A Cinderella for the Greek

She swallowed. That huge, choking lump was still in her throat, and the tidal wash of emotion was still pounding in her.

‘Why...?’ The single word was faint, uncomprehending.

‘Why, what?’ he said blankly.

His self-control was under the greatest pressure he’d ever experienced in his life. Even worse than that very first night of the revelation of her beauty to him, when she had offered her mouth to him and he had swooped upon it with all the hunger of a starving man—and then, with the feast before him, had had to draw back, let her go and get the hell out of her bedroom before he’d succumbed to the most intense temptation he’d ever known.

Even worse than that...

‘Why...?’ She swallowed. ‘Why are you asking me to marry you?’

And Max lost it. Finally lost it. It had all been just too damn much. Too damn much from the moment Ellen had laid into him in his hotel suite, telling him the truth about the vultures who were feeding off her. In that single instant he’d known exactly what he was going to do—and he’d spent the last fortnight pulling out every stop, racing to get the paperwork done, the contracts drawn up and completed, and to drive down here to do what he had just done. Hand her back her home and gain her for himself.

‘Will this help you understand?’ he demanded.

He swept her up to him, his strength easily crushing her against him, his mouth swooping down on hers. And instantly she went up in flames, her mouth opening to his, melding with his. Her arms wound around him, her fingers spearing into his hair. She was hungry for him. Desperate for him. When finally he released her she was shaking, breathless.

Max’s hands splayed around her face. ‘I’ve fallen in love with you,’ he said.

His voice was quiet but there was an intensity in it, a strength that came from the very core of his being.

‘Somewhere along the way I’ve fallen in love with you. Oh, I admit that my motives in taking you to London were entirely self-interested—you knew that...knew I was seeking to open your eyes to what your life could be like beyond the narrow confines you’d imprisoned yourself in with your vendetta against your stepmother and stepsister once you’d discovered your own beauty. But once I’d discovered it too—and helped myself to it!’ His voice was wry. ‘Once I’d whisked you off to enjoy it to the full... Well...’ Warmth infused his voice now. ‘It dawned on me that I was enjoying your company in a way I’d never experienced with any other woman.’

‘Even Tyla Brentley?’ Ellen breathed.

A dismissive sound came from his throat. ‘Tyla was lovely to look at, glamorous to be with—and totally self-absorbed. You... Ah, you were utterly different. Even before you had your makeover I knew that. You’re intelligent, clear-sighted, and I approve of your efforts with all those deprived city children.’

He dropped a kiss on her nose.

‘We had a good time together, Ellen, on our travels. We were good together—incredibly, fantastically good. And when you stormed off I wasn’t just appalled to discover how vicious your step-relations were, I also knew I desperately didn’t want you to leave me! I knew I had to try and get you back—get you back so we could go on being good together. Good together for the rest of our lives, Ellen—that’s what I so hope for.’

Something changed in his voice again now, and an urgency speared it.

‘And if somewhere along the way you happen...just happen to come to feel for me what I feel for you... Well...’

She didn’t let him finish. She reached up her hand, snaked it around the back of his head, hauled his mouth down to hers again. She pressed her lips hard against him to silence him. Then, as she drew back again, emotion burst in her.

And so did a storm of weeping.

For the second time in a handful of minutes she clutched at him as wave after wave of emotion swept through her yet again—and again and again. Max loved her—he loved her! He’d given her the inestimable gift of her home to her, and he’d given her a more incomparable gift as well.

Himself. His heart. His love.

‘Max! Oh, Max!’ It was all she could say. But it seemed to satisfy him.

As she finally came down on the other side of the tsunami inside her he patted her back and reached for the ring box, sitting abandoned on her father’s desk.

‘That’s got to be a definite yes,’ he told her, with satisfaction in his voice and the love in his eyes pouring out over her, embracing her and caressing her.

‘Of course it is!’ She gulped. ‘I kept telling myself that because you were the first man in my life of course I’d get the idea in my head that I’d fallen in love with you—but it wasn’t just that. It was real. Completely real what I was feeling for you. When I stormed out on you it was tearing me to pieces, and being out in Canada, facing the rest of my life without Haughton and without you—I... I just couldn’t bear it!’

Tears threatened again, spilling into her watery eyes.

‘And now I’ve got both—I’ve got my beloved home and I’ve got something even more desperately precious to me.’ Her face worked. ‘I’ve got you. And you, my dearest, most adored and most wonderful Max, are my heart, my life—the love of my life.’

‘Excellent!’ he said, and his satisfaction was total now. ‘So,’ he said to her, taking the ruby ring from its case, ‘do we finally get to the ring bit now?’

He took her hand again and, not waiting for an answer, slid the ring carefully over her finger. But he did not relinquish her hand. Instead he gazed down at her.