Читать книгу Ruthless Revenge: Sinful Seduction - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 11

CHAPTER TWO

HE WAS INSANE. Clearly crazy to kiss this utter innocent, and yet from the moment Alekos’s lips touched Iolanthe’s he knew he was lost. The sweetness of her response was his undoing; she tensed briefly under his kiss, clearly shocked, one hand fluttering up to clutch at his lapel, and then her mouth opened under his like a flower and he drank of its sweet nectar.

Distantly he heard her gasp in surprise as his tongue swept into her mouth, claiming its softness. Her hand clenched his jacket and the mask dropped from her other hand as her body yielded to his.

Alekos was barely aware of his actions as he backed her up against the balustrade, his hands sliding down the slippery satin of her dress to anchor on her hips and bring her even closer to his arousal.

Another gasp, and far too belatedly he realised what he was doing, practically thrusting his hips against hers. He tore his mouth from hers with a gasp of his own, swearing under his breath as he eased away from her.

‘Iolanthe...’ She looked up at him, her mouth swollen, her eyes dazed. Without her mask in place she was even lovelier, her skin like ivory blushed with pink, her eyes luminous. Alekos swore again. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.’

Iolanthe touched her fingers to her lips. ‘What did you mean to happen?’ she asked with a soft laugh, and relief pulsed through him at the realisation that he had not scared or horrified her.

‘I wasn’t thinking,’ he admitted as he stooped to retrieve her mask. ‘I intended to walk away from you after our dance, but...’ He stopped, reluctant to admit how much this slip of a woman affected him. How much he wanted her.

‘I’m glad you didn’t,’ Iolanthe said. She glanced up at him, her eyes bright, her smile shy. ‘That was my first kiss.’

He’d suspected as much, and yet her confirmation made him feel even worse. He’d been halfway to deflowering an innocent virgin, hardly his style at all. This needed to end. Now.

He handed her the scrap of mask; she took it without putting it back to her face. She was looking at him with such open expectation he could hardly bear to meet her gaze. ‘I should take you back into the ballroom—’

‘Don’t, please.’ She laid a hand on his chest, and even that gentle touch had Alekos’s blood surging again. ‘I don’t want to go back there.’

‘Someone else will ask you to dance—’

‘I don’t want someone else.’ Her eyes darkened. ‘Besides, I’ll just feel inadequate compared to all those glamorous socialites.’

‘You should never feel inadequate,’ Alekos answered. ‘You were the most beautiful woman in the room.’

‘Then stay out here on the terrace with the most beautiful woman,’ Iolanthe challenged. Her hand pressed lightly on his chest. ‘Please.’

* * *

Iolanthe didn’t know what had come over her, to make her proposition a man so boldly. Perhaps it was desperation—she couldn’t stand the thought of him taking her back to the ball, and having Lukas swoop down once more as her keeper. Or perhaps it was Alekos’s kiss that had given her courage—perhaps it had changed her. That moment had felt more like fire than magic, singeing her senses, making her come alive in a way she hadn’t even known she could. She wanted him to kiss her again, but she wasn’t that bold. Yet.

‘Iolanthe...?’

She tensed, her heart seeming to plummet inside her, as she heard Lukas’s familiar, nasal voice. No. Go away, Lukas.

‘Are you...?’ Lukas stepped through the windows, stopping when he saw her with Alekos. Iolanthe dropped her hand from Alekos’s chest, surprise flaring within her when he stayed it, trapping it with his own, his long, lean fingers wrapping around hers.

‘Yes?’ he enquired pleasantly, half turning to face Lukas.

Lukas frowned and nodded at Iolanthe. ‘Your father wants me to stay with you.’

Of course he did. Her father had made it clear he’d like to see her with Lukas, but surely she had some choice in the matter. Some say in her life.

‘Iolanthe...?’ Lukas prompted. Iolanthe glanced up at Alekos; he did not look encouraging. His mouth was set in a hard line, a muscle flickering in his jaw. He dropped her hand.

‘You should go,’ he said flatly and she tried not to let the hurt show on her face. Had he bored of her so easily?

