Damian moved slowly among his guests, stirring up expectation.
‘So who is she, Damian?’ A Hollywood actress who had been flirting with him for months didn’t hide her annoyance at his hints that he’d brought a special guest. ‘Not Sandra, I assume?’
‘Not Sandra.’
‘Why so mysterious? And why is she still in the bedroom and not out here, or is that a question one shouldn’t ask?’‘Worn out from too much sex,’ someone murmured. Damian simply smiled and accepted a glass of champagne from one of his hovering staff.
‘She leads a very quiet, very private life and this is all very new to her.’ He’d discovered early in life that it was best to sail as close to the truth as possible and he stuck to that now as he carefully conjured suspense and interest among his guests.
Cory Berger, a model who had been flirting with him for several months, strolled up to him. ‘You’re a wicked man. Who is this reclusive woman that you’re about to produce like a rabbit from a magician’s hat?’
He left his guests simmering in an atmosphere of expectation and strolled through the villa to the master bedroom suite, scooping another glass of champagne on the way.
At first he thought she wasn’t in the room and he gave an impatient frown and glanced around him. ‘Sophia?’
‘I’m here.’
He turned his head.
There was no sign of the awkward schoolgirl. The person standing in front of him in a sheath of shimmering scarlet was all woman.
‘That dress was designed for the express purpose of tempting some poor defenceless man to rip it off.’ His eyes weren’t on the dress, but on the delicious curve of her narrow waist and the swell of her breasts above the tight jewelled bodice.
She smiled, clearly delighted by the effect she was having on him. ‘“Defenceless” is not a word anyone would use to describe you. And I know you spend your life escorting women who wear stunning dresses so what makes this one special?’
‘The person wearing it.’
‘Oh,
smooth
, Mr Andino.’
Unused to women whose response to compliments was laughter, Damian handed her a glass. ‘Champagne in a tall, slim glass, a red dress and a guy in a dinner jacket. This could be the first time in my life I’ve made a woman’s dreams come true.’
‘Mmm, thank you.’ She took a mouthful of champagne, her eyes closing as if she wanted to savour the moment. ‘It tastes like celebration.’ Immediately she took another sip, and then another larger gulp.
Damian raised his brows. ‘If you want to remember the evening, drink slowly.’
‘It tastes delicious. I love the feel of the bubbles on my tongue. And one of the best things about my new independence is being able to decide what I drink and what I don’t drink.’
‘That’s fine. But, delighted though I am that you’re clearly capable of enjoying the sensual potential of champagne, I’d rather my date wasn’t unconscious. From now on take tiny sips and count to a hundred in between.’ He held out his arm and she immediately put her empty glass down, took his arm and smiled up at him.
‘Thank you.’
That wide, genuine smile knocked him off-balance. He was used to coy, flirtatious and manipulative. ‘Friendly’ was new to him and he had no idea how to respond.
She appeared to have no sense of caution. No layers of protection between her and the world. How the hell was she going to manage when she was no longer protected by her father’s security machine?
‘What are you thanking me for?’
‘For agreeing to help me, for inviting me to this party and for arranging all these wonderful clothes. It’s the perfect way to start my new life. You’re my hero.’ She stood back slightly, her eyes on his shoulders. ‘You look smoking hot in a dinner jacket, by the way. Very macho. I bet all the dragons in Greece are trembling in their caves, or wherever it is dragons live when they’re not munching on innocent maidens.’
‘Heroes don’t exist in real life and you’ve definitely drunk that too fast.’ Damian made a mental note to brief the staff to make her next drink non-alcoholic, otherwise she’d be lying face-down in a coma before the party had even begun.
‘You’re too modest.’ Her eyes drifted from his shoulders to his mouth. ‘People are so wrong about you.’
‘You are far too trusting. What if they’re right?’
Apparently undaunted by that suggestion, she closed her other hand round his lapel and pulled him towards her. ‘Do you know what I think? I think you’ve created this bad-boy image to keep people—women especially—at a distance. I think you’re afraid of intimacy.’
