Bought: The Greek's Baby

She needed to do whatever it took to regain her memory, for Talos’s sake. For their baby’s sake. For her own.

Tomorrow, she promised herself firmly. Tomorrow, she would be brave. Tomorrow, she would let him kiss her.

When Talos woke up the next morning, Eve was gone.

He sat up on the couch with an intake of breath. Looking at the bright light from the windows, he knew he’d overslept; the clock over the mantel said eleven. Where was Eve? He looked at the king-sized bed.

It was empty. Empty and made.

She’d made the bed?

With a growl deep in his throat, he stood up, dropping his blankets and pillow haphazardly to the floor. Then he saw the little note in her handwriting written on hotel stationary, neatly affixed to the top pillow.

Gone shopping. Back soon.

He exhaled. So she hadn’t regained her memory and run away. He’d ordered Kefalas to keep an eye on her in any case. She wouldn’t escape him again.

Eve was out shopping. A humorless smile traced his lips. Apparently she hadn’t changed as much as he’d thought.

With a yawn, he raised his arms over his head, stretching his half-naked body. His chest was bare, his legs in pajamas. Every muscle ached, and it wasn’t just because he’d managed to fit his six-foot-three frame into a couch that was at most five foot ten. It was from being so close to Eve.

Listening to her breathe.

Remembering the last time he’d slept in a room with her.

The last time she’d been in his bed.

He clawed back his hair. Spending the whole day with her yesterday, pretending to be her devoted lover, had been difficult. Spending the whole night in the same hotel room without trying to seduce her had nearly killed him.

He hated that he still wanted her.

She’d been perfect three months ago, her figure slender but curvaceous in all the right places, but now her newly pregnant breasts were so lush, while her waist was still so tiny, that she was the epitome of any man’s dream.

Including his.

He’d purposely stayed in the next room until 3:00 a.m., answering e-mails and making long phone calls to Australia about the Sydney deal. He’d purposefully waited until he’d nearly passed out over his keyboard before he allowed himself to stumble back into the dark bedroom and fall on the couch. As the window’s light changed to the grayness of dawn, he’d finally collapsed with exhaustion.

But even in sleep, he’d had endless dreams of making love to her. He’d woken up hard for her.

With a loud curse, Talos twisted his head to crack the vertebrae in his neck. He hurt all over.

Stomping into the bathroom, he turned on the shower then stared blankly at the rapidly steaming water.

He’d always known Eve was shallow and selfish. But he’d been intrigued by all her contradictions, his seductive virgin mistress, the gorgeous beauty who never asked him questions or revealed any of her feelings. Unlike any other woman, she’d taken pleasure in bed without emotion.

He’d been captivated by her. When she was naked beneath him in bed, when he brought her to a gasping climax, her blue eyes had shone up at his with sudden searing vulnerability. He’d thought there was something more inside her soul. Some mystery that only he could solve.

And he’d kept on believing that, right up till the day she’d sneaked from their bed, rifled through his private safe and stolen damaging financial information to give to Jake Skinner over a romantic breakfast.

Overnight, the Xenakis Group’s stock had crashed nearly in half, causing him to lose nearly the whole company with margin calls. If Talos hadn’t had the resources of his personal fortune to back him up, he would have lost his company. He would have lost everything.

Instead of buying distressed companies at pennies on the dollar, he would have been one of the poor fools forced to sell.

He cursed softly in Greek.

And in spite of all that, he’d nearly kissed her tonight. He’d wanted to take her against the wall of an alley in view of the Bridge of Sighs and possess her utterly. Over and over. Until he had his fill.

He was so tense with fighting his desire for her, that when those Italians had dared to whistle at Eve, he’d almost thrown himself at them. He’d suddenly relished the thought of the relief of pain, of punching them all bloody in an honest fight.