‘Iolanthe,’ Lukas said again, his voice insistent now, and, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do, Iolanthe stepped away from Alekos. For a second she thought she saw regret flicker in his eyes, and her own resolve wavered. If he said anything to convince her to stay, she would, and damn the consequences.

Then Alekos’s expression hardened once more and he looked away as Iolanthe fitted her mask to her face and Lukas led her from the terrace.

‘Your father wants us to dance again,’ Lukas stated, and Iolanthe glanced at him with weary frustration. She did not want to dance with this man. She certainly didn’t want to marry him. But perhaps if she endured a few dances, she’d find a way to escape again. To find Alekos and experience that magic that had made her feel as if life held far more possibility than she’d dared dream.

‘All right,’ she said, trying not to cringe away from Lukas’s slightly damp hand. Alekos’s hand had been warm and dry and strong, and he’d moved her around the dance floor with almost arrogant assurance. Lukas’s careful, mechanical steps made Iolanthe want to stamp on his foot, or, better yet, flounce away from the dance floor.

She did neither, enduring not one but three dances with Lukas while he shuffled about stoically, barely engaging her in conversation as her gaze moved around the crowded ballroom, searching for that familiar, dominant figure. She didn’t see him, and the hope and excitement that had made her insides fizz began to trickle away.

Several hours later Iolanthe’s feet were aching along with her heart. She’d danced and then stood with Lukas while he talked business with various guests, always keeping an eye on her, clearly having no intention of allowing her to slip away from him again. She hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of Alekos. Clearly he’d had enough of her. Innocence was probably interesting only for so long.

Now the ball was ending, guests streaming out of the hotel towards the queue of waiting limos and luxury sedans.

‘Where is my father?’ Iolanthe asked Lukas.

‘He’s coming shortly. He wants us to wait.’

Iolanthe sighed, wanting only to go home to bed. The excitement of attending her first ball had gone completely flat now that she knew she wouldn’t see Alekos again. She was Cinderella minus a glass slipper, and soon she’d be left in rags with a pumpkin for a carriage. And Lukas for a husband. She suppressed a shudder at the thought.

Lukas checked his phone, frowning. ‘Your father needs me in a meeting.’

‘A meeting at two in the morning?’ Iolanthe knew she shouldn’t be surprised. Her father had always worked long hours. He often stayed in Athens for months at a time, returning to his country estate only for the most cursory of visits.

‘I’ll be back shortly,’ Lukas told her. ‘You should wait inside.’

Disheartened beyond all measure, Iolanthe watched Lukas stride away before she turned back to the hotel’s opulent lobby. With her feet aching in her new shoes and her body throbbing disconsolately from the memory of Alekos’s touch, she felt more alone than she had in a long while. More lonely, and with nothing to look forward to.

She was about to sink into one of the elegant armchairs gracing the marble-floored space when her whole body stiffened with awareness, every sense coming exquisitely alive as Alekos walked out of the hotel’s bar.

She started towards him instinctively, one hand outstretched, her sense of loneliness evaporating in the sudden, demanding need to see him, speak to him, touch him—

Iolanthe didn’t care how reckless or desperate she seemed to him or anyone else. She had waited her whole life, and in that moment she was sure it had been for this. For a future that didn’t look like a prison cell, a possibility of excitement and adventure. For Alekos.

* * *

Alekos had spent the last two hours drinking steadily in the hotel’s bar. So much so that while he wasn’t precisely drunk, he questioned the vision of loveliness in front of him, thinking he must have imagined Iolanthe into being. He’d certainly been thinking about her enough, though he’d tried not to.

He’d watched from the edge of the ballroom as she’d danced with that wet blanket of a keeper, a man who seemed ill at ease in his own body, shuffling his feet and holding Iolanthe awkwardly.

Then when Alekos could bear no more he’d headed for the bar. He couldn’t stand seeing Iolanthe with anyone, even someone as unthreatening as her buffoonish dance partner. He couldn’t shake the deep-seated feeling that she was his, that no one else could touch her. He’d been her first kiss, and he wanted to be even more. Somehow Iolanthe, this innocent sprite, had branded herself on his soul, reminded him of what he’d once been like, what life was like when you held on to happiness and hope. When you believed good things could happen.