Damian felt darkness press in on him.
She’d found the one tiny chink in his armour and thrust her sword into it.
How? How had she done that? Was it a lucky guess?
It had to be a lucky guess. She didn’t know anything about his past. No one did.
‘I’m not afraid of intimacy and later I’m going to prove that to you, so don’t drink any more or you’ll fall asleep before we reach the interesting part of the evening.’ Ignoring her puzzled expression, he guided her towards the door.
‘I’ve upset you. Did I say something wrong?’
‘What makes you think you’ve upset me?’
‘Because your voice changed.’
Damian, who prided himself on being inscrutable, started to sweat. Did she pick up on everything? ‘You haven’t upset me but I have guests, and I’ve already kept them waiting long enough. Are you ready?’
‘Yes. Although I’m bracing myself to be hated.’
‘Why would you be hated?’
‘Because I’m with the hottest guy on the planet. All the women are going to hate me, but don’t worry about it. When you’re Alexander Leonidas’s daughter you get used to not having friends.’
Her tone was light but he instantly thought of the night on the boat, when she’d found a hidden corner to sit, away from all the other guests. She’d worn her loneliness with a brave smile but she’d been almost pathetically grateful when he’d sat down and talked to her.
‘Friendship is idealised and overrated. If someone wants to be friends with you, it’s usually because they want something.’
‘I don’t believe that.’
‘You mean you don’t want to believe it. You are hopelessly idealistic.’ He held the door open for her and the brightness of her expression dimmed slightly.
‘So you’re saying that true friendship is impossible?’
‘I’m saying that the temptation of money is too strong for most people. It changes things.’ The scar inside him ached, reminding him of the truth of that. ‘Just something to bear in mind for the future if you don’t want to be hurt.’
‘Is that what you do? Do you live your life protecting yourself from being hurt?’
Damian, who was used to keeping his conversations satisfyingly superficial, wondered why every exchange with her dived far beneath the surface. ‘I live my life the way I want to live it. Right now I’d like to attend my own party. Shall we go?’
* * *
Everyone was staring, some discreetly over the top of their champagne glasses and some more openly. But all the glances revealed the same emotion.
Shock.
Feeling like a caged bird suddenly released to freedom, Sophia took another glass of champagne just because she could.
Damian frowned. ‘Are you sure you should drink that?’
‘Do you know one of the best things about tonight? The fact that all of it is my decision. I decided to come to the party, I decided what dress I’d wear and now I’m deciding to drink champagne.’
‘Just as long as you realise you’re also choosing to have a crushing headache in the morning.’
‘It will be worth it.’ She drank half the glass and smiled up at him. ‘Champagne makes everything feel more exciting, doesn’t it?’
‘The second glass does that. After the third I doubt you’ll remember enough about what happened to be excited. I advise you to switch to orange juice.’
‘If it’s going to give me a headache then I’ll find that out for myself.’
‘I’ll remind you of that when you’re moaning in the bathroom.’
She laughed up at him, forgetting the people around them. ‘How many glasses of champagne do you have to drink before you’ll kiss me in public?’
His eyes gleamed. ‘I don’t need to be intoxicated for that,
koukla mou.
’
‘In that case—’ her voice husky, Sophia closed her fingers around the lapel of his jacket and closed her eyes ‘—kiss me.’
Just in case it never happened again. Just in case tonight was the only chance she was going to get to kiss a man like him.
Anticipation washed over her skin and she waited to feel the brush of his mouth over hers, barely aware of the hum of conversation or the music around her as her imagination took over her mind. But he didn’t kiss her. It was a moment of elongated suspense designed to torture her, and just when she’d started to think she was going to remember this moment as the most humiliating of her life she felt the tips of his fingers slide over her jaw.
She opened her eyes and met his, her heart pounding a crazy rhythm.
There was a brief silence and then he slid his hand behind her head and drew her face to his. ‘What is it about you? I should walk away, but I can’t.’
