Eligible Greeks: Tycoon's Revenge: Proud Greek, Ruthless Revenge / The Power of the Legendary Greek / The Greek Millionaire's Mistress

‘But presumably your parents paid for your flat? You could not have afforded to buy a property in such an affluent area of London on the money you earned as a waitress.’

‘Oh, the flat isn’t mine, it belongs to George. My aunt Georgina,’ Tahlia explained hastily, when Thanos’s brows drew together. ‘I moved in with her after I left university. She’s elderly, and had had several falls. I wanted to take care of her, but sadly she developed dementia and it got to the point where I was terrified of leaving her to go to work because she had so many accidents. After she left a plastic jug on the electric hotplate and the kitchen caught fire my parents and I decided that it would be better for her to move into a residential home where she could have full-time care. I visit her twice a week—’ Tahlia broke off at the realisation that she would be unable to visit her aunt for the next month. ‘I don’t suppose she’ll miss me,’ she said quietly. ‘She doesn’t recognise me any more.’

‘Yet you still visit her regularly?’ Thanos murmured.

‘Of course.’Tahlia shrugged. ‘Dementia is a cruel illness, but it doesn’t define Aunt George. She’s still a wonderful person.’

Far from being heartless, as he had once believed, Tahlia clearly possessed a depth of compassion and kindness that he had never found in any other woman, Thanos acknowledged. He did not want to dwell on how he had misjudged her and he strolled towards her, glancing curiously at her shopping bags.

‘So, what did you buy?’

‘Clothes—as ordered,’ she replied brightly. ‘Two evening dresses, to be precise.’ She pulled a garish pink gown from one of the bags and held it up for his inspection. ‘What do you think?’

‘I think you had better show me the other one,’he said flatly.

‘If you don’t like the pink, I thought I couldn’t go wrong with classic black.’ Tahlia held the plain black dress against her and gave an impatient sigh when he shook his head. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘It’s cheap, badly made, and it drains the colour from your face,’ Thanos told her bluntly. He lifted his hand and ran his finger lightly down her cheek, watching the soft flush of rose-pink stain her skin. ‘If they are the only two choices, then I have to say that I definitely prefer you wearing no clothes at all, agape.’

The sultry gleam in his eyes caused a delicious little shiver to run through Tahlia, and her breath snagged in her throat when he slid the strap of her cotton top over her shoulder. It would be so easy to close the few inches between them and tilt her head in readiness for his kiss, but she was suddenly gripped with shyness. She was here with him to fulfil her side of a business arrangement, she reminded herself fiercely. She had not expected to be so utterly captivated by him—or to feel this lingering regret that their relationship would never be more than sex.

‘I think I’ll hit the shower,’ she mumbled. ‘It was hot and dusty in town.’

She quickly made her escape, crossing the lounge to the bedroom and carrying on into the en suite bathroom. A long, tepid shower cooled her heated skin and went some way to restoring her equilibrium. When she’d finished she wound a towel sarong-like around her body and blasted her hair with the hairdrier, wondering if Thanos had returned to work.

The sight of him propped up in bed halted her in her tracks, and her heart missed a beat as her eyes travelled down from his bare muscular chest, covered with whorls of dark hair, to the sheet draped low over his hips. The word handsome did not do justice to his stunning looks and simmering virility. One look at him was all it took for her to melt, she thought despairingly, unable to tear her eyes from the sensual promise of his mouth. The feral heat in his gaze was both an invitation and a demand, and when he wordlessly flicked back the sheet to reveal the awesome strength of his arousal, she swallowed, her eyes locked with his as she walked slowly towards the bed.

Heart pounding so hard she was sure he must hear it, she stretched out beside him, her faint sigh muffled as he lowered his head and claimed her mouth in a slow, drugging kiss that sparked a flame inside her. His tongue probed between her lips, demanding access as he deepened the kiss, and she responded mindlessly, her body quivering with delight. He unwrapped her towel and stroked his hand over her breasts, teasing her nipples into hard peaks before he replaced his fingers with his mouth and laved each dusky tip until she gasped with pleasure.

Passion built swiftly, and when he slipped his hand between her thighs she spread her legs wider, heard his low groan of approval as he parted her and discovered the slick wetness of her arousal.

‘You can touch me too,’ Thanos murmured, smiling when colour stained her cheeks.

After a moment’s hesitation she complied, and tested his restraint to its limit when she stroked her fingers lightly along his swollen length and then grew bolder and encircled him. Her innocence was indisputable, but she was an apt pupil, he acknowledged, his heart racing as he reached for a protective sheath and then positioned himself over her. He entered her with slow deliberation, watching her eyes widen as she felt him slide deeper, filling her to the hilt before he withdrew almost fully and thrust again, establishing a rhythm that drove them both to the edge and over, as their passion exploded in the glory of mutual climax.

