The Apollonides Mistress Scandal / Rich Man's Vengeful Seduction: The Apollonides Mistress Scandal / Rich Man's Vengeful Seduction

Gemma wanted to kick something—preferably herself—and she wished desperately she’d accepted his invitation. Even though the prickles of excitement his touch had generated terrified her.

He hit a button and slid the phone into his pants pocket. “Tomorrow night?”

Relief overwhelmed her. She hadn’t blown it. She drew a deep, shuddering breath. “Okay, I’ll have dinner with you.”

“So how did we meet?” The following evening Gemma sat across from Angelo in a secluded corner of the Golden Fleece restaurant, her half-eaten meal of grilled calamari garnished with sliced lemon in front of her.

“At the film festival in Cannes.” Angelo set down his knife. His plate was empty. “I thought you were an actress.”

That would explain some of it. Angelo had never been linked with a dancer previously.

“Oh? What happened next?” She speared another tube of calamari and popped it into her mouth.

“You were beautiful—and funny. I enjoyed your company so I invited you to spend a weekend at Poseidon’s Cavern.” He named one of the famous resorts that he owned. “You accepted. And, when business called, you came back to Strathmos with me—it’s where I live, after all.” He gave her a grin that transformed his face, the harsh line of his mouth softening into a passionate curve.

Gemma set her knife and fork together and shifted in her chair, uncomfortable with the notion that it had been so easy for him. “And then I got a job in the resort? Right?”

“Do you want desert?”

“No, thanks.”

“Coffee?”

She shook her head, impatient for his answer to her questions.

He came around and pulled out her chair. Close to her ear he murmured, “There was so much more glamour in being the boss’s girlfriend than working.” His voice was loaded with cynicism. “And you’d led me to believe you were taking a break from stage work. I had no idea you were an exotic dancer until about a month later.”

“Oh.” Gemma rose and shot him a wary glance. “I never wanted to…leave?”

He gave a hard-edged grin. “Why should you have? You had it all. Great resorts to live in, an unending credit line and good sex.”

That was supposed to be funny? Gemma had never felt less like laughing in her life. She walked quickly ahead, not noticing the attractive man with long dark hair who waved to her. She smouldered silently until they exited the restaurant.

“So I no longer had a career—” She squawked in shock as Angelo pulled her into an alcove behind an immense bronze statue of Hephaestus. The sconce of fire that burned in the statue’s raised hand cast leaping shadows against the walls. Gemma opened her mouth to protest.

“If you mean, you no longer danced half naked in an upmarket bar, then no, you no longer had a career. Instead you had me.” In the close confines of the alcove his face had changed, toughened. He looked hard and ruthless and suddenly Gemma could see exactly why he was such a successful businessman and commanded so much respect. She had to take care not to provoke him.

“I had you.” Gemma struggled to keep the anger at his arrogance out of her voice. “And what did you get out of this deal?”

“A beautiful woman in my bed.”

“I don’t suppose it occurred to you I might’ve wanted more?”

“More?”

“A career—”

He gave a snort. “You scored by being my live-in lover. Travel to different resorts. A-list parties. No need to work. Believe me, it was better for you my way.”

His way. Gemma had a feeling that most things ended up his way. The alternative would be for his kept mistress to hit the highway. “Did you love me?”

“Love you?” His head went back and she could see she’d surprised him.

“Yes, did you love me?” She pressed. “With all this good sex, did you feel anything for me at all?”

“Look, Gemma, this wasn’t about love. It was about two consenting adults who met and enjoyed time together.” He spread his hands sideways. “Hell, we were hardly Romeo and Juliet.”

“If we had been Romeo and Juliet, you’d have been dead by the end,” Gemma said through gritted teeth.

“Hey,” he objected, “what are you getting so worked up about? All I meant was that we weren’t young lovers, dizzy from an attack of first-time love.”

“Did I love you?”

He gave an astonished laugh. “What’s the fixation with love? You certainly never told me you loved me. But then you weren’t in it for love. And nor was I.”

Gemma bit her lip, thinking furiously. “I can’t believe I would’ve lived the kind of life you’ve painted for any other reason than because I loved you more than anything in the world. It’s so against everything I believe in.”

“Well, you showed no sign of loving me…and if that’s what you believe now, then you’ve changed.”

She stilled. “Maybe I have.”

His eyes darkened. “Gemma.” He stretched out a hand and stroked her arm. “You should—”

“What am I doing?” She dropped her face into her hands, then raked her fingers back through her hair.

“Trying to regain your memory? Maybe this will help you remember.” There was a huskiness to his voice that caught her attention.

Slowly she raised her head. He was close, far closer than she’d realised and in the flickering light his gaze was intent. Her heart started to pound. She swallowed and the sudden ringing silence stretched between them.

“Yes?” The sound was little more than a croak. But Angelo understood. It meant yes to so much more. Even to that which she most feared.

The instant his lips brushed hers Gemma knew her life would never be the same again. Every preconception she had of what it might’ve been like to be kissed by him vanished.

It was fire and light. Energy and emotion. Then his tongue touched hers and sparks shot through her. Adrenaline. And something magical.

She held her breath, didn’t move in case the magic vanished. Then his tongue swept her mouth and the fire leapt inside her. Gemma groaned, closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the wonder.

When his fingers stroked the naked skin of her shoulder, every nerve ending went crazy. Frissons rippled down her spine and a reckless want followed. She moved closer, pressing herself up against him, until she felt the unmistakable ridge of his erection through the soft silk of her dress. It was a shock…a sign of how out of control this had become…but it was also incredibly satisfying.

Whatever the past held, Angelo wanted her. Now.

She sighed into his mouth, he deepened the kiss and his breathing grew ragged. His hand closed on her shoulder and he pulled her against him.

At last he raised his head. “Do you remember that?”

Gemma stared at him, then regretfully shook her head.

He put her away from him, his hands shaking a little. “Thiavlo. I think we both need to cool down. Let’s visit the casino—you always enjoyed that.”