Purchased for Passion: Shackled by Diamonds / A Mistress for the Taking / His Bought Mistress

‘Let go of me!’ she snarled.

He merely tightened his grip, and looked down at her with his long-lashed eyes.

‘That’s not what you say in bed, Anna mou. You want me to touch you then.’

His voice was soft, as soft as silk, his eyes molten, melting her…

Once again he saw colour flare out along her cheekbones, and that look in her eyes. Of all things, it looked as if it was embarrassment. But that was impossible. Anna Delane was a thief, shameless and unapologetic, and the life she lived as a fashion model hardly meant she was embarrassable about sex.

Then he saw her chin go up, her mouth tighten, as if she were suppressing something. Her body was as stiff as a board.

‘I thought you said you wanted a coffee,’ she bit at him.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ANNA sat at the little harbourside café, watching the boats at their mooring. This was no flash marina—most of the boats were working boats: ferries to other islands, or freighters, or fishing boats.

Opposite her, Leo sat and glowered.

Anna was ignoring him—as usual. Looking at anything and everything except him. Sipping black coffee with a stony face. Exasperation swept through him again. She looked a million dollars in that sundress, and yet she’d insisted on buying it herself—and the others in the bags around her feet. Her insistence infuriated him, and he was annoyed at himself for feeling so unreasonably ill-tempered about it. What the hell was she up to, refusing to let him buy her those paltry clothes?

As if she were making some kind of point to him.

But what kind of point was Anna Delane entitled to make to him? None, that was what. Yet she was as prickly as a hedgehog, trying to make him feel bad when it was she who was the criminal. Leo’s teeth clenched. Why the hell couldn’t she just be nice for once? Pleasant, attentive, eager to please? Eager, if nothing else, to earn the parole he’d promised her?

But not her. No. No, she was sitting there, ignoring him, chin in the air as if she had a bad smell underneath her fastidious nose.

From the corner of her averted eye, Anna saw Leo glowering at her. She refused to look at him. Every instinct told her not to.

Yet something was pulling at her. Something that made her want to just tilt her head slightly, so very, very slightly. Just a little. Just enough to see more of Leo Makarios than from the corner of her eye. To see him sitting there, lounging back in his chair, long legs extended, lean, taut body displayed for her, dark, molten eyes pouring through her, melting her…

No!

Doggedly she held her head rigid. Refusing to look at him.

It seemed suddenly essential that she did not look at him.

She lifted her coffee cup one last time, and set it down empty. And as she did so, of their own volition, pulled by something she could not prevent, her eyes were drawn to him.

To feast on him like a starving man.

Yes! Leo all but punched the air. He’d got her. Her eyes had wandered to him—wandered, and stuck. With absolute selfcontrol he reached for his coffee, holding his gaze impassive. He lifted his cup, relaxing back in his seat, stretching out his legs and flexing his shoulders. He could see her expression register the movement, and his mood improved yet again. He sat back, letting her gaze at him, his own glowering expression quite vanished now.

He luxuriated in her covert observation for a few moments longer, then said, ‘Where would you like to go next, Anna?’

Immediately, her gaze cut out. The look of deliberate indifference was back in her face.

‘I have no opinion on the subject,’ she replied, and pretended to drink more coffee.

‘Then I’ll choose, shall I?’ said Leo, with exaggerated politeness.

‘Please do.’ She gave her acid-sweet smile again.

And again, for one bizarre moment, as his eyes caught hers, Leo wanted to laugh out loud. The girl was impossible, outrageous, infuriating—yet there was something about Anna Delane that he could not let go of…

Leo got to his feet, tossing some East Caribbean dollars down on the table. Incredulously, he watched Anna open her purse, then pause.

‘I don’t have any local currency,’ she announced. She glanced around and saw a bank on the corner of one of the streets leading back into the town. Without pausing, she darted across and went in. She emerged a few minutes later and came back to their table, putting down some coins next to his notes.

‘Take them back, Anna,’ Leo said, in a low, dangerous voice.

His good mood had gone—totally. He was right back to wanting to throttle her.

She stared at him. ‘I’m paying,’ she said, ‘for my coffee.’

Greek issued from him in a staccato fire. ‘God almighty, is this some kind of joke?’ He caught her wrist, halting her. ‘You stole a bracelet from me worth at a conservative estimate eighty thousand euros. Don’t even think of trying to make yourself look virtuous by paying for your own damn coffee and clothes.’ He brought his face closer to hers. ‘You’re a thief—nothing but a thief. Don’t ever think I am going to forget that and be impressed by you.’

Anna’s face had gone rigid. Her eyes were like pinpricks of green fire.

‘Understand this, and understand it well, Leo Makarios,’ she hissed at him. ‘I wouldn’t stoop to trying to impress you if it was my last day on earth. Think what you want of me—I don’t give a stuff!’

She twisted out of his grip, and stormed off.