Mediterranean Tycoons

‘I’m glad you found it amusing because I didn’t.’ His accent had thickened and the anger in the black eyes that blazed into hers was all too real.

If that was what he had thought, in a way she could see his point, and she decided to tell him the truth.

‘You were mistaken. Al did not ask me for a kiss.’ She grinned. ‘My first name is not Sally but Salmacis.’ She gave him the proper pronunciation, a syllable at a time. ‘Sal-ma-sis.’ And saw disbelief, puzzlement and finally curiosity in his dark eyes.

Zac didn’t know whether to believe her. Salmacis was not a name he had ever heard in any language, and he knew half a dozen. If it was an excuse it was a hell of a good one. Yet she looked sincere, and English was not his first language, he could have been mistaken.

‘Salmacis.’ He rolled the name off his tongue and rather liked it. ‘What kind of name is that?’

‘It is Greek. When my mum was pregnant with me she spent the last four months of her pregnancy on bedrest. She got hooked on reading Greek mythology.’

Then Sally told him the legend. ‘Apparently Salmacis was the nymph of a fountain near Halicarnassus in Asia Minor. She became one with the youth Hermaphroditos. And before you ask, no, I am not a hermaphrodite—but I believe that is the origin of the word.’

‘It never entered my head.’ Zac chuckled. ‘What possessed your mother to give you such a peculiar though rather lovely name?’ he demanded, still smiling broadly. ‘You have to admit it is extremely unusual.’

For a moment Sally was stunned, her heart racing out of control as she met his enquiring gaze. His dark eyes danced with golden lights, his hard face was transformed into a softer, younger version by the brilliance of his smile, and she could not help smiling back at him.

‘I think it was the last fable she read before going into labour, and unfortunately for me it stuck in her mind,’ she said wryly.

‘No, not unfortunate. You are far too exotic—no, that isn’t the word.’ Zac shook his dark head, searching his brain for the English equivalent of what he wanted to say. ‘Your beauty is too unique. No—too mystical for a Sally,’ he declared with satisfaction. ‘Salmacis suits you much better.’ He saw the humour in her expressive eyes. How had he ever thought they were cold?

‘I much prefer Sally—in fact, I insist on it. So be warned—call me Salmacis and I will ignore you.’

‘Okay—Sally,’ he conceded, and added, ‘But I am a little surprised she persuaded your father to agree to such an unusual name. Accountants are not known for their flights of fancy.’

The sparkle vanished from her eyes like a light being switched off, to be replaced with a familiar blank look.

‘She didn’t have to. My dad married Mum because he got her pregnant when she was eighteen and he was thirty-five,’ Sally told Zac. It was the truth. Exhaustion from her hectic work schedule and from worrying about her mother overtook her, and she could not be bothered to dissemble.

‘Apparently, he was so upset when the doctor told him she would not have any more children, no future son, he didn’t much care what name I was given.’

Appalled by Sally’s matter-of-fact revelation, Zac realised her father’s attitude must have hurt her. To actually let the child know how he’d felt was a disgraceful thing to do. But then Nigel Paxton was almost certainly a thief and an unfaithful husband: sensitivity was obviously not his strong point.

‘I think we should leave now.’ Her voice intruded on his thoughts. ‘We are the only couple left.’

Zac had not noticed, but glancing around the room he saw she was right.

When was the last time a woman had held his attention to the exclusion of everything else around him? he asked himself. Never. The realisation shocked him rigid. In that moment he determined there was no way he was going to let it happen again. Sally was as dangerous as she was beautiful, and she was not for him…

‘Finish your coffee and we will go,’ he agreed, and beckoned the maître d’. He handed him a credit card and a bundle of notes for a tip, and after draining his coffee cup stood up.

The meal had turned out okay, despite its difficult start, and he had learnt a lot about Salmacis—too much, he thought wryly. From what he had overheard earlier, Sally obviously knew about her father’s infidelity and resented the fact he had more time for a girlfriend than he had for her. Hence turning up at the office today and demanding her father lunch with her.

Money obviously was not enough for the lovely Salmacis; she was the type who craved attention from the men in her life. Given the reaction of her father to her name, he could understand why she behaved the way she did. But clinging, needy women did not appeal to him, he rationalised, confirming his decision not to see her again.

He glanced down at her. She looked fragile and, act or not, he couldn’t prevent himself from slipping an arm around her waist as he led her out of the restaurant. She made no attempt to pull away, another first, but leant against him as they walked to where the limo was parked a few yards away.

