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‘Yes,’ he said softly, ‘we did. And given that you were a virgin I’m assuming that you aren’t protected by any form of contraception?’
Her heart stumbled.
Pregnant? It hadn’t even occurred to her that she might become pregnant. For a moment she forgot he was standing there as she considered that possibility. After her own childhood she’d never thought that she’d—
‘I’ll take your silence as a no,’ he drawled softly, and she was silent for a moment as she did some rapid calculations in her head.
‘It will be fine,’ she muttered finally, her cheeks blossoming with colour because this was one topic she wasn’t used to discussing with a man. ‘So you don’t need to think what you’re thinking.’
‘What am I thinking?’
‘That I’ve set the ultimate honey trap.’ She looked him in the eye, her expression fierce. ‘Even if I were pregnant, I wouldn’t take money from you.’
‘Let’s not argue about an issue which might never arise. The more pressing concern is what we do in the short term.’
‘You’re going to let me leave the island.’
His exasperated glance suggested that he wasn’t used to people defying him. ‘Whatever you may think of me, I’m not in the habit of indulging in careless sex regardless of the consequences.’
‘So why did you with me?’
His dark eyes fastened on hers. ‘I have been asking myself that same question for the past few hours. I’m sure the answer will come to me in time.’
She shrank as she imagined how much he must now be regretting his uncharacteristic lack of control. It was all too easy to imagine him calculating what that one awkward lapse was going to cost him in terms of money and adverse publicity. ‘Well, anyway, it doesn’t change the facts. I need to leave.’
‘My father was kind to you.’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you must stay. You owe him this favour.’
She stared at him helplessly. ‘That’s not fair—’
‘I don’t play fair, Chantal,’ he said softly. ‘I play to win.’
She closed her eyes and tried to find the steely streak she needed to refuse. ‘I can’t—’
‘His health is fragile. You have the ability to make him happy. Can you deprive him of that?’
She opened her eyes. ‘You’re totally ruthless, aren’t you?’
‘Focused.’
She turned her head away, feeling as though she were a leaf caught in a hurricane. The force of his personality was too powerful to resist.
‘I don’t see how my presence will really help him…’ But she was wavering and he sensed it, moving in for the kill like a lion spotting a wonded antelope.
‘Your presence could make all the difference to his recovery.’
She wanted to say no, but she couldn’t forget the kindness his father had shown her.
‘All right.’ The words were dragged from her lips. ‘I’ll stay—’
‘Of course you will.’ Clearly supremely confident of his own negotiation skills, he didn’t look surprised by her decision.
‘—But only if you let me pay you.’
‘I don’t understand your desire to be independent.’
‘It isn’t about independence—’ She broke off, realising that if she stuck by that claim then she’d have to explain herself. And she had no intention of doing that. He already knew far too much about her.
His dark eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t want your money.’
‘Take it,’ she said fiercely. ‘Or I’m going home right now.’
He studied her in silence, his expression unreadable. ‘All right. If it makes you happy.’ With economy of movement he reached for the roll of notes and slipped it into his pocket. ‘So, now that problem is solved you can unpack your suitcase. My father is waiting for us on the terrace. Why don’t you change and then join us?’
It was only after he’d strode from the room that Chantal realised they still hadn’t discussed what had happened in the pool.
‘I’m not that hungry,’ Costas protested as Chantal spooned a small helping of roasted peppers onto his plate.
‘They’re delicious,’ she enthused. ‘You just have to try them. Just a mouthful.’
‘Women.’ Costas sighed and picked up his fork. ‘They never let a man rest.’
‘You can rest later.’ She helped herself to a different dish, examining the contents closely. ‘What’s this?’
‘Fasoláda—kidney beans baked in the oven with vegetables, herbs and olive oil. It’s delicious. Try it.’
‘Only if you try some, too.’ Her smile engaging, she spooned a small amount onto his plate and watched while he ate. ‘Well?’
‘It’s good.’
