he expected? In recent months the British tabloids had regularly reported on her energetic love-life with Z-list celebrities. Clearly she would flirt with any man under seventy.

He gave a brief nod to his chief executive, indicating that it was time to bring the evening to an end, before his gaze strayed back to Tahlia. His initial opinion that her outfit was unflattering had been wrong, he thought irritably. At first glance she looked chaste and demure in the high-necked blouse, but look closer and it was possible to see the outline of her breasts beneath the sheer material. His fingers itched to unfasten every one of those tiny buttons and slowly reveal her delectable body. With her pale red-gold hair falling in a silky curtain around her shoulders and a subtle pink gloss on her lips she looked incredibly sexy, and he was infuriated by the knowledge that he was not the only man at the dinner table who could not keep his eyes off her.

The dinner party eventually came to an end, and Tahlia stifled a sigh of relief when the guests stood up from the table. Antonis Lykaios seemed to have taken her smile as a sign that she was interested in him; twice she had had to forcibly remove his hand from her thigh beneath the tablecloth, and she forced herself not to flinch now, when he lifted her fingers to his mouth and kissed them in a theatrical farewell gesture. She saw Thanos’s brows lower in a slashing frown, and her sense of foreboding escalated when they crossed the marble vestibule to the lift and he surveyed her in a brooding silence as they travelled to the top floor.

‘I realise that you automatically flirt with anyone in trousers,’ he drawled as followed her into his suite, discarding his jacket and tie and flinging them carelessly over the back of a chair. ‘But Antonis Lykaios is engaged, and I will not allow you to sink your predatory claws into him.’

‘I pity his fiancée,’ she snapped, her temper flaring at the undisguised contempt in his voice. ‘Your executive was flirting with me, and I’d be grateful if you would tell him to keep his sweaty hands to himself in future.’ She closed her eyes against the pain stabbing at her skull, aware that her headache was due as much to the two glasses of wine she had drunk although she had eaten very little dinner, as to her rising nervous tension. Thanos was heart-stoppingly sexy, with his dark hair falling onto his brow, but he also looked grim and forbidding, and the prospect of giving her virginity to him when he had made it plain that he despised her was suddenly unendurable.

She lifted a hand to massage her temples, and pleaded shakily, ‘Thanos, can we talk?’

His dark brows lifted in an expression of arrogant amusement. ‘Talking is the last thing I have in mind for tonight.’ He strolled towards her and drew her hand away from her face. ‘We made a deal, Tahlia,’ he reminded her, his voice suddenly harsh and his eyes glittering with cold indifference. ‘And now the time has come for you to honour your side of it.’

Her heart was thudding so hard that it hurt to breathe. ‘Please…’ she cried urgently. ‘I swear I had no idea that James was married to your sister…’

She was prevented from saying any more when Thanos placed his finger across her lips. ‘Save your lies—and your tears.’ He surveyed her over-bright eyes dispassionately, and brushed away the single tear that slipped down her cheek with his thumb. ‘I’m not taken in by either,’ he said savagely, and lowered his head, capturing her mouth in a punishing kiss that sought to dominate as he forced her lips apart with a bold flick of his tongue.

Once again he had moved with the speed of a panther, pouncing for the kill, and once again Tahlia was unprepared for the molten heat that swept through her the instant he touched her. What was wrong with her? she wondered despairingly. Pride dictated that she should remain stiff and unresponsive in Thanos’s arms, but he intoxicated her senses so that she could not think logically, and she was conscious only of the slight abrasion of his cheek against hers, the tingling sensation in her breasts as he crushed her against his chest.

Thanos finally lifted his head and stared down at her, his eyes gleaming when she unconsciously traced her tongue over her swollen lips. ‘This madness is not mine alone. You feel it too,’ he grated, his fury and frustration palpable—and yet Tahlia sensed that his anger was directed as much at himself as her, and she knew that, like her, he was startled by the intensity of the sexual chemistry which blazed between them. ‘You are like a fever in my blood,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I wanted you from the moment I saw you, and now I cannot wait any longer.’

‘Thanos…no!’ She gave a shocked cry when he moved his hands to the neck of her blouse and wrenched the fragile material apart, so that little pearl buttons pinged in all directions. Before she had time to react he reached around and unsnapped her bra, casting the delicate scrap of lace to the floor so that her small pale breasts were exposed to his heated gaze.