Desire was an ache low in her belly. ‘I’m hanging onto your jacket. That could be the reason.’
He didn’t smile. He didn’t say a word.
For a breathless moment Sophia saw something flicker in those dark eyes and then he lowered his head slowly, his eyes locked on hers. Until that moment she’d never known that a look could have a physical effect, but she felt that look all the way through her body in a rush of heat that spread right through her.
The anticipation was so acute it was almost painful—and he knew it because that sensual mouth curved slightly as he prolonged expectation.
And then the warmth of his breath brushed against her lips and she felt his free hand slide down her back and settle low on her waist as he drew her into contact with him.
She felt hardness and heat and suddenly doing this didn’t feel like light-hearted fun any more. In his eyes she saw no trace of humour. Just raw, untamed male sexuality. She realised in a flash that he was controlling every second of this encounter. The pace. The intensity. Even her response. He was in charge of all of it.
And suddenly she knew that exploring her own sexuality with this man was like deciding to buy a pet and choosing a tiger. He was everything that wasn’t tame or safe. Everything dangerous. Everything she’d dreamed of during those long nights when she’d imagined her life looking different.
Her mind in fast rewind, she tried to pull away. But his hand was hard and warm on her back and he held her exactly as she’d dreamed of being held.
‘Close your eyes, champagne girl.’ His soft command slid into her bones and she felt as if she’d just jumped off a high diving board with no opportunity to change her mind before she hit deep water.
And then his mouth touched hers and she forgot all of it as she melted under the skill of his kiss. He kissed her with erotic expertise, teasing her lips with his tongue, driving her wild with each movement of his mouth until her head was spinning and her thoughts were an incoherent blur.
It was, without doubt, the most perfect, exciting moment of her life and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her body quivering as she felt the evidence of his arousal pressing against her.
The fact that he wanted her was as intoxicating as the feelings he whipped up inside her with nothing but the skill of his mouth.
‘Maybe you should get a room. I know the man who owns this villa. I could put in a good word for you if you like?’
A light female voice cut through her dreams and Sophia would have jumped away from him had it not been for the fact that Damian kept her locked firmly against him.
‘Your timing is less than perfect, Cory.’
‘I thought it was absolutely perfect.’
Bitterly disappointed by the interruption, Sophia stole a glance at the other woman, wondering who she was.
The woman was stunning, her smile cool as she extended a hand to Selene. ‘I’m Cory. And you’re Sophia.’
It gave her a jolt that someone recognised her. Stupidly, she hadn’t even thought of that. ‘You know me?’
‘Of course. It’s just unusual not to see you with your parents. You’re such a close-knit family.’
Sophia kept her smile in place. This was the part she was used to playing and she played it well. ‘It’s nice to meet you.’
‘Mmm. And you.’ Cory raised her glass to her lips, admiration in her eyes as she looked at Sophia. ‘I have to hand it to you, occasionally you display a Machiavellian genius beyond anything I’ve ever encountered. Game, set and match, Damian.’
Sophia, who assumed that this coded exchange related to their relationship, stayed silent as Cory scooped two glasses of champagne from a passing waitress and handed one to her.
‘Let’s drink to your existence.’
She saw Damian frown slightly and remembered what he’d said about not drinking any more champagne, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask for orange juice in front of this sophisticated woman so she tapped her glass against hers and drank.
The alcohol fizzed into her veins and boosted her confidence. She wanted to dance but no one else seemed to be and when she asked why, Cory looked amused.
‘Dancing makes one—hot.’
‘Does that matter?’ She started to sway on the spot and the other woman smiled.
‘That’s for you to decide, but if you can tempt Damian onto the dance floor then you’ll have succeeded where others have failed.’
Realising that she desperately wanted to succeed where others had failed, Sophia watched as she walked away. ‘She hates me. Not because of my father, but because of you. She’s crazy about you.’
He gave her a sharp look. ‘Not so innocent, are you?’