And now she was here, real and alive, her face suffused with happiness at the mere sight of him.

‘Alekos...’ Iolanthe whispered, her mouth curving into a smile of pure joy as she reached out one hand to touch him.

Alekos responded instinctively to her unhidden response, even as he acknowledged that she made no sense. He was a stranger who wanted her body. Didn’t she realise that? Didn’t she understand how dangerous he was to her well-being?

Alekos wrapped his hand around hers to keep her from touching him, and realised instantly that he’d made a mistake. Instead of pushing her away, he merely pulled her closer, finding it impossible to resist her enchanting allure.

‘I thought you’d left.’ His voice came out low and gravelly, harsh with wanting.

‘No, not yet.’ She spoke in a breathless whisper, her eyes shining. ‘I’m so happy to see you again.’

Briefly Alekos closed his eyes. Iolanthe had no idea what such heartfelt honesty did to him. ‘Iolanthe...’

‘When I didn’t see you at the ball, I thought you’d tired of me.’ She nibbled her lip, appalled realisation swamping her eyes. ‘That is, you haven’t, have you...?’

‘No. I haven’t.’ Although God knew he should have. She was inexperienced, innocent, dull. For both their sakes she had to be. The alternative was breaking her heart and shattering her naïve hopes as he took what he so desperately craved from her and then walked away as he knew he would. As he had to. He took a deep breath. ‘I was just about to go upstairs.’

‘Upstairs?’

‘I have a suite at the hotel.’ For the last four years he’d been living in Corinth, close to his factory and warehouses, making sure security was tight and all technical information highly classified. He would not have an invention stolen from him a second time. Taking a suite for the evening of the ball had been expedient.

‘You do?’ Her eyes widened and Alekos saw the suggestion in them as clearly as if she’d verbalised it. And he realised, to his own shame, that he’d mentioned the suite because he wanted her there. Of course he did.

‘You could come up for a drink,’ he said gruffly, well aware he was plunging down a road he had no business to tread for a single step. One drink. A kiss or two. And then he would let her go. For ever.

‘All right,’ she agreed shyly, and Alekos wondered if she even knew what she was getting into...or if he did.

* * *

Iolanthe spared no more than a fleeting thought for Lukas and her father before stepping into the lift with Alekos. Maybe she was being foolish, even stupid. And if not that, then reckless and wanton. Right then she didn’t care. This felt like her only chance at happiness. She and Alekos had a connection; even he acknowledged it.

If she didn’t go with him now, the prison doors would close for ever.

Tonight was for magic.

Alekos ushered her out of the lift and down a long, plushly carpeted hall, before he swiped his key card at the door at the end, and then swung the door open to reveal a luxurious suite with floor-to-ceiling views of the Acropolis.

Iolanthe’s breath came out in a rush as she stepped into the open-plan living area of the elegant space, barely noticing the leather sofas and ebony and teak coffee tables as awareness rippled over her skin and alarm twisted in her stomach.

What was she doing here?

‘A drink,’ Alekos said, and went to the minibar tucked in a corner of the room. Iolanthe dropped her bag and mask on a nearby sofa, unease and excitement warring within her. This was dangerous, crazy—and also incredibly exciting. Common sense told her she should bolt, and yet she stayed put. She couldn’t bear the thought of the evening ending, the doors slamming shut on her future. And she wanted Alekos to kiss her again.

Alekos took a bottle of champagne from the little fridge and held it out to her. ‘Seems appropriate, don’t you think?’

‘I suppose.’ She’d only tasted champagne a few times in her life.

Alekos popped the cork, the sound a mini explosion in the stillness of the room, and then poured them each a flute. He handed one to Iolanthe and she took it with numb fingers. ‘Gia sou.’

‘Gia sou,’ she whispered, and drank. The bubbles fizzed up her nose, making her cough. Alekos arched an eyebrow and Iolanthe tried for a laugh. ‘Sorry. I never seem to get the hang of champagne.’

‘Innocent in this as in everything else.’

Something about his tone made her prickle defensively. ‘I can’t help being innocent.’

‘Well I know it.’