He was breathing hard, and Tahlia watched in fascination as dull colour flared along his magnificent cheekbones. The feral hunger in his eyes made her tremble with a mixture of apprehension and an unbidden shivery excitement. No man had ever looked at her the way Thanos was doing now, and she instinctively tried to cover her breasts with her hands.

He caught her wrists and tugged them down to her sides. ‘Don’t hide yourself from me,’ he said harshly. ‘I want to feast my eyes on every inch of your delectable body.’

His words made Tahlia tremble—not with fear, she acknowledged, but with a feverish excitement she could not deny. Her heart slammed in her chest when he pushed her hair over her shoulders, then slid his hand down her body and curled his fingers possessively over her breast. She tensed, expecting him to be rough, but his palm was warm on her bare flesh, and when he stroked his thumb-pad across her nipple in a feather-light caress she gasped as exquisite sensation arced through her.

‘Not just beautiful, but delightfully responsive,’ Thanos drawled.

She blushed scarlet at the undisguised satisfaction in his voice, but her body seemed to have a will of its own, and she could do nothing to prevent the dusky nipples from swelling into taut peaks. He moved his hand to her other breast and rolled the swollen nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending another lightning bolt of sensation spiralling down to the pit of her stomach. She caught her breath when he tugged her backwards and lowered his head to the slender arch of her body.

He flicked his tongue back and forth over her nipple, building her pleasure to a level that was almost unbearable, and she gave a choked cry when he finally desisted in teasing her and clamped his mouth around the provocative peak. The sensation of him suckling her was so breathtaking that her lashes drifted down and she gave herself up to the storm he was creating, gasping with pleasure when he moved to her other breast and laved the throbbing peak with firm, wet strokes of his tongue.

She was dimly aware of Thanos dragging her skirt over her hips, and he muttered something in Greek in a hoarse tone when he eased away from her and trailed his eyes down from her pouting breasts to her flat stomach, then lower to her black lace knickers and gossamer-fine black stockings. Tahlia held her breath when he placed his hand on the strip of creamy flesh above her stocking-top, and she felt liquid heat flood between her thighs. Was he going to take her here and now? Drag her to the floor and spread her beneath him on the carpet?

Tension gripped her. Until now she had always believed that she would only ever make love when she was in a loving relationship. She had loved Michael, but their gentle romance had still been in its early stages when he had been snatched from her; she had thought she loved James, but he had lied to her, and she was glad she had discovered his treachery before they had become lovers. Maybe it was time she gave up on love, she thought bleakly. There was no love between her and Thanos. Just mistrust and dislike and a searing passion that obliterated every logical thought and demanded to be appeased. She had agreed to have sex with him in return for her parents’ financial security and she would not back out now. But it was only fair that she tell him she was not the experienced seductress he believed.

Thanos stared down at Tahlia’s semi-naked body and drew a ragged breath, his nostrils flaring as he fought to bring his raging hormones under control. The delicate skin of her inner thigh felt like satin beneath his fingers, and the urge to move his hand higher and slip it beneath her lacy knickers was so strong that it took every ounce of his formidable will-power to deny himself the pleasure of touching her intimately. His brain acknowledged what she had done—how she had hurt Melina—but his body did not seem to care that she that she was an immoral slut, and it was on fire for her.

‘Thanos…I have to tell you…’ Her voice shook, but he ruthlessly hardened his heart against her.

‘But I don’t have to listen—and certainly not to more of your lies and excuses,’ he said harshly, disregarding her startled cry as he swept her up into his arms and strode towards the bedroom.

Tahlia was shaking so badly she was sure Thanos must feel the tremors running through her body. Perhaps he thought she was trembling with excitement? She could not bear to meet his gaze and see his familiar mocking expression, so instead she curled her arms around his neck, pressing her face against his shoulder while he carried her. It was not too late to stop this, a voice whispered in her head. She could tell Thanos she would rather sell her soul to the devil than trade her body for hard cash. But what about her parents? another voice screamed inside her. How could she allow them to lose their home and the worry-free retirement they deserved?

Thanos shouldered open the door of the master bedroom, strode over to the bed, and laid Tahlia down on the peacock-blue satin bedspread. Her glorious hair fanned across the pillows in a halo of shimmering gold. He could not resist winding a long silky strand around his fingers, and heat surged through him as he lowered his eyes to her breasts and feasted on their milky-pale beauty.

