His eyes were on her, heavy, and it was a weight she could scarcely bear.
‘But what right have I, Ann—I who have only ever known wealth and ease and luxury, all my life, through no effort of my own, merely inheriting it—what right have I to condemn someone born to poverty for taking easy money when it came their way? Would I, Ann, in your position, have been any more virtuous? Would I have turned down the money dangled so temptingly in front of me so that I could live the rest of my life in poverty? Raising my sister’s orphaned child, giving up my life to my nephew just so that his rich uncle would not condemn me? Would I have been any better than you?’ He paused. ‘I would not like to be put to that test, Ann—as you were.’
Her mouth was working. She had to speak—had to! Had to tell him that—
But Nikos was speaking again. His voice was urgent, suddenly—persuasive. Compelling.
‘I want to put it behind us Ann. Nothing—nothing that I’ve seen of you, known of you, since you came to Sospiris—gives me any further cause to think ill of you. Indeed—’ his voice twisted ‘—you have even proved to me you do not have your sister’s morals when it comes to sex, haven’t you?’
She felt colour flare out
along her cheeks, felt Nikos’ gold-glinting eyes rest mordantly on her.
‘Was that the moment I was forced to rethink my opinion of you, Ann?’ he mused. ‘The moment you rejected the diamond necklace I wanted to give you, which I thought you would seize with both your greedy little hands? I didn’t want you to reject it—I wanted you to take it.’
‘Yes,’ she answered tightly, the colour still flaring in her cheeks. ‘I’m aware of that.’
His lips twitched. ‘Not because I wanted to confirm my low opinion of you, Ann. Because…’ The long lashes swept down again, making her breath catch though she shouldn’t let it—she shouldn’t, she mustn’t. ‘Because I wanted you back in my bed—any way I could get you there.’
His hand reached across the table. A single finger stroked along the back of her hand. She felt the lightness of his touch as if it were searing heat.
‘I still want you, Ann.’ His voice was low, intense.
The breath stilled in her lungs. She could not breathe, nor speak, though she should do both…
He was holding her with his gaze, as if her entire weight were suspended. Words came from him, seductive, sensuous.
‘You are so beautiful. So incredibly beautiful—’
His eyes swept over her, making her weak—so weak.
But she could not be weak—must not. However much her head was swirling with the same overwhelming emotion as when he had danced with her, taken her into his arms in those magical, dreamlike moments.
‘It’s…it’s not a good idea,’ she said. Her voice seemed strained, tortured.
But Nikos wasn’t listening. His mouth was lowering to hers.
She made one last, frail attempt.
‘Ari…’ she breathed.
But all at once they had left the restaurant, were standing in the little entrance hallway outside the suite. She was fighting for sanity, but it would not come. It had fled, far away, and she could not get it back. Dimly she heard voices speaking French—one Nikos, the other the hotel babysitter—and then the woman was slipping past her, letting herself out, andAnn could not say a word, not a word, until Nikos came out of the lounge. And then she still could not say a word, could only let him take her hand and lead her across the lounge and into his bedroom.
And there she could speak only one word—only one.
‘Nikos,’ she breathed.
She was his. His again. But not as she had been before. Because now his heart was not hardened towards her. Now she was not the woman he must take control of to prevent her exploiting him and his mother any further. She was not the woman he’d cynically, deliberately seduced, succumbing to a desire that he’d needed a reason to slake, allowing him to take her, enjoy her—and still despise her.
Now she was his only because he wanted her—wanted to move his hand over her bare shoulder, feeling the softness of her pale skin, easing aside the chiffon material to free her other shoulder so he could glide his lips along it, even as his fingers went to the zip at the back of the dress. He slid it down in one single long movement, so that the dress fell from her in a shimmer of gossamer, and he turned her, boneless in his hands, to face him.
His breath caught. She was so beautiful! Her rounded breasts, bared to him again, were already swelling to his gaze, and the slender pliancy of her waist awaited his caress. Around her hips there was only a wisp of lace, enticing more than it revealed.
She opened to him willingly, ardently, and his mouth played with hers, each touch, each intimate caress, arousing him yet more and more.
And then her fingers were at his throat, teasing apart the tight knot of his dress tie, slipping the buttons of his shirt, first one and then another, until even as he was kissing her she was baring his body for her own delight, easing his shirt from the confines of his belted hips. He revelled in the feel of her delicate fingertips exploring his torso, revelled yet more in the flatness of her palms smoothing over him, and then, pulling away from her, he shrugged off his jacket, the remains of his shirt.
She stood watching him, even as she had watched him strip down on the beach on Sospiris, when he had first realised his own desire for her. His hands went to his waist, unbuckling his belt, slipping the metal hook, the zip…