Feeling like a spare part, Angelos watched as she cleverly coaxed his father to eat, selecting small quantities of healthy food for him to try.
Only when she was satisfied that he’d eaten something did she turn her attentions to her own plate. After several mouthfuls she smiled at his father. ‘You’re right, it is delicious. I’d swim through a shark-infested pond to eat this again.’
His father laughed with delight and reached for another dish. ‘If you think that’s good, then you should try this one—’
The two of them were like excited children and Angelos watched as his father flirted outrageously with Chantal.
Now that he knew she wasn’t Isabelle Ducat, he was noticing things he should have noticed before. Like the fact that she didn’t actually flirt. No simpering, no hair tossing, no lowered lashes. Nothing, in fact, that could be described as flirtatious. She just had an open, friendly attitude.
He remembered that night of the ball, and recalled that one of the things about her he’d found so attractive was that she’d been so different from everyone around her.
She’d shown a cheeky sense of humour, a playfulness that was quite different from flirting.
It was no wonder his father had liked her.
And no wonder that she was having such a powerful effect on him.
He’d never been so aware of a woman. The curve of her mouth when she smiled; the slight dimple at the corner of her mouth, the light that appeared in her eyes when she laughed.
And then there was her body…At that point he found his descriptive powers severely challenged. All he knew was that she appeared to have been designed specifically to distract a man from whatever path he was taking.
Suddenly he couldn’t wait for dinner to end so that he could finish what they’d started in the pool.
Trying not to dwell on the fact that Angelos had barely spoken to her over dinner, Chantal stepped into the shower. In the end she’d left him on the terrace with his father, both of them engrossed in an unintelligible conversation about the Far Eastern money markets.
And now she stood under the sharp jets of water, satisfied that Costas had at least eaten something. She just needed to make sure that he did that at every mealtime.
Reaching for one of the fluffy towels that were piled in uniform rows, Chantal walked out of the shower and into the bedroom.
Angelos was sprawled on the bed, talking in rapid Greek into his mobile phone.
Shocked to see him there, she was about to retreat into the bathroom when he noticed her and ended the call with a decisive stab of one long finger. ‘You were so long I was about to join you in the shower.’
‘What are you doing in my bedroom?’
‘Our bedroom, agape mou,’ he drawled softly, extending a hand in her direction. ‘Come to bed.’
She clutched the towel. ‘What for?’
His eyes shimmered with amusement. ‘I understand that you’re inexperienced, but surely not that inexperienced.’
Chantal didn’t move. ‘You’re suggesting that we share a bed?’
‘Generally that’s what happens.’ Dark lashes veiled his expression and she felt her tummy jump like a grasshopper.
‘But you—I—’ She broke off. ‘It was a one off.’
‘I don’t do “one-offs”. I’ve already told you, casual affairs are not my style.’
‘But that’s ridiculous—we hardly know each other.’
‘On the contrary. We know each other in the most literal and intimate sense of the word,’ he drawled, and she felt the colour flood into her cheeks.
‘That’s different. Neither of us was thinking.’
‘Sex doesn’t generally require a great deal of intellectual input.’
Her heart was pounding against her chest. ‘But you didn’t even enjoy it,’ she blurted out impulsively. ‘You were really bored.’
‘Bored?’ Incredulous dark eyes swept her flushed cheeks. ‘At what point, precisely, did I appear to be bored?’
‘Afterwards—when you didn’t once mention it.’
‘I’ve always considered sex to be more of a practical than an academic subject. More about doing than talking.’ His voice was deep and impossibly sexy. ‘And at the time we had rather more pressing topics to discuss—such as your identity. Call me old-fashioned, but my preference is always to at least know the name of the person with whom I’ve been intimate.’ He sprang off the bed and strolled towards her, a look of intent on his handsome face.
