Her body trembled as he put a hand in the small of her back and guided her to a waiting limousine, opening the rear door for her and using his own body to cover hers as she stepped into the car in a dress that was too small to accomplish such a manoeuvre easily.
A second later, he was in the space with her, and the air seemed to crackle as though lightning were whipping between them.
Ten minutes ago, this had seemed simple. And then he’d kissed her, and her brain had fired up and her body had begun to feel things it had no business feeling and Alice could have sworn she was tipping right off the edge of the earth.
CHAPTER FIVE
HE SHOULDN’T HAVE kissed her.
Thanos lay in his bed, on his back, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, unable to get Alice Smart from his mind.
The kiss had been a mistake.
Sure, he’d wanted to get papped. He’d wanted a photo of them in all the papers and on all the blogs in the morning. He’d wanted to hit Kosta with a one-two-surprised-you when next they
spoke.
But kissing Alice?
Hell.
He’d opened a can of worms.
Dancing with her had been bad enough, but feeling her body pressed to his, capturing her lips, feeling her rush of warm breath, tasting her sweetness. Every single nuance of that interaction replayed in his mind now.
The feel of her body, warm and moist from dancing, her hair—the way it had smelled, like wildflowers on a sunny field. The way her fingers had knotted in his shirt, clinging to him as if she were drowning, the way her eyes had flown to his, filled with a surge of desire powerful enough to rob them both of breath.
It had taken every ounce of his legendary self-control to have his driver take Alice to her own home, to walk her to the door without going anywhere near enough to touch her—even by mistake.
Come home with me.
The words had rushed through his brain, demanding to be spoken, but thank Christós his tongue had obeyed him, refusing to offer an invitation that would only serve to complicate matters.
He groaned as his body tightened, growing hard beneath the sheet, so he thrust the thought away, pushing out of bed and striding to the windows that overlooked Manhattan.
This had the potential to be a total disaster if he didn’t control it.
He had no intention of really marrying a woman—ever—and that was why this marriage would work so well! It was business. Business, business, business.
Except it wasn’t.
Or rather, it wouldn’t be, if he didn’t take very great care to keep a lid on his desire for her, and to ensure she did the same.
With a roll of his eyes and a guttural moan, he wondered if it was too late to insert a non-consummation clause in their marriage contracts. A threat that she’d void everything if they slept together.
It wasn’t exactly unreasonable, but the second the thought occurred to him, he dismissed it. And that alone should have given him a mountain of doubt.
Because he wasn’t fighting hard enough to control this—and Thanos always fought for what he wanted.
* * *
Sydney Harbour glistened before him. He kicked back on his yacht, staring out at the world-famous skyline, glad he’d had business here in Australia to take him away from Alice. After the night at the club, he’d needed some space. The kind of space he couldn’t get in a city like Manhattan. True, it was teeming with more than one and a half million people, but there was one who kept drawing his focus, distracting him when he could really do without it.
And so, Sydney.
He’d always loved this city for its mix of old and new, for its air of entrepreneurialism and elitism, its egalitarian spirit. And he loved it now for being a port in the storm.
A reprieve.