Why Tahlia? he asked himself angrily. He had never wanted any woman the way he wanted her. His desire was mindless, desperate, an irresistible force clamouring to be assuaged, and his body shook with need as he stretched out beside her and pressed his mouth to the fragile line of her collarbone. She tasted of ambrosia, her skin as soft as rose petals beneath his lips, and he could not resist tracing them down her body, pausing at each breast to anoint its blush-pink tip, relishing the feel of her nipples swelling inside his mouth before he moved lower still.

Her sweetly puckered navel invited him to explore it with his tongue. He felt the tremor that ran through her, but she made no effort to touch him, and lay passive while he caressed her, as if she were somehow detached from her surroundings—from him. Anger coiled inside him. Did she think she could simply lie there, as unresponsive as a marble figurine while he took his pleasure? When he had finished with her would she wash herself clean of his touch? Believing that the price she had paid for her parents’ house had been worth soiling herself for? He did not want a sacrificial offering, he thought grimly. He wanted her warm and willing in his bed, and he was determined that soon she would be begging for his possession.

Tahlia stiffened when she felt Thanos’s hand slip between her thighs. Until the moment he had laid her on his bed she had been cocooned in a curious sense of unreality. It seemed impossible to believe that she had actually agreed to have sex with him, that he really would make love to her. But the feel of his hands and mouth on her skin, moving ever lower down her body, had catapulted her back to reality, and now fear churned in her stomach at the prospect of giving her virginity to him.

Hysteria formed a bubble in her throat as she imagined his reaction if she asked him to be gentle. He was convinced that she had been his brother-in-law’s mistress, and she could hear his scathing laughter if she told him that this was her first time. He would not believe her. And if he did—if he realised that she was innocent—he might well reject her and call off their deal. She could not risk that happening. She was going to have to put on the act of a lifetime, she thought numbly, and pretend that she was as experienced as he assumed.

His palm felt warm and faintly abrasive on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and she forced herself to relax as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her knickers and slowly drew them over her hips.

‘Beautiful,’ he murmured, his voice thick with sexual tension. She felt his hand brush gently through the triangle of gold curls, and her heart slammed in her chest when he ran his finger lightly up and down the lips of her vagina, so that they swelled and opened like the petals of a flower, moist and sweetly scented with her arousal, ready for him to explore her. He leaned over her to claim her mouth in a slow, drugging kiss that lit a flame deep inside her and banished her fears. His lips no longer sought to dominate but were gently persuasive, decimating her resistance so that she opened her mouth beneath his and kissed him back with hungry fervour.

Her breath hitched in her throat when she felt him gently part her, and she heard his low growl of satisfaction when he discovered the slick wetness of her arousal. She felt boneless, mindless, and she allowed him to spread her legs wider, excitement cascading through her when she felt his finger probe her velvet folds and slip between them. How could it be wrong when it felt so utterly and exquisitely right? she wondered dazedly. Instinctively she arched her hips so that he could slide his finger deeper into her, and she could not hold back a moan of pleasure when he stretched her wider and inserted another finger, moving his hand with delicate skill so that she writhed with the pleasure he was creating.

‘Undress me.’

The starkness of his command sent a jolt of trepidation through Tahlia, but her apprehension was mixed with irresistible sexual curiosity. His wickedly inventive fingers had aroused her to a fever pitch of desire, and she wanted…She did not know what she wanted, she acknowledged as she shifted her hips restlessly. This was all new to her. Her body felt tense and strung out, and only Thanos could soothe the dragging ache deep inside her.

She fumbled with his shirt buttons, her movements jerky and uncoordinated, but finally she spread the material aside and skimmed her hands over satin skin overlaid with crisp dark hairs. She could feel the heat emanating from him, and her senses flared as she inhaled the sensual musk of his cologne mingled with the subtle perfume of male pheromones. He dominated her mind and captivated her soul so that the world faded and nothing existed but Thanos, and the erotic glide of his hands and mouth over her trembling body.

Her lashes had drifted down, as if she could blot out the reality of what she was doing, but she was aware of him easing away from her as her skin quickly cooled, bereft of the warmth of his powerful body. She opened her eyes to discover that he had stripped down to his underwear. His black silk boxers could not disguise the jutting strength of his arousal, and when her gaze flicked upwards to his face the feral gleam in his eyes caused her heart to miss a beat. There was no going back; the message thudded in her brain, and she licked her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue as he stepped out of his boxers and stood before her, his bronzed, muscle-bound body as beautiful as a work of art, his powerful erection jutting proudly forward as he strode purposefully over to the bed.

