His heavily accented voice caused a delicious little shiver to run down her spine, and at the same time exacerbated the tension that had shredded her nerves during the fifteen minutes she had been forced to wait downstairs in the bar. He stood back for her to enter, and for a few seconds her resolve wobbled, and she was tempted to turn tail and flee. But somehow her legs continued to propel her forward—like a lamb into the wolf’s lair, the voice in her head whispered as she moved into the centre of the room. Another tremor ran through her when she heard the click of the door closing behind her.
‘You are the mistress of surprise,’ Thanos drawled as he strolled towards her.
‘What do you mean?’ she queried sharply, colour storming into her cheeks. The word mistress touched a raw nerve. Thanos believed she had been James Hamilton’s mistress. He assumed that she was sexually experienced. The fact that she was not made what she was about to do even harder.
‘I did not expect to see you at the art gallery, and I did not anticipate you turning up here tonight.’ Nor had he anticipated his reaction to her when he had opened the door—the way his heart had slammed in his chest at the sight of her, looking utterly exquisite in the same blue silk gown she had been wearing the other evening. His desire for her weakened him, and he resented the effect she had on him. ‘What do you want, Tahlia?’ he demanded tersely, moving away from her to avoid the subtle drift of her perfume that teased his senses.
Tahlia shot him a quick glance that encompassed his black silk shirt, open at the throat to reveal a few inches of bronzed skin covered with crisp, dark hairs, and his superbly tailored black trousers which drew her attention to his lean hips and muscular thighs. The table lamps placed strategically around the room emitted a soft apricot glow that threw his sculpted cheekbones into sharp relief and danced across his gleaming jet-black hair.
He was unfairly gorgeous, and her stomach muscles clenched as she relived those moments in his office when he had crushed her against his body and his lips had claimed hers with untamed passion. No woman would ever tame Thanos, she brooded. Beneath his veneer of urbane sophistication she sensed power and ruthless ambition, a magnetism that commanded the respect of other men and drew beautiful women to him in droves—yet none would own him or control him, and only the most foolish would try.
The expression on his coldly handsome face was not encouraging, but she had spent the evening listening to her mother’s excited chatter about her plans for the garden at Carlton House while her father had looked increasingly strained and haunted. She had finally accepted that she would do whatever it took to prevent her parents from losing their home.
Her mouth felt dry. She licked her lips nervously and prayed that when she spoke her voice would not waver. She did not want him to know how much this was costing her. ‘I’ve come to tell you that I accept your offer,’ she said baldly, lifting her head and meeting his midnight gaze steadily. ‘I’ll sleep with you in return for you buying Reynolds Gems, for the price my father stipulated to Vantage Investments.’
FOR several long, agonising seconds Thanos said nothing, but then his brows rose and he drawled mockingly, ‘I will expect you to do rather more than sleep in return for paying a fortune for your family’s failing company.’
His body had reacted predictably to the knowledge that Tahlia was his for the taking; his arousal had been instant and uncomfortably hard. But inexplicably he’d also felt a surge of savage disappointment. When she had rejected his offer earlier that day he’d felt a grudging sense of admiration for her, but now he felt nothing but contempt. She was prepared to sell her body to protect her financial security. She was a gold-digger. He would have no compunction about taking her to bed and sating his inconvenient desire for her.
He dropped his gaze to the low-cut neckline of her dress and the provocative thrust of her breasts. Theos, she was beautiful. Heat surged through him and he ruthlessly ignored the faint whisper of regret that it had to be like this, that making love to her would be nothing more than a business transaction. What else could it be? he brooded. He wanted her; she wanted him to bail out her father. It was as simple and clinical as that.
Tahlia caught her breath when Thanos reached out and removed the diamanté clip that secured her chignon. Her hair fell down around her shoulders as soft as silk against her skin, and she watched his eyes darken as he wound a few pale red-gold strands around his fingers. He stayed like that for timeless seconds, his dark eyes scorching her, and then she gasped when his strong arms suddenly closed around her and he jerked her hard against his chest, his dark head swooping and his mouth claiming hers in a kiss of pure possession.
His dominance was absolute as he forced her head back on her slender neck and kissed her fiercely, demanding her complete compliance and proving beyond doubt his mastery. Instinct warned her that Thanos would be a skilled and highly experienced lover, but he had no idea that she was a novice—a virgin who had no real idea of how to please a man.
The hard ridge of his arousal nudging insistently against her thigh was proof that he wanted her, and his low growl of satisfaction when he slid his tongue deep into her mouth filled her with a mixture of apprehension and feminine triumph that she could have such an affect on him. Her senses were swamped by the subtle scent of his aftershave, and fire licked through her veins when she placed her hands on his chest and traced the bunched muscles beneath his shirt. He was so intensely, intoxicatingly male, and he aroused feelings inside her that no other man had ever made her feel.
But the voice of caution in her head, which she had ignored during the taxi ride to his hotel, was demanding to be heard.
This had gone way too far. She should never have started it in the first place, she thought frantically when he finally broke the kiss and drew back a fraction to stare down at her, his eyes glittering with sexual hunger. She ran her tongue over her lips; swollen and sensitive from the unsparing pressure of his mouth, and felt a lightning flare of reaction at her mental image of him making love to her. Her decision to offer herself to him had been born of a desperate desire to help her father. But to sell herself to a man who despised her, who made no effort to disguise his contempt of her? That was beyond desperation—it was insane.
She opened her mouth to tell him she had made a horrendous mistake. But as she was about to utter the words a picture flashed into her mind of her mother as she had been a few months ago, painfully thin and fragile, with a silk scarf wrapped around her head to disguise the fact that she had lost her hair after numerous bouts of chemotherapy. Tonight, Vivienne had still looked fragile, but her head was now covered in baby-fine curls and her smile had been that of a woman who had cheated death and was looking forward to the rest of her life. Her parents had suffered enough, Tahlia thought fiercely. She could not sit back and allow them to lose their home.
‘You don’t come cheap, Tahlia,’ Thanos murmured, with a deliberate inflexion on the word cheap that brought a flush of colour to her cheeks. ‘Before I agree to pay such a substantial sum for Reynolds Gems, I think it only fair that I should see what I’m getting for my money.’
‘I don’t understand,’ she faltered, snatching a sharp breath when he hooked his finger beneath the shoulder strap of her dress and drew it down her arm.
‘I think you do,’ he said softly. ‘Your dress is charming, but I want to see what is beneath the pretty packaging. Take it off,’ he ordered, when she remained rigidly unmoving.
End this now, the sensible voice in Tahlia’s head urged frantically. Tell him you’ve changed your mind, and get out of here fast.
And then what? demanded the reckless voice inside her that she had not known existed until tonight. Go back to her parents and watch her father’s emotional devastation as he broke the news to her mother that they would have to leave Carlton House?
She stared wildly at the door while her mind engaged in a fierce debate. Go—or stay, and sell her soul to the devil?
‘How can I