‘I’m good at reading people.’ She’d had to be. She’d learned to recognise everything that wasn’t said, every emotion hidden beneath the surface, so that she could anticipate and deflect. It was how she lived her life and it was going to take more than one evening of freedom to undo that.
Thoughtful, she finished her champagne. He removed the empty glass from her hand and replaced it with orange juice.
‘Here’s a hint—alcohol makes you feel good for five minutes, then you crash and you’ll be crying on my shoulder.’
‘I only cry when I’m happy. Although you should know I’m very happy tonight so you probably ought to stock up on tissues.’ Laughing at the look on his face, she tugged her hand from his and spun onto the dance floor. Emerging from a pirouette, she smacked into Damian who closed his hands around her arms to steady her.
‘No more champagne.’
‘Killjoy.’
‘I’m preserving my sanity and your brain cells.’
‘I just want to start living my life.’ The thumping rhythm of the music made it impossible not to dance.
Damian clamped his arm around her to restrict her movements. ‘But you don’t have to live it all in one night.’
The music slowed and he drew her against him. She sighed and slid her arms around his neck. ‘You know when you have a dream and the reality turns out even better?’
He covered her lips with his fingers. ‘I don’t know what is coming out of your mouth next, but I suggest this would be a good moment to clamp it shut.’
‘It’s no wonder all the women chase after you because you are seriously hot.’
He shook his head in disbelief. ‘Whatever happened to the shy, withdrawn nun who walked into my office?’
‘I think this might be the real me, and the real me has never been let out before.’
Amusement mingled with exasperation. ‘Should I be afraid?’
‘You’re not afraid of anything. That’s why I came to you. I know it’s not politically correct to admit it but I think I might be very turned on by strong men.’ Dizzy from the atmosphere and the champagne circulating in her system, Sophia leaned her forehead against his chest. ‘And it doesn’t hurt that you smell amazing.’
‘Sophia—’
‘And you kiss like a god. You must have had hours of practice to be able to kiss like that. It’s brilliant to have ticked the first thing on my wish list.’
‘You have a wish list?’
‘I have a list of ten things I want to experience the moment I leave the island and start my new life. Being kissed is one of them and I have to say you aced that one. I’m so glad it was you and not some slobbery amateur. Another is waking up next to a really hot guy.’ She sneaked a look at him and he shook his head in disbelief.
‘So this is what happens when an overprotected daughter suddenly cuts loose. Until a few hours ago you were a shy girl who had never been near a city. What else is on this list of yours?’
Sophia discovered that her head was too fuzzy to remember in detail. ‘Being able to make my own decisions about everything. Sex is on my list, too, obviously. Wild, abandoned sex.’
‘With anyone in particular?’ His mocking tone made her smile.
‘Yes, you. I always wanted the first time to be you.’ She saw no reason not to be honest. ‘I hope I’m not giving you performance anxiety? No pressure or anything.’
His eyes glittered down into hers but he was no longer smiling. Somewhere during the course of their conversation the atmosphere had shifted subtly. ‘I think the champagne is talking.’
‘No, I’m pretty sure it was me, although the champagne might have prompted it. It’s good at removing inhibitions.’
‘I’d noticed.’ With a driven sigh, he drew her off the dance floor and down a narrow path that led to the beach.
‘Where are we going? You’re walking too fast.’
‘I’m removing you from public before you tip over the edge and do something you’re going to regret.’ He cursed under his breath as she stumbled and fell against him. ‘
Cristos, I should have taken that third glass of champagne out of your hand.’ His voice harsh, he swept her into his arms as if she weighed nothing and continued down the steps. ‘Here’s another tip. Next time stop drinking while you can still walk in a straight line.’
‘There might not be a next time. That’s why I’m making the most of this time. You have to live for the moment and I’m living for the moment. At least, I’m trying to live for the moment but it’s hard to do that unless the other person is doing it too.’
‘Theé mou—’
Jaw tense, he lowered her to her feet and Sophia collapsed onto the sand in a dizzy heap.