‘I want you so badly I’m in danger of exploding,’ Thanos said hoarsely, his Greek accent sounding very pronounced. His capacity for logical thought had deserted him and his self-control was non-existent, while his body throbbed with a level of need that he had never experienced before. Tahlia’s slender, pale beauty summoned him, and the drumbeat of desire pounding in his veins overwhelmed him. ‘I apologise for the lack of leisurely seduction, but I have to have you now. And you are ready for me, Tahlia,’ he said thickly, his voice deepening with satisfaction as he slipped his hand between her thighs and discovered the drenching sweetness of her arousal.

He could not wait, and swiftly donned protection before joining her on the bed. The mattress dipped as he positioned himself over her and pushed her legs wider apart. He surged forward, rubbing the sensitive tip of his manhood against her until she opened for him. She was tighter than he had expected, and as she tensed he hesitated, confused by the sudden flare of panic in her eyes. He frowned and drew back a little, but already her muscles were stretching to accommodate him, drawing him into a velvet embrace so that he could think of nothing but thrusting into her again, deeper this time, so that he filled her with his swollen shaft.

Tahlia’s muscles had clenched at the realisation that Thanos was about to join his body with hers. She had always dreamed that this moment would be special, that she would give her virginity to the man she loved. A wave of intense sadness surged up inside her, but there was no time to think or refuse him, and her eyes widened in shock as she felt the hard length of his arousal push insistently against her femininity. She had no choice but to accept him into her.

To her surprise there was no pain, just an unfamiliar feeling of fullness, and she released her breath on a shaky sigh as he drew back a little and then eased forward once more, until their bodies were locked together in the most intimate embrace of all. Thanos was part of her. She had given herself to him. In some deep and elemental way she was now his for all time, she thought wonderingly as he moved inside her, setting a rhythm that she knew instinctively would take her to somewhere wonderful but as yet remained frustratingly out of reach.

Thanos slid his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her hips, driving into her with faster, deeper strokes. There was no tenderness in his actions. This was sex at its most basic, Tahlia acknowledged, urgent and hungry, driving them both towards the edge. She was dimly aware that her breath was coming in shallow gasps, and when she opened her eyes she saw that Thanos’s face was a rigid mask, the cords on his neck standing out as he drove relentlessly into her.

‘Don’t stop…don’t stop…’ She was unaware of her urgent cries, her whole being concentrated on the insistent throbbing deep in her pelvis.

Thanos snatched a harsh breath, fighting for control, but the battle had been lost from the moment he had penetrated Tahlia’s body and found her tight and hot and utterly irresistible. To his utter shock he realised that he could not hold back. It had never happened to him before, this complete loss of self-control, but he could not help it. His mind and body were focused on reaching that magical place where he would experience the release he craved, and with one final savage thrust his control shattered. A primal groan of male satisfaction was wrenched from his throat as his whole body convulsed with pleasure.

For a few moments he remained slumped on top of her, his chest heaving as he dragged oxygen into his lungs. He was still stunned by what had happened, by the tidal wave that had swept through him and demolished his restraint so that he had selfishly snatched his own pleasure.

Shame seared him, and he lifted his head to stare down at her.

‘I’m sorry,’ he grated harshly.

‘For what?’ she whispered.

‘Don’t you know?’ He frowned, puzzled by the look of genuine confusion in her eyes. It could not possibly have been her first time, he reminded himself forcefully. He had evidence that she had been James Hamilton’s mistress. Her air of innocence was an illusion. Yet he could not forget her expression when he had first thrust into her, the fleeting fear in her eyes that had been replaced by a look of wonderment. Could it be that she had never experienced an orgasm with any of her previous lovers and so did not know what she had missed?

His male pride was hurt by the knowledge that he had been no better than the other men she had slept with. Driven by his overpowering need for satisfaction he had been impatient, had come before she had climaxed. He rolled off her, propped himself up on one elbow, and skimmed his hand lightly over her stomach, down to the cluster of gold curls between her legs. His mouth curved into a small smile when he felt the tremor that ran through her. His hunger for her had overwhelmed him, but now he was sated—temporarily, at least, he acknowledged wryly as his body stirred—and he knew that with patience he could bring her to the peak of ecstasy.

He lowered his head to her breast and flicked his tongue lazily across her swollen nipple, heard her sharply indrawn breath when he drew the reddened crest fully into his mouth and suckled her. She twisted her hips restlessly, and he smiled again against her skin as he moved to her other breast and meted out the same exquisite torture before trailing his lips down over her flat stomach.

