The Billionaire's Virgin Box Set

‘Not a dress, no—’ Ignoring him, she tugged herself free from his grip and walked up and down the rows of stalls until she found what she wanted. A stall selling brightly coloured hand-printed silk. She stopped, her eyes scanning the rolls until something caught her eye. It was a deep sea-green, flecked with bright blue. ‘That one, please.’ Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a notebook and pencil and drew a quick sketch. Then she did some fast calculations.

‘You are buying fabric?’ Angelos glanced at his watch, not even bothering to conceal his irritation. ‘Even with all the money at my disposal, I will not be able to find someone in Athens who will be able to make a dress for you at this late stage.’

‘I’m making it myself.’ Using the figures in her notebook, she ordered the fabric she needed and was delighted to find that she had enough money for the purchase.

Angelos muttered something in Greek and then switched to English. ‘I was happy to buy you that dress in the shop.’

‘But I wouldn’t have been happy to wear it. Not unless I’d paid for it myself. Relax, Angelos. I’m happy.’ She handed the money over to the man with a smile, and tucked the fabric into her bag. Then she moved onto the next stall and bought some thread, and to another, where she bought a plain hairslide and a selection of tiny shells.

Angelos watched in disbelief. ‘I don’t have a sewing machine in my house.’

‘I sew by hand.’ She made her last purchase. A tube of glue. ‘I just need a couple of hours to myself, that’s all. You won’t miss me. You’ll be on the phone. You always are.’ She smiled at him. ‘I don’t know why you’re so cross. I’ve saved you a fortune. And I’m happy because I paid for it myself.’

‘You’re ridiculously independent,’ he breathed. ‘I wanted to spoil you.’

Her insides melted and she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. ‘Spoil me in other ways,’ she said softly. ‘I like being with you. It’s enough.’

He stared down at her and the look in his eyes was blatantly sexual. ‘Let’s go home.’

* * *

Angelos glanced at his watch. If they didn’t hurry up

they’d be late. Not that he minded for himself. In fact, arriving late would have been his preference, but he was worried about Chantal. She was already nervous enough. He didn’t want her to make a late entrance, especially when she was wearing a dress that she’d made herself from a scrap of fabric she’d bought in a market.

Didn’t she realise that she was going to be exposing herself to the sort of scrutiny that she hated?

Cursing fluently, he ran a hand over the back of his neck and wished he’d just purchased the other dress and demolished her objections.

‘Angelos?’

Hearing her voice, he turned. And caught his breath.

The unexceptional piece of fabric from the market had been transformed into an elegant dress. It fell from two shoestring straps, skimmed the feminine curves of her body and pooled on the floor, the hemline shimmering with tiny shells. Her sleek hair spilled like warm sunshine over her bare shoulders and a delicate bracelet of shells encircled one slender wrist. In one hand she carried a matching fabric evening bag.

She looked spectacular. And impossibly sexy. Like a mermaid allowed one night of earthly pleasure.

Lust slammed through his body with predictable force and his mouth dried.

Clearly apprehensive, she took a few steps towards him and then hesitated. ‘Say something—’ Her tone was light, but her expression was anxious as she watched his reaction. ‘And make sure it’s something nice.’

Driven by the demands of his libido, Angelos strode across to her and pulled her into his arms, anchoring her against the almost painful throb of his erection. Then he bent his head and captured her glossy mouth with his, kissing her until he felt the hard tips of her breasts press through the thin cotton of his shirt.

She sank against him for a few seconds and then dragged her mouth from his. ‘You just removed all my lipstick,’ she protested breathlessly, and Angelos wondered whether it would be risky to admit that her lipstick wasn’t the only thing he wanted to remove at that moment.

‘You look amazing.’

Her face brightened. ‘Really? I’m not going to embarrass you?’

‘No, but I might well embarrass myself if you go out looking like that.’ He ran a hand over her bare shoulder. ‘You look like a very, very sexy mermaid. I can’t look at you without wanting to take you to bed. I can’t believe you made that dress. How did you learn to sew?’

‘I taught myself. You like it?’ She sounded delighted, and he realised with a stab of surprise just how much he wanted her to be happy.

She still hadn’t said much about her childhood, but he sensed that she’d had an extremely hard life and he hated the fact that she had so little confidence.

Vowing to change all that, he admired the shells on the dress. He’d never been remotely interested in women’s fashions, but even he could see that what she’d produced was nothing short of spectacular.

‘You should be really proud of yourself.’