She cocked her head, noting the way his eyes had narrowed and his mouth had firmed. Did he not want her here? Did he regret asking her up? She couldn’t bear the thought. ‘What is it?’ she asked unsteadily. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘Because you shouldn’t be here,’ Alekos said, the words harsh and unrelenting, confirming her fears. ‘I shouldn’t have asked you up here. You don’t know what you’re getting into, Iolanthe.’

A thrill ran through her, and to her surprise Iolanthe recognised it as excitement rather than fear. ‘What if I do know?’ she dared to ask.

Alekos took a step closer to her. ‘Do you?’ he returned, his voice low; Iolanthe couldn’t tell if his words were a threat or an invitation. Maybe both.

And the truth was, she didn’t know. At least she recognised that much. She knew what happened between men and women, she understood the basics of sex, but this...desire was utterly new to her. And completely intoxicating. She couldn’t leave. Not now, not when Alekos was offering such a tantalising glimpse of a new world, a world she’d only dreamed of and read about in books. She’d wanted a kiss, but even she in her innocence recognised the look of blatant intent in Alekos’s eyes, and knew he was thinking of far more than a kiss.

And what of it? The rest of her life would be one shackled to duty. Why not allow herself one night of pleasure—and maybe it could become more? Maybe, she thought with sudden, dizzying hope, Alekos could be a suitable husband for her. Why not?

Why shouldn’t this be the beginning of everything?

She met his hot gaze, if not fearlessly, then at least with determination. With desire. And she shuddered when he reached his hand out and stroked her cheek.

‘So soft,’ he murmured. He looked as dazed as she felt. He wanted this as much as she did. The realisation was both thrilling and terrifying, and Iolanthe met it full on. Here was her future. Her hope.

‘Kiss me,’ she whispered.

Alekos hesitated, and through the fog of her desire Iolanthe saw the conflict on his face, felt it in the way his fingers stilled on her cheek.

‘It doesn’t matter if I’m innocent,’ she said fiercely. ‘I don’t want to be innocent or naïve. I want to feel and taste and know. I want to be desired.’

‘You are,’ Alekos assured her raggedly, and then he drew her towards him, their bodies colliding in sweet harmony as his mouth came down on hers.

Iolanthe revelled in the touch of his lips against hers, everything in her jolting alive as his tongue swept into her mouth and his hands roved her body, leaving fire and longing in their wake. His palm cupped her breast and it felt as if he’d hotwired her soul. She’d never known you could feel like this. Want like this...

She clutched his shoulders, and then dared to smooth her hands down his shirt, her palms caressing the sculpted muscles beneath the crisp cotton. Alekos let out a groan as he tore his mouth from hers.

‘Iolanthe, you should leave now,’ he urged on a ragged gasp.

Leave now, when her senses were swimming and her body ached for his touch? When she felt as if everything was finally beginning? That was the last thing she wanted. She knew she was plunging down a road where there was no way back, but she didn’t want a way back. She wanted to dare to go ahead...with Alekos.

‘Let me stay,’ she whispered, and pressed her palms against his chest so she could feel the hard thud of his heart. ‘Please.’

His eyes glittered gold as he gazed down at her, his breathing coming in ragged bursts. ‘Do you realise what you’re asking?’ he demanded in a low voice.

A smile curved her mouth even as her heart lurched. ‘I’m not that innocent.’ Not quite. If Alekos took her innocence, she’d be ruined for another man. She knew that, at least in her head, but her heart was hammering with an insistence that this was right. This was her chance, and she had to take it.

‘We can’t...’ Alekos began, but Iolanthe thought he was waiting to be convinced. And so she would convince him.

‘We can.’ Standing on her tiptoes, she brushed her mouth against his, a butterfly kiss that had Alekos shuddering in response—and then kissing her back, his hands sliding to her hips to anchor her against his arousal as his tongue delved deep.

Iolanthe rocked against his hips, thrilling to his touch, to the knowledge that he desired her so powerfully. Her mind was a haze of need and sensation, and she quieted the distant voice that was telling her to stop, to see sense, to realise this could only be a mistake. She and Alekos had a connection, something precious and rare. Never mind that they’d only known each other a few hours. She felt it, and she knew he felt it as well.

