She swallowed, her mind battling to grab hold of logic and rationality in the sea of foaming sensation bubbling inside.
‘When you make love to me’ he’d said. Not if.
Part of her wanted to argue—who was this man to presume to know what she wanted?—while another part of her recognised the simple truth at the core of his assertion. Because there was something about this man—something that drew her closer and more intensely than any man she’d ever met. And whether it was merely lust or a powerful attraction or something else that was driving her thoughts, simply knowing that eventually, ultimately, they would make love gave her flesh a shivery tingle of anticipation.
At last she managed to unknot her tongue enough to respond. ‘You sound very sure of yourself, Mr Demakis.’
‘Oh,’ he said, holding her chin steady as he angled himself closer, ‘it’s not just me I’m sure about.’
His lips met hers in more of a tingle than a meeting of flesh. He was there, barely touching, so she could sense his contact rather than feel it. His low breathing fanning her face, mingling with hers. And waiting for more was like exquisite torture.
Her earlier weariness was shrugged off. Every part of her now felt alive, sparkling, special. And when his lips brushed over hers and closed that final millimetre she knew why she’d felt lucky to have escaped Loukas’s influence before. Because she didn’t think she could escape if she tried. Even worse, she knew she wouldn’t try to. Because right now there was nowhere she’d rather be.
If there was such a thing as a perfect fit, she was sure she’d found it. His lips wove sweet magic over hers in a tender caress that felt as if it was made for her and her alone. She heard a noise, a strangely foreign sigh that sounded like someone slipping into ecstasy, only to register with surprise that it had come from her. She was the one slipping away.
And then all of a sudden his lips were withdrawing, and she knew that whatever arguments she put up about not wanting to sleep with him would be rendered completely useless after that kiss. No matter what she said, what she claimed to the contrary, there was no way he wouldn’t know she was completely and utterly his for the taking. There was no way he wouldn’t know it was only a matter of time.
She opened her eyes hesitantly, unsteadily, almost afraid to meet his eyes because of how they might look—smug?—victorious?
But his hand continued to cup her chin, and there was no option but to raise her lashes and look up at him. What she saw there was even more disconcerting than his kiss. Because there was arrogance, there was even a kind of victory, but there was confusion and questions too—questions that swirled and eddied and muddied the depths of those brown eyes, questions that she couldn’t begin to understand, let alone answer.
Yet there was one question she could answer—right now.
‘Yes,’ she said, running her tongue over her lips, tasting the essence of him on her skin.
His brows pulled together. ‘Yes what?’
‘Yes.’ To anything you want. ‘If it means one million dollars for the foundation, I’ll have dinner with you.’
‘I don’t know, Grace. I can’t put my finger on what it is that’s bothering me, but it doesn’t seem right somehow.’ Jade stopped pacing the living room long enough to rest her hands on the back of one of the soft peach-coloured sofas while Grace sat opposite, sipping on her post-supper coffee.
Ever since she’d become aware Grace had arrived home from the clinic, Jade had been itching to talk to her about Loukas and his planned contribution. After their friction today she’d wanted to share the good news—although now she wasn’t so sure it was good news.
At least, not for her.
‘You can’t be having second thoughts,’ said Grace practically. ‘You’ve already told him you’d go.’
Jade looked down at her hands, steadily working indentations into the soft leather. ‘I could always tell him I made a mistake—that I’ve changed my mind. Maybe he’ll give the money anyway.’
‘Change your mind and risk losing me one million dollars? No, you will not! You’ll go to dinner like you agreed.’