And impressing Kosta with how completely she’d changed Thanos was part of that, so she sucked in a breath and swore to herself she would play this part to absolute perfection—and that they wouldn’t leave until Thanos had peace of mind about his company’s future.
When they returned to the mansion, Alice faked a yawn. Thanos’s eyes shifted to her face.
‘Excuse me.’ She smiled apologetically. ‘I’m a little worn out. Do you mind if I have a rest?’
‘Of course.’ Kosta nodded, calling for a servant to show Alice to the room that would be hers and Thanos’s. She slipped away from them, glad that Kosta and Thanos would have a chance to be alone together, knowing that all Thanos needed was a little time to bring the older man around to selling the property.
* * *
Alice woke to a feather-light touch on the tip of her nose. She lifted her hand to bat away what she thought must be a bug or a stray hair, and connected instead with Thanos’s finger. Alice’s eyes blinked open, a ready smile on her face. She was disoriented though, looking towards the window to see that the sun was lower in the sky, the day’s brightness fading into evening.
‘I fell asleep.’
Thanos grinned. ‘Apparently.’
She lifted her hand to his chest, not questioning the easy intimacy that had developed between them. ‘How did your afternoon go? Did you talk to him?’
Thanos made a noise of agreement.
‘And?’ She sat up in the bed so her eyes were level with his. ‘Did he agree to sell it to you?’
Thanos’s laugh was throaty. ‘You are as impatient as I am.’
Impatient? Alice wasn’t. In fact, there was a part of her that hoped Kosta would stretch this out, making Thanos take months and months to convince him, months and months of pretending to be married, just like this.
‘He’s close,’ Thanos agreed, shifting his head forward a little, his eyes locked to hers as he brushed her lips. It was such a small gesture, and it reminded Alice of the night in front of the club, the night she’d agreed to marry him, but it was different too, because now he was familiar and she knew that the kiss could and would lead to so much more.
‘We have an hour before dinner,’ he said, his lips hovering just above hers.
‘An hour?’ Her eyes were heavy; she dropped them, breathing in as she pushed her body forward. A teasing smile flickered over her lips. ‘That sounds like just enough time for a swim in those rock pools.’
‘Exactly what I had in mind,’ Thanos joked, as he found the bottom of her shirt and lifted it over her head.
His fingers moved with urgency, trailing over her body, finding her breasts, teasing her nipples, plucking them between his thumb and forefinger, his kiss deepening as he pushed her back against the bed, so every fibre of her being was vibrating with this total, desperate, all-consuming rushing of desire.
‘I’m going to miss this,’ he groaned, the throwaway comment said without thought, without meaning, but it drove a stake into Alice, splintering her pleasure for a moment, making it almost impossible for her to set aside the pain and feel only pleasure.
But then his mouth claimed one of her nipples and he shifted a hand to between her legs, his fingertips tormenting the sensitive cluster of nerves there, so she was totally lost to thought and feeling and was simply existing for this, for him, and for whatever it was their marriage had become.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THANOS MEANT WHAT he’d said. He was going to miss this. He was going to miss Alice. The realisation landed against his side with a thud and he did everything he could to vanquish the thought. Casual sex was nothing new to him.
He was the playboy prince of Europe, wasn’t he?
He dragged his mouth lower down her body as his hands removed her underpants, his tongue tormenting her flat stomach before finding the hair at the apex of her thighs, delighting in her responsiveness, her little sounds of pleasure that broke through the room.
He would never tire of this. Her body was like an instrument and he wanted to be its maestro. Anger soared in him whenever he thought of the man she’d once loved, who’d made her care for him, made her trust him, and had taken her virginity then discarded Alice as though she meant nothing.
Hypocrite, a little voice inside him whispered, as he brought his hands to her thighs, spreading her legs wider, allowing him greater access. Her hands threaded through his hair, her movements urgent, her heavy, impassioned voice begging him not to stop.
He didn’t intend to.
But he wasn’t a hypocrite. He was nothing like Clinton, who’d hurt her. Clinton who’d promised her the world and turned his back on her.
Thanos hadn’t promised Alice anything. He’d been very careful about that. He’d purposely made sure he was painstakingly honest with her every step of the way. They’d slept together out of mutual need—both had wanted this, and both had agreed to it, knowing their marriage would end one day and this would all be over.
Over.