Shaking her head to try and dispel the swimmy feeling, she pulled her shoes off her feet. ‘The world is spinning. Next time I won’t drink quite as much quite as fast. And if you even mouth the words “I told you so” I will punch you.’
He swore softly under his breath. ‘Do you even realise what could happen to you in this state? You virtually offered yourself to me.’
‘I did offer myself to you, but obviously that was too forward of me because now you’re frowning. Is it because you don’t think a woman has as much right to enjoy sex as a man?’
He sucked air through his teeth. ‘I don’t think that.’
‘Then why are you looking so disapproving? I was relying on you being as bad as everyone says you are.’ She flopped back onto the soft sand and he gave a growl low in his throat.
‘One of my few life rules is never to have sex with a drunk woman. You should be grateful for that. Stand up! I can’t have a conversation with you when you’re lying at my feet like a starfish.’
‘Why do men always compare me to animals? First my father says I’m a giraffe and now you say I’m a starfish. The day a man tells me I’m a whale, I’m killing myself.’
With an exasperated sigh he bent and lifted her and she tumbled against him, her body pressed hard against his. There was a tense, throbbing silence broken only by the soft sound of the sea on the sand and his harsh breathing in her ear.
‘This,’ he breathed, ‘is not turning out the way I planned it.’
‘Tell me about it. I thought amazing things would happen to a girl wearing a dress like this but all I got was lots of anticipation, an incredible kiss and a lecture.’
His grip on her tightened. ‘You should be grateful I’m showing restraint.’
‘Well, I’m not. I hate the fact you’re so controlled. I’d do anything for you to just lose it for a moment and follow your deepest male instincts.’
He muttered something under his breath and then cupped her face in his hands and slanted his mouth over hers. Excitement flashed through her, slid through her limbs and deep into her bones until she felt the strength leaving her. As his tongue traced the seam of her lips and dipped inside Sophia felt her tummy tighten and the world spin. His mouth moved slowly, expertly, over hers and she lost track of time and place,
of herself.
Just when she’d decided that all her dreams about kissing were still intact, he released her.
The sense of loss was searing.
She stared up at him in the semi-darkness, acutely aware of the contrast between them. He was all raw power and masculinity. Despite her height, in her bare feet she barely reached his shoulder.
Without thinking she stretched out her hand and touched his face and instantly heard his sharp intake of breath.
‘I’m taking you back to the room.’
‘Yes. Take me back to your room so that we can try out your big, beautiful bed. Strip me naked and do unspeakable things to me,’ she murmured, running her fingers over his biceps. ‘You’re very strong.’
‘Strong enough to stop you doing something you’ll regret tomorrow.’
‘You see? You pretend to be bad, but then you’re good. I hate to say I told you so, but I was right all along. Secretly you’re a nice person, although right now...’ Sophia suppressed a yawn. ‘Right now, I wish you weren’t.’
‘Stop talking, Sophia. Whenever a thought comes into your head, just trap it there. Don’t let it out.’
‘That’s what I’ve been doing all my life. If my brain is a computer then my hard drive is definitely full.’ She gave a gasp as he scooped her off her feet and strode across the sand.
Mouth tight with disapproval, he carried her up a flight of illuminated steps to a private part of the villa. Brightly coloured bougainvillaea tumbled over whitewashed walls and he strode past the small pool she’d noticed earlier outside the doors of the master suite.
‘This place is so romantic. Just in case you don’t have the energy to make it to the beach, you can leap in here on the way.’ Sophia gazed at the smooth, floodlit surface of the water, thinking it was the most tranquil place she’d ever seen. Lush exotic plants clustered around the edge of a beautiful pool and the tantalising sound of water came from two elaborate water features. ‘How long have you owned this place?’
‘A long time.’ His voice was terse. ‘Can you walk or do you want me to carry you?’
‘I definitely want you to carry me. I really like it.’ Sophia tightened her arms around his neck. ‘I want you to carry me straight to bed, and teach me everything I don’t know about seduction. We can call it market research.’
‘The state you’re in, you won’t remember any of it in the morning.’
