The Greek Tycoon's Convenient Wife

‘Good.’

How clinical he was, she thought—and how well thought out his line of questioning as he took all the known factors into account, a bit like some hot-shot lawyer. But Alice could guess at his overriding concern. That he didn’t want to wait and didn’t want to be disturbed. The tautness in his hard body was as tight as a stretched bow and the crackling tension between them was almost palpable.

He drifted his fingertips along her cheek—as if he was using the power of touch to dissolve any last, lingering doubts. And, oh, didn’t it work a treat? But Alice was past caring whether the gesture had been cynically manipulative or not. To be honest, she was past caring about anything except how much she ached to be in his arms and his bed once more.

‘K-Kyros,’ she said shakily, her tongue snaking out to moisten her parchment-dry lips.

‘Let’s get inside,’ he said roughly.

CHAPTER THREE

ONCE inside, Kyros took command—turning to where Alice stood in the shadows of the hall, the ticking of the grandfather clock muffled by the loud thunder of her heart. And then he said something low and harsh in Greek, and pulled her into his arms—and suddenly this was serious.

His lips were hard, expert, seeking—and Alice swayed with the great tide of emotion which was rising up inside her as she kissed him back with a passion which seemed to have been on hold for the last ten years—and how sad was that? But Alice didn’t care. The urgent touch of his lips felt so right. His body seemed to fit so perfectly as it moulded against hers. His hands slid the black satin dress up over her bottom, moving luxuriously over the lace of her panties, and as she gave a little cry he suddenly drew back, staring down into her widened eyes.

‘If we don’t move from here, I’m going to rip this dress off and do it to you right here on the floor of this hall,’ he ground out.

The graphic words startled her. These were no sweet nothings he was murmuring, she realised—more a cold-blooded declaration of sexual intent. But his hands were undoing all the harshness of his words, making her shiver with desire as his fingers collided with bare flesh.

‘Is that what you want, Alice? To do it here?’

If it had been her own place she suspected the answer would have been yes—because that would have been easier, to have let passion carry them along in its mindless blur. But it wasn’t—it belonged to her parents—and what if one of the neighbours suddenly decided to call round for whatever reason? Unlikely—but terrifying. ‘N-no,’ she breathed. ‘Not here.’

‘Where?’ he demanded, his mouth on hers.

‘Up-upstairs.’

‘Show me.’

As they climbed the stairs Alice realised that there was time to stop this madness. Even as she pushed open the door of her old bedroom—now transformed into the creamy comfort of a guest room—she knew there was still time. But the moment he had kicked the door shut and taken her into his arms again to smother her with hard, passionate kisses Alice knew it was too late.

Kyros moaned as her mouth opened beneath his and his desire shot up to an explosive level—but then she had always possessed the power to turn his blood to fire. He knew everything there was to know about a woman’s body. How to make her cry with pleasure and weep with joy. How to tease and retreat—to play the sophisticated games of the bedroom, which only increased the levels of mutual delight.