As his hand slid decisively around her wrist, her bones melted away like chocolate over a flame. ‘Angelos—’
‘I like the way you say my name,’ he purred, sliding his other hand behind her neck and drawing her towards him. ‘And for the next few hours that’s the only word I want to hear from you. I’m tired of talking.’
She opened her mouth to give him all the reasons why she had no intention of doing this, but he was standing so close that a helpless rush of excitement engulfed her. It was like being in the path of a red-hot lava flow.
Her body was trembling with delicious anticipation and she gave a moan and swayed towards him. He brought his mouth down on hers and his powerful body urged her back towards the bed, his hand divesting her of the towel just seconds before she tumbled back onto the mattress.
He came down on top of her with single-minded intent, his heated gaze devouring every detail of her trembling naked body.
A frantic mixture of desperation and embarrassment, Chantal squirmed under his frank appraisal. What if he didn’t like what he saw? ‘Angelos—’
Clearly suffering none of the inhibitions she suffered, his eyes drifted back to hers and he lowered his head once again. ‘You really are incredibly beautiful,’ he groaned, and this time when he kissed her it was like dropping a burning match into a barrel of gunpowder. Her insides exploded in a shower of agonising sensation and she dug her nails into the firm muscle of his shoulders, so unbelievably aroused that she couldn’t really grasp what was happening to her.
He controlled her utterly, completely sure of himself as he turned his attention to her breasts, using his fingers and his mouth with such erotic expertise that the heat inside her grew to hazardous levels.
She was burning. Every single inch of her body was sizzling and smouldering. She lifted her hips in frantic demand and expectation.
His fingers slid lower, skimming her abdomen and resting just short of this ultimate destination. The fact that he was still capable of control when she had none might have been humiliating, but she no longer cared. She was just too desperate to care.
‘Am I the first man to touch you?’ His husky demand penetrated her dazed brain.
‘Yes, yes—’ But he hadn’t touched her yet, had he? And if he didn’t do it soon she thought she might explode, because it wasn’t possible to be any more aroused than she was at that moment. ‘Angelos—please—’
He gave a satisfied smile and stripped off his boxer shorts. ‘I have never wanted a woman as much as I want you. You’re mine. Exclusively.’ It was an unashamed statement of possession but she didn’t even care.
Confronted by the breathtaking vision of Angelos naked, she felt her mouth dry and her excitement levels shoot higher still.
He was magnificent: his shoulders broad, his abdomen flat and as for the rest of him—
Reminding herself that they’d already done it once, and everything had fitted, Chantal gasped as she felt his hair-roughened thigh brush against her.
Why didn’t he touch her?
What was he waiting for?
The ache inside her was almost painful and she arched against him, unconsciously begging for his touch, aware that he was torturing her on purpose.
At last his fingers moved, brushing through the soft curls that protected her soft, damp core. And then finally he touched her where she was longing to be touched, and his fingers were so impossibly sure and skilful that she immediately shot into an orgasm so intense that she couldn’t breathe. Consumed by sensation, she sobbed his name—and then whimpered in disbelief as he pulled her beneath him and surged into her with propulsive force, taking her with long, hard strokes that launched her into the outer reaches of ecstasy.
Out of her mind with excitement, Chantal clutched at his shoulders, his primal possession starting up a chain reaction that was outside her control. Without having time to breathe or recover she was plunged straight into another orgasm, her body tightening around his, driving him to his own peak. The sudden increase in masculine thrust sent her over the edge yet again, so that this time they exploded together, both of them consumed by the same fire.
In the aftermath she lay shocked and stunned and he smoothed her hair away from her face with a surprisingly gentle hand. ‘You are amazing—’
She was just about to point out that he was the one who had made it all happen when his fingers began another extremely intimate exploration.
With a moan of excitement and disbelief, she gazed at him in a state of helpless abandon. ‘You can’t mean to do it again—’
‘You’re so innocent. I love the fact that this is all new to you. You have much to learn, agape mou,’ he said huskily, ‘and I am delighted to be the one to teach you.’
