And so she obediently showed her engagement ring to the press photographers and looked adoringly into Giannis’s eyes for the cameras.
At the after-show party she remained by his side, smiling up at him as if she was besotted with him. For his part he kept his arm around her while they strolled around the room, stopping frequently so that he could introduce her to people he knew.
Waiters threaded through the crowded room carrying trays of canapés and drinks. Ava sipped champagne and felt the bubbles explode on her tongue. Her senses seemed sharper, and she was intensely aware of Giannis’s hand resting on her waist and the brush of his thigh against hers. He was holding a flute of champagne but she noted that he never drank from it.
‘Do you ever drink alcohol?’ she asked him curiously. ‘You didn’t have any wine at the fundraising dinner, and I noticed that you are not drinking tonight.’
‘How very perceptive of you, glykiá mou.’ He spoke lightly, but Ava felt him stiffen. ‘I avoid drinking alcohol because I like to keep a clear head.’
Something told her there was more to him being teetotal than he had admitted. But, before she could pursue the subject, he took her glass out of her fingers and gave it and his own glass to a passing waiter. Catching hold of her hand, he led her onto the dance floor and swept her into his arms.
Her head swam, not from the effects of the few sips of champagne she’d had, but from the intoxicating heat of Giannis’s body pressed up against hers and the divine fragrance of his aftershave mixed with his own unique male scent. He was a good dancer and moved with a natural rhythm as he steered them around the dance floor, hip to hip, her breasts crushed against the hard wall of his chest. He slid one hand down to the base of her spine and spread his fingers over her bottom. Her breath caught in her throat when she felt the solid ridge of his arousal through their clothes.
Ava closed her eyes and reminded herself that Giannis’s attentiveness was an act to promote the deception that they were engaged. But there was nothing pretend about the sexual chemistry that sizzled between them. She had never been more aware of a man, or of her own femininity, in her life. Her traitorous mind pictured the big bed in the hotel suite they were sharing. Of course she had no intention of also sharing the bed with him, she assured herself. She had agreed to be his fake fiancée in public only.
But, to keep up the pretence, when the disco music changed to a romantic ballad and Giannis pulled her closer, she slid her hands up to his shoulders. And when he bent his head and brushed his mouth over hers, she parted her lips and kissed him with a fervour that drew a low groan from him.
‘We have to get out of here,’ he said hoarsely.
Her legs felt unsteady when he abruptly dropped his arms away from her. ‘Come,’ he growled, clamping his arm around her waist and practically lifting her off her feet as he hurried them out of the museum. The car was waiting for them and, once he had bundled her onto the back seat and closed the privacy screen between them and the driver, he lifted her onto his lap, thrust one hand into her hair and dragged her mouth beneath his.
His kiss was hot and urgent, a ravishment of her senses, as passion exploded between them. Ava sensed a wildness in Giannis that made her shake with need. She remembered Diane Duberry, the fashion journalist at the show, had congratulated her for having tamed the tiger. But the truth was that Giannis would never allow any woman to control him.
Her head was spinning when he finally tore his mouth from hers to allow them to drag oxygen into their lungs. His chest heaved, and when she placed her hand over his heart she felt its thudding, erratic beat. The car sped smoothly through the dark Paris streets and Ava succumbed to the master sorcerer’s magic. Giannis trailed his lips down her throat and over one naked shoulder. She did not realise he had unzipped her dress until he tugged the bodice down and cradled her breasts in his big hands.
Her sensible head reminded her that it was shockingly decadent to be half naked in the back of a car and her wanton behaviour was not what she expected of herself. But her thoughts scattered when Giannis bent his head and his warm breath teased one nipple before he closed his mouth around the rosy peak and sucked, hard. Ava could not repress a moan of pleasure, and when he transferred his attention to her other nipple she ran her fingers through his silky dark hair and prayed that he would never stop what he was doing to her.
‘I have no intention of stopping, glykiá mou,’ he said in an amused voice. Colour flared on her face as she realised that she had spoken her plea aloud. But when he returned his mouth to her breasts she tipped her head back and gasped as lightning bolts of sensation shot down to her molten core between her thighs.
Giannis yanked up her long flared skirt and skimmed his hand over one stocking-clad leg, but the dress was designed to fit tightly over her hips and he could not go any further. He swore. ‘I hope the other clothes you bought are more accessible.’
Ava shared his frustration but while she was wondering if she could possibly wriggle out of her dress the car came to a halt and Giannis shifted her off his knees. ‘We’ve arrived at the hotel,’ he said coolly, straightening his tie and running a hand through his hair. ‘You had better tidy yourself up.’
His words catapulted her back to reality and she frantically pulled the top of her dress into place. ‘Will you zip me up?’
He refastened her dress seconds before the driver opened the rear door. Giannis stepped onto the pavement and offered Ava his hand. She blinked in the glare of camera flashes going off around them. Photographers were gathered outside the entrance to the hotel and she felt mortified as she imagined how dishevelled she must look as she emerged from the car.
‘Here, have this.’ Giannis slipped off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. Glancing down, Ava saw that she had failed to pull the top of her dress up high enough, and her breasts were in danger of spilling out. Hot-faced, she huddled into his jacket as he escorted her into the hotel.
They entered the lift and Ava’s reflection in the mirrored walls confirmed the worst. ‘I look like a harlot,’ she choked, running her finger over her swollen mouth. ‘The photographers must have guessed we were making out on the back seat of the car. If the pictures they took just now appear in tomorrow’s newspapers, everyone will think that we can’t keep our hands off each other.’
Giannis was leaning against the lift wall, one ankle crossed over the other and his hands shoved into his trouser pockets. His bow tie was dangling loose and Ava flushed as she remembered how she had frenziedly torn off his tie and undone several of his shirt buttons. He looked calm and unruffled, the exact opposite of how she felt.
‘The point of tonight was to advertise the news of our engagement to the press.’ He dropped his gaze to where her breasts were partially exposed above the top of her dress. ‘Thanks to your wardrobe malfunction we certainly got maximum exposure,’ he drawled.
He sounded amused, and Ava felt sick as she realised what a fool she was. ‘I suppose you knew that the paparazzi would be at our hotel,’ she said stiffly. ‘Is that why you made love to me in the car?’
‘Actually I didn’t know. But I should have guessed that they would find out which hotel we are staying at.’ His eyes narrowed on her flushed face. ‘I’m sorry if the photographers upset you.’
‘I’m sorry that I ever agreed to be your fake fiancée.’ The lift stopped at the top floor and she preceded Giannis along the corridor, despising herself for her fierce awareness of him even now, after he had humiliated her.
‘But you are not sorry that your brother has avoided a prison sentence,’ he said drily as he opened the door of their suite and ushered her inside. He caught hold of her arm and spun her round to face him. ‘I kissed you because you have driven me insane all evening and I couldn’t help myself. I have never wanted any woman as badly as I want you.’
With an effort Ava resisted the lure of his husky, accented voice that almost fooled her into believing he meant it.