‘Thanos…? Tahlia murmured uncertainly when he pushed her legs apart. The knowledge that he was looking intently at the most intimate part of her body was shockingly arousing, and the dragging sensation in her pelvis, which had eased when he had withdrawn from her, uncoiled in a sharp tug of desire. ‘No!’

Too late she realised his intention, and gripped his hair, but his tongue was already probing between her silken folds the sensations he was arousing so utterly incredible that her cry of denial faltered.

‘Relax, and I will show you what you’ve clearly been denied by your previous lovers,’ he promised thickly.

Mortified, she tried to bring her legs together. But he held them apart and dipped his head once more, the skilled flick of his tongue making her whimper with pleasure. ‘You can’t,’ she pleaded. But he could, and did, and when his lips closed around the tiny, ultra-sensitive nub of her clitoris she sobbed his name and dug her nails into his shoulders, clinging to him as ripples of delight began deep inside her.

He moved swiftly to position himself over her, lifted her hips and drove his powerful erection deep into her, thrusting fast and hard and driving her ever upwards. And now she was almost there, at the place she had sensed the first time he had made love to her. He withdrew almost completely, and then sank into her so deeply that their bodies imploded simultaneously. She gave a startled cry as she experienced wave after wave of ecstasy crashing through her, causing her entire body to tremble with the power of a storm, before slowly ebbing away to leave her spent and utterly replete in his arms.

Dear heaven, she had never known it would be so…so awesome, so astounding. She could not find the words. She curved her hands around Thanos’s back, loving the feel of his satiny sweat-slicked skin beneath her palms. He was lying on top of her, his body lax and heavy, but she did not want him to move. The erratic beat of his heart thundering in unison with hers was strangely comforting. Was it possible that in the shattering moments of his climax he had experienced the same feeling that had swamped her—a feeling that their souls had united and soared to a place that was uniquely theirs?

It was just sex, she told herself—awesome, amazing sex. Although admittedly she did not have any other experience to compare it with. But surely it was nothing more than the pairing of two people who were held in the thrall of a powerful sexual chemistry? It would be stupid to allow her emotions to become involved, yet she felt a bond with him that went far beyond the physical intimacy they had shared.

Thanos finally rolled onto his back and stared blindly up at the ceiling, more stunned than he cared to admit by the power of the passion they had just shared, the feeling of oneness that he had never experienced with any other woman. It made no sense. He despised Tahlia, and his contempt for her had intensified when she had agreed to sell herself to him. But instead of telling her what he thought of her he had succumbed to the temptation of her fragile beauty and taken her to bed. Lust had made a fool of him, and now his hatred of himself threatened to choke him. He was no better than his father, he acknowledged bitterly. Kosta Savakis had fallen for the charms of an immoral woman and had abandoned his family for his mistress. And now he, Thanos, had sacrificed his self-respect and had sex with the woman who had broken his sister’s heart.

He had bought her, he reminded himself grimly as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, not sparing her a glance as he strode into the en suite bathroom. Tahlia was a whore, and he was paying a fortune for her. It would have been damnably disappointing if the sex hadn’t been good. He stood beneath the shower, but the powerful spray did nothing to ease his tension. Sex with Tahlia hadn’t just been good, it had been the best he’d ever had, he conceded. He was already hardening again, anticipation licking through his veins as he snatched a towel and roughly dried his body.

But when he returned to the bedroom he discovered her curled up beneath the sheet, one hand beneath her cheek, her long gold lashes making crescents against her flushed skin. Once again he was struck by her air of innocence, and something indefinable tugged in his gut when he saw a single tear slip silently down her face. The sight of her vulnerability shook him to the core, and in moment of absolute clarity his brain finally accepted what his soul had instinctively known when he had joined his body with hers. He was aware of a curious drumming in his ears, and realised that it was the sound of his blood pounding through his veins. His logical mind grasped at straws, recalling all the tabloid stories he had read about her torrid love-life, but when she lifted her lashes and he saw the hurt in her eyes his heart accepted the truth.

‘You were a virgin, weren’t you?’ he said quietly.

She did not reply, but the sudden flare of colour on her pale cheeks filled him with guilt and remorse, and a whole host of other emotions he could not define.

Anger at his crass stupidity swept through him, and his throat felt as though he had swallowed glass as he rasped, ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me?’