It was just good sex, he reminded himself when he finally withdrew and rolled onto his back, taking her with him and tangling his hand in her hair. He guided her mouth down on his and kissed her with lazy appreciation. Physical compatibility at its best—which left him with a feeling of contentment that he had never experienced with any other woman.

‘I need to work for another couple of hours,’ he told her as he pulled on his trousers. ‘This evening we’re attending a reception. The shipping magnate Christos Petrelis is hosting a party on his private island.’

‘Which dress shall I wear?’ Tahlia mused. ‘The black or the pink?’

He gave her a level look. ‘Neither.’

‘You think I should go nude?’ she teased him, her impish smile tugging faintly on his heart.

‘It would certainly be an attention-stealer, but I admit I like the fact that I am the only man who has ever seen your naked body,’ he told her, frowning slightly as he acknowledged a degree of possessiveness that was unexpected. He reached for his phone and spoke rapidly in Greek before cutting the call. ‘Fortunately, I am a much better shopper than you. Come and see.’

Puzzled, Tahlia pulled on her robe and followed him into the lounge. He strode over to the door and opened it, to admit three porters laded with bags and boxes emblazoned with the names of famous design houses.

‘What…?’ She lifted her eyes to his face and waited for his explanation.

‘You need new clothes,’ Thanos murmured coolly. ‘So I phoned a friend in Paris who is a personal stylist, gave her your measurements and a description of your colouring, and asked her to send over a selection of suitable outfits.’

‘Well, you can just send them straight back.’ Tahlia stared around at the dozens of boxes and bags, from Chanel, Gucci, Prada, and felt sick with misery. The laughter she had shared with Thanos a few moments earlier had been replaced with a tangible tension. ‘I won’t wear clothes paid for by you. I told you—I pay my own way and I won’t accept hand-outs. Even though they are haute couture,’ she added grimly.

Thanos’s smile had faded and his expression was unreadable, although Tahlia sensed that she had angered him. ‘You will wear them,’ he told her, with a note of implacability in his voice that warned her she would have a fight on her hands if she refused. ‘As we discussed before, your sole purpose for the next month is to please me, and I expect you to dress appropriately.’

‘I don’t need reminding that you are paying for me to act the role of your mistress,’ she said stiffly, hurt pride churning in her stomach. In a battle of wills he would be a clear winner, and a dignified retreat was her only option. ‘Very well, I’ll wear the clothes while I am here on Mykonos. But I shall regard them as a uniform, and I will leave them behind when our contract is over.’

Thanos restrained himself from pulling her into his arms and shaking some sense into her, and ignored the stronger urge to kiss her into submission. ‘Suit yourself,’ he said laconically, snatching up his jacket from the back of the chair and heading for the door. ‘I believe Monique included a Valentino evening gown in the collection. Wear that tonight,’ he ordered, and he stepped into the corridor and slammed the door behind him without giving her the chance to argue further.

Tahlia worked off her fury at Thanos’s high-handedness by swimming thirty lengths in the private pool. When she returned to the bedroom she discovered that the maid had unpacked the clothes and hung them in the wardrobe: beautiful classical evening dresses, elegant trousers, skirts and tops, all with matching shoes and accessories, and a variety of exquisite nightgowns and sets of lacy underwear which were nothing like the plain cotton bras and knickers she usually wore.

Presumably Thanos believed that as he was paying for her he could indulge in a typical male fantasy of seeing her in flimsy scraps of silk and lace, she thought dully as she held up a low-cut black basque complete with silk ribbons which laced up at the front. In different circumstances she would have taken huge delight in a cupboard full of designer outfits, but the knowledge that Thanos had bought them emphasised the fact that she was—as he had pointed out—here to please him.

The Valentino dress was stunning, she was forced to admit later, after she had taken a leisurely bath and smoothed fragrant body lotion onto her skin before dressing for the party. The heather-coloured silk gown left her shoulders bare and clung lovingly to her waist and hips, the side-split in the skirt reaching to mid-thigh. It was the most daring dress she had ever worn, and as she stared at her reflection in the mirror she barely recognised the sultry seductress looking back at her as sensible Tahlia Reynolds.

Thanos walked into the bedroom as she was spraying perfume to her pulse points. She guessed he must have used the spare bedroom as a dressing room, because he had changed into a black dinner suit which emphasised his lean length and the formidable width of his shoulders. She hated the way her heart jerked as her gaze skittered over the chiselled beauty of his face.

Her heart thudded as his eyes swept over her.

