Sale or Return Bride

And maybe not before then, either.

When confronted with a selection of exclusive designer outfits, she didn’t behave like any woman he’d ever met before.

In fact, her frank delight at the clothes he’d produced for her trip to the nightclub suggested that she’d virtually never purchased an item of clothing in her life.

As a male with endless experience in the art of pleasing the opposite sex, Sebastien had been forced to endure countless shopping sessions with women who contrived to look suitably bored by the whole procedure. Never had he known a woman to display such undisguised enthusiasm for clothes. Alesia had behaved like a child who’d just discovered the fun of dressing up.

Which left him with the intriguing and puzzling question of just how she’d spent his money. And he knew that she had spent it because her account was empty, but so far no one had been able to give him an answer to the question of exactly where the money had gone.

None of it made sense. And neither did his own reaction to her.

He gave a soft curse as hot molten lust thudded through him and the force of his own hunger once more threatened to overwhelm him. Never before had he felt this out of control around a woman. Only moments ago he’d been forced to leave the room because the sight of her lying there, sleepy-eyed and pink-cheeked, had made him want to pin her to the bed and keep her horizontal using the most basic and satisfying method known to man.

Even six hours in bed with her the previous afternoon hadn’t cooled his ravenous libido. He’d had no intention of patronizing the opening of Ariadne’s nightclub but he’d needed to do something to take his mind off his mounting sexual hunger for his new bride.

For a man whose attention span with women had always been alarmingly short, his reaction was as mystifying as it was frustrating and it didn’t help to acknowledge that seeing her dancing with another man had forced him to exercise a restraint previously untested. For a brief moment he’d been furious that she’d chosen to dress in such a provocative manner and then he’d been forced to recall that her attire had been his selection, chosen in a desire to remind himself that he’d married a woman prepared to sell herself. Instead he’d succeeded in making her achingly sexy. With those huge, innocent eyes and those endless legs she’d caught the attention of every man in the club. Not used to dealing with jealousy, Sebastien had gritted his teeth and wrestled with the totally baffling impulse to cover her from head to foot in a giant bin bag before transporting her home in an armoured vehicle with blacked-out windows.

It had taken every ounce of self-control for him not to grab the man who’d been dancing and smiling at Alesia and knock him unconscious.

Faced with the fact that he’d married a woman who was a walking temptation, Sebastien vowed that if he ever displayed her in public again then she’d be wearing a sack.

Perhaps it was just that he now viewed Alesia as his property, he mused, and he’d never been that great at sharing. And discovering that his bride was every bit as hot-blooded as himself made him even more inclined to lock her in his tower and throw away the key.

His body heating to boiling point at the mere memory of her uninhibited response to him, Sebastien inhaled deeply and forced himself to acknowledge that although he usually considered himself exceptionally broad-minded about many things, his new wife didn’t fall into that category. When it came to Alesia his attitude was completely and unashamedly Greek.

Dressed in a shimmer of silk that she guessed must have cost a fortune, Alesia stepped out on to the terrace and blinked in surprise.

The table was laid, candles flickered in the darkness and the air smelt enticingly of heat and summer. And she knew Sebastien had done it all for her.

‘Drink?’ Sebastien strolled towards her and handed her a glass, which she took with a wary smile.

‘I’m not sure if I should—’

‘It’s not alcoholic,’ he drawled lightly. ‘I may be many things, agape mou, but stupid isn’t one of them, although I have to confess that you become a different person under the influence of alcohol.’

She flushed. ‘I enjoyed dancing—’

‘So I observed.’ He surveyed her steadily. ‘I want to know why last night was your first visit to a nightclub. I want to know why you haven’t shopped.’

She searched for inspiration. ‘Do you spend everything you earn?’

A ghost of a smile touched his firm mouth. ‘Hardly.’

‘Precisely.’ She gave a shrug. ‘I don’t know where you get this idea that money is all about shopping.’

‘Perhaps because to the female sex it usually is,’ he drawled, ‘but you’re teaching me that women are even more complex than I first thought.’ He waved a hand at the table. ‘Let’s sit down.’