‘If you’re sure,’ Alekos muttered, and in reply Iolanthe pressed herself closer still.

* * *

Alekos couldn’t think beyond the feel of Iolanthe’s slender body against his own. He felt as if she’d slipped into his senses; he couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman this way. So much so that all rational thought and self-control fled and his hands shook as he tugged at the zip on the back of her dress.

The sparkly satin, as white as a wedding dress, fell away to reveal her pale and perfect body underneath. Alekos released the breath he’d been holding in a low, slow exhalation as his gaze roved over her.

‘You are exquisite.’

Pink stained her cheeks but she did not try to hide herself. Her small, high breasts were encased in delicately scalloped lace, and the scrap of silk that passed for a pair of pants was transparent enough for him to see the soft darkness beneath. Everything in him longed to touch her.

Alekos took her hand and Iolanthe stepped out of the dress, the satin whispering about her slender legs. Her hands went to his chest, fingers fumbling on the studs of his shirt, her lovely brow puckered in concentration. With an impatient hiss of breath Alekos pulled them out himself and then shrugged out of the shirt, tossing his cummerbund aside.

Iolanthe’s mouth curved and her eyes glowed as she stroked his bare chest, her fingers teasing the crisp hair. ‘You’re exquisite,’ she said, and he laughed, the sound hoarse.

‘No one has ever called me that before.’

‘They should.’ With soft hands she stroked his chest and torso, down to the waistband of his trousers where she stopped shyly. ‘You’re beautiful, Alekos.’

‘Come to bed.’ Even through the fog of his desire Alekos saw the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes but then she came willingly, proudly even, her chin held high as she walked towards him, her hips swaying.

He should stop this. He knew he should stop this, before Iolanthe got hurt, before he was the one who hurt her. Then she lifted silvery eyes to his face, her whole expression one of acceptance and invitation and hope, and, with a suppressed groan, he took her hand and led her towards the bedroom.

* * *

The silken sheets were slippery and cool under Iolanthe’s naked body. Within seconds Alekos joined her on the bed, taking her into his arms. Somehow he’d become naked. She felt the hard muscles of his chest, the rough hair of his legs, and, most excitingly, the insistent throb of his erection, all against her. It was almost too much sensation, short-circuiting her thought processes, so all she could do was feel and respond.

Iolanthe arched against him, sucking in a shocked breath as his hands skimmed her most private places. No one had ever touched her so intimately, and then more intimately still as Alekos’s hand stroked between her legs and pleasure flared.

‘You like that?’ he murmured huskily.

‘Yes.’ She buried her head in his neck, embarrassed by her own overwhelming reaction. Alekos continued to touch her with such sure expertise that it wasn’t long before her body was acting of its own accord, legs parting, hips thrusting as she sought the apex of the pleasure he gave her.

She’d only just reached that shining pinnacle, her body shuddering with the force of a climax that shocked her with its intensity, when Alekos was poised over her, his arousal nudging her thighs, his face drawn into harsh lines and angles.

‘Iolanthe...’

‘Yes.’ She arched upwards, accepting him into her body, craving him all the more. Even so, that first tender invasion made her gasp, her body stiffening against the unfamiliar sensation.

Alekos stilled, his breath coming in tearing gasps as he waited for her to adjust to the feel of him. ‘Is this—?’

‘It’s fine.’ She breathed in deeply, letting the sense of completeness flood her senses. ‘It’s good.’ And it was good, wonderful even, as she reeled at the newness and strangeness of it, understanding instinctively that she had crossed a threshold and could never go back. She was innocent no longer.

Then Alekos began to move inside her and thoughts fled her mind as she matched his rhythm, pleasure beginning to build once more, higher and higher, until she was crying out as she clutched his shoulders.

Alekos let out a groan as his body shuddered inside her, his head buried in the curve of her neck as Iolanthe closed her eyes and gave herself up to pleasure.

* * *

Alekos rolled off her, one arm thrown across his face as the last of his climax shuddered through him.

What had he done?