‘You look beautiful.’ His voice was as deep and sensuous as crushed velvet, and her senses flared as she caught the drift of his cologne when he strolled over to her. ‘I bought this for you to wear tonight.’

Tahlia caught her breath when he held up a large peardropshaped amethyst, surrounded by diamonds and suspended on a fine white-gold chain. Before she had time to argue Thanos fastened the pendant around her neck and stood back to admire the sight of the violet-coloured gem sitting in the V between her creamy breasts.

‘Perfect,’ he murmured, his eyes gleaming with feral hunger as he traced his finger over the pendant and then slipped it lower and settled it between her breasts. ‘It matches the colour of your dress exactly. But whenever I look at you this evening I will be imagining you wearing nothing but the necklace,’ he added thickly.

The pendant felt heavy on Tahlia’s skin, and she was tempted to tear it off. She felt as though he had branded her—as if every time he looked at her he would be reminded that he had paid for her.

‘You think you can buy everything, don’t you?’ she snapped. ‘You have so little understanding of the value of money that the cost of a valuable piece of jewellery is irrelevant to you. I suppose that’s what comes of being born into wealth,’ she finished scathingly.

Thanos’s face had darkened at her outburst, and now he gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I wasn’t born into wealth,’ he said harshly. ‘There was no grand mansion house in my family to pass down through generations. I didn’t enjoy a privileged childhood or have the advantage of a private education. I was born on a small island called Agistri, and I grew up in a tiny stone-built house with no running water,’ he explained flatly. ‘As a youth I assumed that I would spend my life as a goat-herd. I had no expectations of ever moving away from the island where my family had lived for generations.’

‘What made you decide to leave?’ Tahlia asked, stunned by his revelation that he had not inherited his vast fortune.

‘An English woman called Wendy Jones.’Thanos could not disguise the bitterness in his voice. ‘She was my father’s mistress—and after he walked out on his family and divorced my mother she subsequently became his new wife. Wendy had already been married and divorced twice when she bought a villa on Agistri. She employed my father to carry out renovation work on her house, but it soon became apparent that she wanted him for more than his building skills. A few months after he began working for her he dropped the bombshell to my mother that their marriage was over.

He continued harshly, ‘My mother was distraught, especially when my father stopped all financial support. I was fifteen, and Melina was just three years old. I dropped out of school, lied about my age, and managed to pick up some labouring work, using the skills my father had taught me. My mother wept about the disruption to my education, but I had no choice—I couldn’t allow her and my sister to starve, and my father was too besotted with his tart to spare a thought for his wife and children. I lost all the respect I had felt for my father,’ Thanos said savagely. ‘He made a complete fool of himself. Wendy flirted with him outrageously. She knew he was married, but that little fact didn’t seem to matter to her. She’d decided that she wanted him for herself and she deliberately pursued him, uncaring that she had ripped my family apart—’

He broke off abruptly, and in the tense silence Tahlia could feel his barely leashed anger. No wonder Thanos had been so ready to believe that she had stolen James Hamilton from his sister, she brooded. His family had been blown apart by his father’s mistress. It must have seemed as though history was repeating itself when his sister had discovered that her husband was having an affair.

‘I never spoke to my father after he married again,’ he continued grimly. ‘Eighteen months after the wedding he was killed in a horrific accident. Wendy had insisted on having a swimming pool, and he was crushed when the mechanical digger he was driving overturned.’He ignored Tahlia’s shocked gasp and continued. ‘My father had not made a will, and everything he owned—namely the house where my mother, Melina and I still lived—passed to his wife. Within a week of his funeral Wendy demanded that we leave her property. It was the final blow to my mother, to be evicted from the home where she had lived for her entire married life by my father’s whore. She died of pneumonia six months later, leaving me to care for Melina, who was then just five years old.’

Tahlia tried to imagine Thanos at seventeen—a boy who overnight had had to become a man and take responsibility for his young sister while he was grieving for both his parents. ‘You must feel very protective of Melina,’ she murmured.

He turned his head and stared at her, his dark eyes blazing. ‘I would give my life for her,’ he vowed fiercely. ‘I promised my mother as she lay dying that I would always take care of Melina. When I first saw her after the accident and I was told she had less than a fifty percent chance of surviving…’ His throat moved convulsively. ‘I was haunted by the knowledge that I had failed to protect her.’

Tahlia was shocked by the raw emotion in his eyes. There was no doubt that Thanos adored his sister, and she realised that far from being the hard, ruthless man she had once believed his feelings ran deep. If he ever fell in love he would give his heart utterly, she brooded, aware of a faint tug of envy for the woman who might one day win his devotion.

He had fallen silent, seemingly lost in his thoughts, but after a moment he picked up her stole and placed it around her shoulders. ‘Are you ready to leave?’

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.