The Greek Commands His Mistress
Rage and mortification gusted through her as she dropped down into the seat beside Bastien, glossy black curls fanning in tousled disarray across her shoulders and brushing her flushed cheekbones.
‘And just like that you look gorgeous again, koukla mou.’
‘Is it going to be like this with everything? Your way or the highway?’ Lilah pressed in a strangled hiss.
‘What do you think?’
‘That I once thought you were enough of a man not to need to control a woman’s every move!’
His lean, darkly handsome features slashed into a sudden, entirely unexpected grin, his pride untouched by that crack. ‘The trouble is...I enjoy controlling you.’
Lilah snatched in a much-needed gulp of oxygen. He sent her temper zooming from zero to sixty in the space of seconds. She had never considered herself quick-tempered until she met Bastien, but he literally set her teeth on edge almost every time he spoke.
‘Why would you even want a woman who doesn’t want you? Or is that what it takes to turn you on?’
That was a suggestion that deeply affronted Bastien, for the merest hint of aversion to him from a lover would have repulsed him.
He turned round to face her more directly, his dark eyes flaming gold as ingots, and closed a hand into the fall of her hair to hold her still. ‘No, you’re what it takes to turn me on...but, believe me, you can make very angry.’
‘Is that a fact?’ Lilah whispered tauntingly, tilting her chin, blue eyes gleaming.
In a searing movement of sensual intimidation Bastien crushed her soft mouth under his, driving her lips apart for the stabbing penetration of his tongue. She wasn’t able to breathe, but then at that moment she didn’t want to breathe. Her head was swimming, her body stinging with wild awareness, and a roaring hunger was awakening like a hurricane deep down inside her.
For a count of ten energising seconds Bastien thought about carrying her into the sleeping compartment and sating himself on her. But he would hurt her. He knew he was too hyped up for control. Besides, it was only a short flight to London and the jet would be landing soon.
He pulled back from her, positively aching from the throbbing force of his desire. ‘You do want me,’ he contradicted thickly, scanning her wildly flushed face and swollen, reddened mouth with satisfaction. ‘You did from the first, koukla mou.’
Lilah whipped her attention away from him again and stared into space. Well, you asked for that, she told herself crossly, wondering why she always felt such a driving need to try to shoot Bastien down in flames. Unfortunately, in spite of all her efforts to ground him, he kept on soaring heavenward like a rocket.
Even so she was being confronted by a truth that she couldn’t bear to examine. From the very first glimpse she had got of Bastien she had wanted him, and the hunger he had awakened in her was both primitive and terrifying. It truly hadn’t mattered who he was or even what he was like, because her body had instantly seethed with a life of its own, wanting to connect with his, and her brain had swum with new and disturbing erotic images.
She hadn’t known attraction could be that immediate or that powerful, and had certainly never suspected that it could overwhelm all restraint and common sense. Even worse, she was painfully aware that, had Bastien employed a more subtle approach and less honesty, he most probably would have succeeded in seducing her into his bed.
The cabin crew served drinks, the glamorous blonde stewardess syrupy sweet and persistent in her determination to serve and flirt with Bastien at the same time. He ignored her behaviour as if it wasn’t happening, neither looking directly at the woman nor responding to her inviting chatter.
‘Where are we going?’ Lilah asked once the jet had landed.
‘I’m taking you shopping, and tomorrow we head to Paris. I have a business meeting there.’
‘Shopping?’ she queried in surprise.
Bastien shrugged a broad shoulder and said nothing. Lilah caught the stewardess studying her with naked envy and thought, If only you knew the truth.
But what was the real truth? Lilah asked herself as the limo whisked her and Bastien through the crowded streets of London. She had given her word and Bastien had already delivered on his promises, which meant that he owned her body and soul for the foreseeable future. And that interpretation cast her as a complete victim, Lilah acknowledged ruefully—until she admitted the reality that one glance at Bastien’s exquisitely chiselled features and tall athletic physique reduced her to a melted puddle of lust and longing. He was incredibly attractive—and, taking into account his reputation as a legendary womaniser, a very large number of women agreed with her.