What had he been thinking, taking Iolanthe’s virginity? He hadn’t even used birth control. All he could think was that some sort of madness had gripped him, holding him in its thrall all evening. And now that his body was finally sated, his mind acknowledged the disastrous consequences of his actions, and regret and remorse replaced the lust that had overwhelmed him so utterly.

He’d taken something from her he’d had no right to take, no matter that they’d both been compliant, eager even. He bore the responsibility, the blame.

Alekos lowered his arm and glanced at Iolanthe. She lay on her back, her face flushed, a damp tendril of ink-black hair curling against her cheek. Her eyes were closed, but they fluttered open as if she sensed his scrutiny, and her hesitant gaze clashed with his as she bit her lip.

‘I’m sorry,’ Alekos said in a low voice. Iolanthe flinched.

‘Sorry?’ she repeated, her voice wobbling. ‘Why?’

Alekos heaved a sigh. ‘I shouldn’t have done this. It was my fault entirely.’

Her eyes flashed. ‘Did I have no say in it, then?’

Alekos smiled tiredly, heartened to see that she could show some spirit despite their situation. ‘Perhaps, but you are young—’

‘Stop telling me how young I am.’ She scrambled up to a sitting position, reaching for the rumpled sheet to clutch to her chest. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders and, although her eyes still flashed, her lips trembled. ‘I’m twenty.’ Six years younger than him. Alekos felt a stab of pity mixed with shameful irritation. He didn’t want her tears. ‘I don’t regret anything,’ she said defiantly. ‘Maybe we rushed things, but it doesn’t change how I feel.’

Alekos stilled, his gaze narrowing as his insides iced. ‘How you feel?’ he repeated neutrally.

‘Yes...’ Iolanthe’s fingers clenched on the sheet. ‘We...we have a connection, Alekos.’ She nodded towards the still-warm bed. ‘Obviously.’

‘A sexual connection,’ he clarified flatly. Iolanthe frowned.

‘Yes, but...it’s more than that, surely?’ Her teeth sank into her lip again as she gazed at him, and Alekos suppressed a groan at the uncertainty he saw there. The innocence and honesty that had mere hours ago intrigued and attracted him now only appalled.

He should have expected this. He had expected it, before he’d let his libido obliterate his brain. Iolanthe had confused sex with love. How could she have done otherwise, considering her inexperience?

The kindest thing, the only thing, to do was be blunt. Ruthless. Refuse to allow even the smallest bud of hope to be nurtured. Hope, he knew, was a cruel thing when it wasn’t warranted. And it wasn’t warranted with him.

Alekos rose from the bed and reached for his trousers, his back to her as he stated flatly, ‘It’s not more than that, Iolanthe. We desired one another physically. We had sex. That’s it.’ Each word felt like a grenade hurled into the room, ready to explode. From the bed Alekos heard an audible sniff and he closed his eyes, forcing back the acidic burn of regret. Another sniff.

Reaching for his shirt, Alekos turned to face Iolanthe. In the few seconds it had taken him to dress and turn around, she’d composed herself and now lifted her chin, her eyes giving away nothing save for a telltale sheen. She still clutched the sheet to her chest.

‘I see.’ She spoke with dignity, even if her voice wobbled, and Alekos felt a flicker of admiration for her strength of spirit. ‘So that’s it, then? You take my virginity and kick me to the door?’

‘You offered it,’ Alekos retorted before he could stop himself.

‘And you take what’s on offer, I suppose?’ Her lovely face contorted with contempt that cut him to the quick. ‘I’m really very stupid, aren’t I? I thought... I thought...’ She shook her head, self-disgust and sorrow evident on every line of her face.

Regret lashed at him, a painful scourge. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I knew what I was doing.’ She laughed, the sound harsh and high. ‘I thought you might be a suitable husband, one my father would approve of. But the thought probably appals you, doesn’t it?’

He found he couldn’t bear her self-mockery. ‘It doesn’t appal me.’

‘No? But you want me out of here as soon as possible. Inexperienced as I am, I recognise that much.’

‘I...’ Suddenly he felt flummoxed, unsure of what he wanted. He knew he didn’t want to hurt this lovely young woman.

