Sold to the Enemy

Candles flickered in the faint breeze and sounds of Greek music played in the background.

It felt so far from her old life. ‘Has anyone heard anything of my father?’

Stefan frowned. ‘You don’t need to be worried about your father.’

‘I just wondered. I know you’re in constant touch with Takis.’

‘Of course. He’s my head of security.’

‘And you briefed him to tell you where my father is at all times.’

‘He told you that?’

‘He didn’t want me to keep looking over my shoulder and worrying.’

Stefan hesitated and then reached for his wine. ‘Your father hasn’t left Antaxos since that night, although he did have a visit from the police.’

‘He will have seen more photographs of us together.’

‘But he hasn’t acted. He knows he can’t touch you. I won’t let him touch you.’

The savage edge to his tone shocked her. ‘You’re so angry with him. Is it because of your mother?’

‘No. My mother was an adult. She made a choice and left of her own free will.’ He frowned into his glass. ‘It took me years to see that.’

‘That must have been painful.’

‘Because I had to come to terms with the fact she chose him over my father and me? Yes, it was painful. I’d spent years planning how I could become more powerful so that I could storm the island and free her. It took me too long to realise she wouldn’t have wanted to be freed.’

That was what had driven him, she realised. He’d wanted power. He’d wanted to be able to wield whatever power he needed.

‘But you’re still angry—’

‘I’m angry because of the way he treated you.’ Slowly, he put the glass down on the table. ‘My mother had a choice. You didn’t. You were trapped there.’

His words warmed her and confused her.

They suggested he cared and yet she knew he avoided that degree of emotional attachment to anyone. She wondered if he was driven by guilt. If he was still blaming himself for exposing her to danger.

She didn’t dare hope it was anything else and she certainly didn’t dare ask him.

She was just enjoying the moment, and if a part of her wanted it to be more than a moment—well, she ignored it.

She had now. She had him.

‘But you rescued me.’ Ignoring the envious glances of the other women in the restaurant, Selene lifted her glass. ‘I can’t believe you’re giving me champagne after last time. You swore you’d never do it again.’

‘You can drink it as long as you’re with me.’ His fingertips slowly caressed her wrist and she felt his touch right through her body.

It terrified her that she felt like this. It made her vulnerable, she realised. For her, this had moved beyond fun. It was the most intense experience of her life and the thought of losing it was terrifying.

‘It seems ages ago,’ she murmured, ‘that night at your villa.’

‘A lot has happened since then.’ His eyes were on hers and then on her mouth and she knew he wanted exactly what she wanted.

‘Stefan—’

‘Let’s go.’ Without releasing her hand, he flung money down on the table and propelled her out of the restaurant, either oblivious or indifferent to the interested looks of the other diners.

He released her hand just long enough to ease his car out of its parking space and then slid his fingers into hers again and pressed her hand to his knee, driving one handed through the narrow streets. She probably should have been worried, but the only thing she could focus on was the hardness of his thigh under her hand and the firm grip of his fingers as they held hers.

Her breathing grew shallow. She tried not to look at him but lost the battle and turned her head briefly at the exact time he turned to look at her. Their eyes clashed. Their gazes burned and he cursed softly and brought the car to a ragged halt outside the hotel.

Throwing the keys to the parking attendant, Stefan strode directly to their suite.

They were barely through the door before his hand came behind her neck and he was kissing her.

Mouths fused, they stumbled back and the door slammed shut.

He braced one hand against the door, his other hand holding her face for his kiss, and she wanted it so badly, was so desperate for his touch, his kiss, his body, that her fingers fumbled on the buttons of his shirt. She tore it, sent buttons flying, slid her hands down hard, male muscle and then dragged her mouth from his and kissed her way down his bronzed chest.