He let the chauffeur help her inside.

She was magic to hold, he thought ruefully as he slipped into the back seat beside her, but every male instinct he possessed told him this was one woman he was going to pass on—for his own preservation.

‘Where would you like us to drop you off?’ he asked. ‘Bond Street? Harrods?’ he suggested, with an edge of cynicism in his tone.

‘Harrods is fine.’

He’d thought as much. A bit of retail therapy was all any woman needed to keep her happy.

She looked up at him with soft blue eyes, and he could not resist. He wrapped an arm around her waist and slid his hand through the silken tumble of her hair to tip up her face.

‘What are you doing?’ she murmured.

‘Oh, I think you know,’ he drawled huskily, and covered her lush lips with his own.

He could not let her go without kissing and tasting her just once, he told himself…

Chapter Four (#ulink_51edb791-2940-56c3-b2c6-f1d95ddb5d27)

STARTLED out of her lethargy as a strong arm slipped around her waist, Sally arched back in instinctive denial of the intimacy he was seeking. She glanced up at his darkly attractive face and recognised the sensual intent in his eyes. She was stunned by the sudden flash of awareness that heated her whole body. He was going to kiss her…

Her pulse began to race, and as his dark head bent she could almost feel the virile power emanating from his mighty frame. For a second she was tempted to abandon herself to what he was offering. But she knew it would be a disastrous mistake. She had no time in her life for an affair with Zac or any other man, even if she wanted one. She put her hands up to push him away, but too late…

Zac’s warm mouth claimed hers with a soft sensuality that totally confused and captivated her. She closed her eyes, her lips involuntarily parting to accept the subtle intrusion of his tongue as he deepened the kiss with a skilful, seductive passion that blew all thought of resistance from her mind.

Sally had never experienced a kiss like it. Dizzy with a sensual excitement she had never known before, she let her mouth cling to his, and eagerly, if a little inexpertly, returned the passion. Suddenly he broke the kiss, and tiny moans of regret escaped her, quickly followed by a gasp of pleasure as he trailed kisses down her throat and lower, to trace with his tongue the gentle curve of her breasts revealed by the neckline of her dress.

His hand dropped to slip beneath the fabric, long fingers edging beneath the delicate lace of her bra to cup her naked breast, a thumb teasing the burgeoning tip to send rivers of unbelievable sensation flowing through her body. His mouth returned to hers, and she was enthralled by his taste, his touch, drowning in the sea of erotic pleasure his kisses and caresses evoked. She felt the heat of his palm on her bare leg, his hand stroking up her thigh, and she trembled, the blood pulsing thick and fast through her veins. She was ablaze with sensuous hunger, with a need she didn’t understand but knew she wanted fulfilled badly.

So this was what she had been missing—this was the reason people loved sex, she thought wonderingly, and curved her hand around his neck to mesh her fingers in the silken hair of his head.

Abruptly he pulled away, and without his support Sally flopped back against the seat. Lost in a haze of sexual arousal, she murmured, ‘What happened?’

‘We have arrived at your destination. Harrods.’

His deep accented voice speared like an icicle through the emotional fog clouding her brain. She was mortified. She had not noticed the car had stopped. She glanced down and, horrified, adjusted the bodice of her dress. She looked out of the window—anywhere but at the man next to her. Finally, as the silence lengthened, reluctantly she looked back at Zac Delucca.

He was watching her, his eyes as dark as night, the remnants of desire swirling in the liquid depths.

‘Shame, I know, Sally.’ His lips quirked at the corners in the beginnings of a smile. ‘But we can continue this later. Have dinner with me tonight.’

‘No,’ she said abruptly. Sally had never felt so embarrassed and ashamed in her life. Noting her skirt had hitched up around her thighs, she swiftly smoothed it down with trembling hands. Never in all her life had a man kissed and touched her so intimately. And she couldn’t understand what had come over her.

‘Tomorrow night, then,’ he prompted.

How the hell had it happened? Sally asked herself for the second time today in the luxury of his limousine. This time it was much worse, and it was Zac Delucca’s fault again. When he had spoken of his skills as a lover she had never dreamt he meant to try and prove his statement with such explicit speed that the defensive wall she had built around herself would crumble with just one kiss…

‘Sorry, no. I am going away for the weekend.’

‘Cancel and spent the weekend with me,’ he demanded arrogantly.