Innocent in Her Enemy’s Bed

CHAPTER FIVE

LEANDERHADN’TSEEN ILONA since their engagement dinner two nights ago. After their passionate kiss, she had steered their conversation to pedestrian topics like a tentative guest list and their preferences for a house. They had said their good-nights outside her building without another kiss or an invitation to join her upstairs—not that he had expected one, previous, mind-blowing kiss notwithstanding.

That kiss had kept him hard nearly every minute since, however. It had been meant as a brief stamp of finality on their deal, but she had turned her head ever so slightly and her mouth had melted like spun sugar beneath his own. Who knew a kiss could catch fire? Not him, but in seconds a conflagration had surrounded them.

He had stood within it, reveled in it, while her lithe body pressed against his in surrender. If he hadn’t felt his cuff become snared in her dress, he might be kissing her still.

But he had and that had been a necessary moment of sanity.

Even so, he wondered through the next hours and days if they really would eschew sex when they had such incredible chemistry. He wasn’t a masochist so why torture himself if she was amenable?

Thirty minutes ago, he had received his answer. His head of PR had tipped him off to a rumor circulating about his intended. He didn’t want to believe it, but it would explain why Ilona had leapt on his proposal so unexpectedly and kissed him with such fervor.

Did she think he was born yesterday? What he had briefly forgotten was that she was a Pagonis. They were born without a conscience.

The question was, would he go through with marrying her to achieve what he wanted despite the way she was trying to pull the wool over his eyes?

“There she is.” Ursula, his property agent, noted Ilona’s car was approaching up the drive of the villa they were here to view.

When the car halted, Leander opened the back door himself. Ilona’s calf and half her thigh briefly flashed from the slit in her skirt, sending an irritating jolt of heat into his groin.

He didn’t want to respond to her, but now that he’d had that brief taste, he couldn’t help it. Everything about her appealed to his basest instincts, making him want to touch and taste and explore and own.

As she straightened, she started to slip on her sunglasses, but he stopped her.

“We’ll be inside. You don’t need those.” He stole them and dropped them into the backseat, wanting to see every thought and machination that crossed her deceptive heart.

A hundred emotions glinted and sparked in the melted chocolate of her irises, from surprise to nervous searching of his gaze to wary vulnerability. Her lashes flickered as she dropped her attention to his mouth, seeming to expect a greeting.

He was tempted to kiss the hell out of her. Would she give herself up in the same way every time? He was dying to know, but he confined himself to a brief brush of his lips against her cheek.

Erotic memory wafted into his brain with the subtle fragrance of anise and roses that clung to her skin, enticing him, but he didn’t give in.

“Meet Ursula,” he said abruptly.

Ilona’s mouth might have briefly trembled in rejection, but he was learning that she had a talent for overcoming moments of transparency. It was as maddening as it was admirable, but it was also a reason to be cautious, reminding him she kept a lot hidden.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She shook the agent’s hand.

Leander walked behind them as Ursula escorted Ilona inside and extolled the virtues of the property. The neighborhood of Ekali was a prime location and this terraced estate was very private, surrounded by trees while still affording mountain views from its tiers of verandas and balconies.

They paused in the foyer where black-and-white tiles were arranged in concentric circles beneath a dome that poured sunlight onto the wide spiral staircase. Grand archways ensured the entire ground level flowed from one room into another. An airy lounge became a music room and then a dining area. At the back, a wall of glass opened onto the garden and further along, the pool.

Ursula knew Leander well. She mentioned the indoor pool and the servants’ quarters in the lower floor, then wrapped up her pitch, suggesting they explore the rest on their own.

That suited him. He wanted a private word with his fiancée.

Ilona was quiet as they returned to the main staircase and walked up, but he sensed her glancing surreptitiously at him from beneath her lashes.

A second, equally splendid spiral took them to the top floor which was completely reserved as a master suite with separate bedrooms, each with its own bath. A small lounge connected the two rooms. The house was built into a hillside, so there was a walk-out to an upper garden along with a balcony that overlooked the pool.

As they squinted against the sunshine, assessing the view, Leander considered whether to ask her outright if she was using him to hide an unplanned pregnancy or whether it was better to feed her enough rope to hang herself.

“I think it’s perfect,” Ilona said in the exceedingly polite tone he found so unsatisfying.

“Really? I hate it.” He really did. There were too many stairs, too much deliberate opulence. It was both claustrophobic with the surrounding trees, and yet had a view that was uninspiring. Also, he was in a very bad mood, uninclined to like anything.

Ilona jerked at his antagonistic tone, but quickly recovered. “We’re being honest?”