‘If it makes you feel better, I’ll make notes. I promise to concentrate and learn quickly. You won’t have to tell me anything twice.’
‘The first thing you should learn is that you should never, ever drink again. The next time you are given a choice of drink or no drink, choose no drink.’ Casting her a look of undiluted exasperation, Damian deposited her in the centre of the huge bed and turned to the woman who had just entered the room. He spoke in rapid Greek as Sophia flopped onto her side.
‘You’re always giving out orders. Does anyone ever say no to you?’
‘They work for me. They’re paid to say yes. I ordered you a pot of coffee.’
‘I can’t drink coffee this late. It will keep me awake. Do you give orders in the bedroom?’ She sat up and rested her chin on her knees as she watched him. ‘Remove your clothes—lie like this—’ Her voice was sultry and she saw that his powerful body was simmering with barely suppressed tension. Stop talking,’ Damian advised in a thickened tone.
Sophia watched him hungrily, admiring the sleek, powerful lines of his body. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘No.’
‘Have you ever been in love?’
Stop talking, Sophia. Snap that pretty mouth of yours shut and keep it shut.’ He wrenched off his jacket and slung it on the nearest chair.
‘I’ll take that as a no.’ Her head spinning, Sophia flopped back against the soft pile of pillows that adorned the bed. ‘I want to be in love. I really, really want to be in love. As long as he loves me back. I would never, ever be with someone who doesn’t care for me. That’s one of my rules.’
‘Does this conversation have a point?’
‘I’m just telling you more about me.’
‘I don’t need to know more about you. I already know all I need to know.’
‘So you’re a man who doesn’t believe in love? I bet as far as you’re concerned it’s a myth right up there with the Minotaur and the legend of Atlantis.’
‘You should definitely stop talking.’ Damian removed his bow tie with an impatient flick of his long fingers. ‘Go into the bathroom and turn the shower to cold. It might help you. It would definitely help me.’
She rolled onto her stomach and leaned her chin in her palm. ‘Do you know what this room needs? Scented candles. Studies have shown that nine out of ten men are more likely to get laid if there is a scented candle in the room.’
His mouth tightened. ‘You know nothing about getting laid.’
‘I’m doing my best but you’re not being very accommodating.’ Trying to distract herself from the spinning, Sophia beckoned to him. ‘Kiss me. And this time don’t stop.’
He stilled, his eyes a dark, dangerous black. ‘You are playing with fire.’
‘I’d so much rather be playing with you...’ Registering the exasperation on his face, she giggled. ‘For a sophisticated man of the world with a shocking reputation, you’re very restrained.’
‘A drunk woman telling me she wants love tends to do that to me.’ Unbelievably tense, Damian dropped his tie onto a vacant chair and undid the top button of his shirt, his eyes never leaving her face.
‘I am definitely not drunk and I absolutely don’t want love from you.
I just want sex,’ Sophia said firmly. ‘Really steamy sex. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I won’t hurt you. And you can walk away afterwards and neither of us will mention it again. It will be our little secret.’
The atmosphere shifted in an instant. For a moment she thought he was going to walk out of the room but instead he stared at her for a long time, as if he were making a decision about something.
Just when she’d given up on him taking it any further, he walked towards her with a purposeful stride.
As he approached her tummy tumbled and she felt a wild flicker of delicious, terrifying anticipation.
Her eyes collided with his and she struggled to sit up. ‘Say something—’
‘You’ve said more than enough already. It’s time to stop talking.’ His tone raw, he undid the buttons on his shirt with sure, strong fingers and her mouth dried.
Her stunned gaze rested on his wide shoulders and slid slowly down to his flat abdomen.
‘I—I—’
‘You issued an invitation, Sophia. I’m here to take it up.’
As her eyes fixed on his he shrugged the shirt off his shoulders revealing a bare, bronzed torso that would have been the pride of any gladiator.
‘That’s what you want, isn’t it?’
Still looking at her, he reached for the button at the top of his trousers...
