The Billionaire's Virgin Box Set

Uncomfortable thoughts from her childhood drifted into her head but she pushed them away again instantly, just not able to go there at this moment.

One thing she did know was that the sex had changed everything. She’d agreed to accept his hospitality only because he’d convinced her that his father’s recovery depended on her presence. She’d been comfortable with it because there had been nothing personal in the invitation.

But now everything had changed.

And it was perfectly obvious what she had to do.

CHAPTER SIX

SERIOUSLY distracted, Angelos took his business call, snapped the head off the person on the other end of the phone and then instructed his PA in Athens not to put through any more calls.

At that moment he wasn’t interested in talking to his senior management team. Nor was he interested in talking to any of the businessmen who clamoured for his attention on an almost hourly basis.

There were urgent matters demanding his attention. But for the first time in his life he didn’t even care.

He should have been thinking about work, but all he could think about was sex.

Sex with Chantal.

Cursing softly in Greek, he paced the length of his office. His entire body was burning and unfulfilled and all he wanted to do was stride back onto the terrace, drag her somewhere extremely private and indulge in a repeat performance—complete with several encores.

Never in his life had he been so hot for a woman, and he didn’t understand it because she possessed none of the qualities that he admired.

True, she was beautiful, but she was also dishonest—and she’d admitted as such. All right, so she wasn’t Isabelle Ducat. She’d hadn’t chosen to make a living out of divorce. But she had taken a ticket that wasn’t hers, and she hadn’t corrected him when he’d assumed her to be the owner of the ticket.

She’d posed as someone else, apparently more than comfortable to perpetrate that particular untruth. That fact alone should have been the sexual equivalent of sitting in a bath of ice cubes, because he hated deception.

He might have felt more kindly towards her had she just admitted that a few weeks in Greece with a billionaire had sounded like fun. Instead of which she’d insisted that she’d agreed to accompany him out of concern for his father.

So why, knowing all that, was his libido raging madly out of control?

Why did he feel like a teenager whose hormones were well and truly in control?

With a humourless laugh he forced himself to accept the obvious.

Because the sex had been nothing short of stupendous. That was why.

Deceitful she might be, but she’d also been a virgin, and the fact that he was her first lover had given him an incredible buzz.

Which meant that clearly he wasn’t as modern in his attitudes as he liked to think.

He narrowed his eyes and ran through the facts logically.

All right, so she hadn’t told him the truth. But she was right that he was the one who had insisted that she come. And, had she told him the truth about her identity, would it have changed anything?

No. He still would have wanted her to come for the sake of his father.

So what difference did any of it make?

She was here now, wasn’t she?

The chemistry between them was amazing.

What was the problem?

She was here for a free holiday with a billionaire, so why not give her that holiday? And if it cost him a few dresses and the odd diamond necklace, so what?

They’d share incredible sex during the night, and during the day he’d arrange for her to spend as much time shopping as she could handle. She was using him for money, so why shouldn’t he use her for sex?