‘Don’t worry.’ She cut across his floundering. ‘Let me get dressed and then I’ll go.’

‘I’m sorry if I misled you,’ Alekos said wretchedly. ‘You are very beautiful, Iolanthe, and charming. I’ve been enchanted by you all evening, and I’m sure you will ensnare a man in no time—’

‘Please spare me that pretty little speech,’ Iolanthe cut him off, her voice cold and clear. ‘I don’t wish to ensnare anyone. I am not a spider.’

‘Poor choice of words. I’m sorry.’

‘You seem very apologetic tonight.’ Iolanthe rose from the bed, the sheet wrapped around her, her cheeks flaring with colour.

‘I am. I shouldn’t have invited you up here, and I certainly shouldn’t have taken you to bed.’ Alekos took a deep breath. ‘We didn’t even use birth control.’

Iolanthe’s eyes widened with panic for a single second before her expression cleared. ‘Even I know how unlikely a pregnancy is after just one time.’

‘Yet still possible.’

Her fingers tightened on the sheet and she cocked her head, her narrowed gaze sweeping over him. ‘So what would happen if I was pregnant?’

Alekos hesitated. ‘I take my responsibilities seriously.’

‘Which means?’

His mouth firmed into a hard line. ‘We’ll address that situation if it occurs.’

‘How reassuring.’ She stalked out of the bedroom, nearly tripping over the edge of the sheet, and Alekos watched her go, caught between frustration and regret. He still couldn’t believe he’d lost control of himself so completely. What was it about her that had enflamed him so? Perhaps it had simply been a matter of needs must; he had not had a woman in his bed in months, thanks to his demanding work schedule. At this point he couldn’t imagine what else it could have been.

He walked into the sitting room of the suite; Iolanthe’s narrow back was to him as she struggled to fasten her bra.

‘Let me help—’

‘No.’ Her voice shook and she took a deep breath. ‘The kindest thing you can do is wait in the bedroom while I get myself out of here.’ Another breath. ‘Please.’ She slipped into her dress, struggling to zip it up even halfway.

‘I don’t want to leave you like this.’

‘But you want me to leave.’

For a second Alekos considered the alternative. Having her stay. Getting to know her. Marrying her, even. Then he thought of all the accompanying emotional risks and his heart shut that possibility right down. ‘Iolanthe, please. Let me take you home, at least.’

‘My father is waiting downstairs.’ She let out a high, trembling laugh. ‘And trust me, I don’t want him to know where I’ve been.’

‘Will you...will you be in trouble?’ Alekos asked in a low voice. It was the twenty-first century, after all. How shameful was it for a twenty-year-old woman to have sex? A twenty-year-old virgin who had told him her father would arrange her marriage?

Alekos closed his eyes in guilty regret. What the hell had he been thinking? He owed Iolanthe more than this. ‘Please, Iolanthe, let me help you.’

‘How?’ she demanded, and before Alekos could answer he heard voices from the hall and then, to his incredulous amazement, the door to the suite swung open. He blinked in stunned surprise at the sight of the man Iolanthe had been dancing with, and, behind him, Alekos’s nemesis, Talos Petrakis.

‘What the hell—?’ Alekos began, but he didn’t get a chance to say anything else for Petrakis’s burly bodyguards swarmed in and grabbed him, twisting his arms painfully behind his back.

‘Papa!’

In stunned horror Alekos watched Iolanthe move to her father, her arms outstretched.

‘Get behind me, Iolanthe,’ Petrakis said in a low voice, but Alekos didn’t hear what else the man said. Papa? Petrakis was Iolanthe’s father?

‘Deal with him,’ Petrakis bit out with a nod towards Alekos. The bodyguards started hustling him towards the door. Alekos struggled against them and received a sharp elbow in his kidneys for his pains.

‘I’m not a naïve university student any more,’ he grated as he continued to struggle to resist the two men. ‘You can’t treat me like this, Petrakis—’

Petrakis did not spare him so much as a glance. ‘Iolanthe,’ he said, and he put his arm around his daughter. ‘Come with me.’

The last thing Alekos saw was Iolanthe’s pale face as her father shepherded her away.