Sale or Return Bride

‘That seems a very young age for a child.’

But she hadn’t had a home. Her father had been killed. Her mother was seriously ill in hospital and her grandfather had disowned her.

‘I liked it.’

‘You were never tempted to live with your grandfather?’

She almost laughed. Live with her grandfather? Did he really know so little about the man?

‘I enjoyed my time at school.’

‘And then you went straight to university?’

She nodded. ‘I read music and French.’

He refilled her plate for the third time. ‘You have an amazingly healthy appetite,’ he observed with a faint smile and it was on the tip of her tongue to confess that she’d never seen so much food in her life before but she stopped herself in time.

Instead she smiled. ‘I love Greek food.’

He looked at her with a curious expression in his eyes. ‘I’m pleased.’ He lounged back in his chair and questioned her more about her music and her courses and when she finally put her fork down he stood up and extended a hand.

‘I want you to play my piano, pethi mou.’ He hauled her to her feet and flashed her a smile. ‘A private concert with only me in the audience.’

Her gaze collided with his and for a breathless moment she couldn’t think about music or the piano. She couldn’t think about anything except the sudden explosion of sexual need which engulfed her.

Sebastien gave a sensuous smile of all-male understanding. ‘Later,’ he breathed softly, leading her back into the main living area towards the piano. ‘Now I want you to play for me.’

It was an order and she sat down at the piano stool and automatically flicked her hair so that it flowed down her back and not over the keys.

For a moment she sat in silence, staring at the familiar keys, her mind slightly detached.

And then she started to play. First Chopin, then Mozart, then Beethoven and finally Rachmaninov. Her fingers flew over the keys, fluent and nimble, stroking each note lovingly, drawing the best from the piano until eventually the final piece ended and her hands fell into her lap.

Silence followed.

Suddenly horribly aware that she hadn’t even questioned him on his tastes, hadn’t even thought to ask what he wanted to listen to, she risked a glance in his direction.

He was sprawled on the sofa, eyes closed, dense lashes brushing his sculpted cheekbones, long, powerful legs stretched out in front of him.

Alesia bit her lip in consternation. Had he fallen asleep?

‘That was amazing.’ His eyes opened reluctantly and she connected with blazing black. ‘Truly amazing. I had no idea you could play like that. Why aren’t you charging millions for public recitals?’

She swallowed and dragged her eyes away from his. ‘I’m not famous—’

‘But you could be,’ he asserted, coming upright in a fluid movement and walking towards her. ‘You could be world-famous.’

‘I don’t think so.’ She looked away, embarrassed and pleased that he’d enjoyed her playing so much.

‘You’ve just finished your degree—what now?’ Sebastien enquired with the single-minded focus of someone who has his entire life clearly mapped out in front of him. ‘Before you agreed to this marriage—what were your plans?’

To carry on holding down three jobs so that her mother could have the care she needed—

‘I hadn’t really thought—’

‘Your grandfather didn’t mention your talent,’ Sebastien mused and Alesia clamped her jaws together and refrained from pointing out that her grandfather knew less than nothing about her. To him she was just a pawn. You are the tool of my revenge.

‘I don’t think my grandfather is very interested in music.’

‘I adore your playing,’ Sebastien said huskily, pulling her to her feet and framing her face with his hands. ‘You are intensely passionate and sensitive—all the things that make you so wildly exciting in bed—’

Colour flew into her cheeks. ‘Sebastien—’

‘And I love the fact that you blush so easily,’ he murmured, bending his dark head and capturing her mouth in a drugging kiss that sent a flash of the most intense sexual desire shooting through her.

She gave a soft moan and moved invitingly against his hard, powerful frame and as he whispered to her in Greek he swept her into his arms.

He was always doing this, she thought vaguely, her head still spinning from the after-effects of his erotic kiss, her limbs trembling as he strode through to the bedroom and lowered her into the middle of the bed.

‘I can’t get enough of you,’ he groaned, sliding the tiny straps of her dress down her arms and fastening a burning kiss on her shoulder, ‘and we’re not leaving this island until I can go through at least five minutes in a business meeting without thinking of you.’