The Virgin's Secret

Angel couldn’t, too hurt. ‘Why, Leo? Isn’t this exactly what you planned? A round of public appearances with your mistress of revenge, making it perfectly obvious that your only interest in me is completely superficial? Making sure there is maximum speculation, maximum humiliation?’

Angel bit her lip. The words had spilled out before she could stop them. ‘Well, if it’s any consolation, the gossip in the powder room is already rife, and let’s just say I don’t come off well.’

Leo frowned. ‘What did you hear?’

Angel shook her head, aghast at having revealed so much. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

Because the awful thing was, he might be humiliating her in public, but he’d be taking her to bed at night, and once in his bed the last thing she felt was humiliated.

Leo opened his mouth to speak, but just then someone came to interrupt them. Much to Angel’s surprise, he didn’t let go of her hand; he kept her close, introducing her to the other man. And, while he didn’t go out of his way to include her in the conversation, he didn’t let her out of his sight for the rest of the evening, making Angel’s emotions see-saw even more.

In the car on the way home, Angel rotated her head to try and ease out the kinks. She was exhausted.

‘Did you really design Lucy’s necklace?’

Angel stopped rotating her head and looked at Leo warily. ‘Of course. I wouldn’t lie about something like that. What would be the point?’

Her simple assertion struck him somewhere deep. Leo just looked at her for a long moment. ‘It’s a beautiful piece.’

Angel shrugged awkwardly. He sounded surprised, as if he hadn’t meant to give her a compliment. ‘Thank you.’

‘You haven’t been making jewellery since you left college because…?’

Angel jumped in. This was a very tender point for her. ‘I haven’t been making jewellery because I don’t have the facilities.’

Leo shook his head. ‘But you’ve been working, surely it’s possible to rent a workspace?’

‘The equipment and the raw materials I need are too expensive.’

Leo sat back. ‘You must really resent having had to resort to menial work.’

Angel blinked. In that moment she realised that she’d never resented having to work; she’d only missed the fact that she’d had to put off her dream. It had been very simple: she’d had to be there for Delphi. Necessitating that they stay at home to cut down on living costs. She shook her head. ‘I had no choice.’

Leo found himself wondering uncomfortably why Angel hadn’t just resorted to hanging out on the vibrant Athenian social scene in order to try and seduce a rich husband from her own social sphere. Evidently her sister had done just that… But then just as quickly he found himself quashing the curiosity when he found it inevitably led to wondering how she’d remained a virgin. A virgin didn’t go out to seduce rich husbands.

She wasn’t a virgin any more; she was his. Something deeply primitive and possessive moved through him. Ruthlessly he pulled Angel over until she sat in his lap. She resisted him, but he caressed her back through the flimsy silk. He’d seen her sitting alone at their dinner table earlier, and had had to restrain himself from going over and claiming her. The only thing that had stopped him had been the weakness he’d felt that would show, especially when Ari Levakis had been quizzing him as to why on earth he’d taken her as his mistress. So he’d let her sit there, but had been burningly aware of her every second, of the proud way she’d held her head—defiant, almost.

It hadn’t sat well with him, and when Angel had said those things to him he’d felt shame clawing upwards. Not an emotion he was used to when it came to women.

No matter why he was with Angel, he’d had no conscious intention of ignoring her in public. His plan had been humiliation, yes, but that would come when he had had enough of her and ejected her from his life, making it very clear she’d been just a temporary addition. It would come from knowing that Tito Kassianides would be confronted with pictures splashed all over the tabloids tomorrow of his daughter in bed with the enemy.

In truth, he’d been shocked to hear her say that she’d already been the subject of gossip; clearly Athens was in a league with New York and its wildfire gossip circuit.

Angel still resisted him on his lap, looking resolutely out of the window. He stroked her back and pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her arm. He felt the first tiny signs of her relaxing and smiled. His caressing hand pulled her in closer, until she fell against him, yet still she was tense. His other hand rested on her thigh and then started to move to where her legs were pressed tightly together.

With gentle force he pressed his hand against her mons. He could feel heat coming through the silk, and the inevitable hardening of his own arousal. He moved subtly and heard Angel’s indrawn breath as she felt him push against the thin barrier of her dress, against the globes of her bottom.

He reached up and pulled her chin around to face him. He didn’t like the look in her eyes: it was too naked. Too full of things he didn’t want to know. So he pulled her head down and kissed her, hard, and with a deep groan of triumph felt her sink into him completely, her lithe body pressing into his, enflaming him so much that by the time they reached the villa he was aching to bury himself inside her.

By the end of that first week the whole world knew that Leo Parnassus had taken Angel as his mistress. Paparazzi were camped at the gates to the villa. Every night they’d gone out, either to a function or just for dinner, and the response had been a growing hysteria.

Headlines screamed out of newsstands: ‘Parnassus and Kassianides bury seventy years of enmity between the sheets.’ And other headlines, more snide, with suggestions of Leo Parnassus being paid in kind. It was awful. It was exactly what Leo had planned.

One morning, when Angel had gone down to breakfast and had been surprised to see Leo there, she’d asked nervously, ‘What about your father—won’t this hurt him?’

Leo had looked at her sharply, and then with a hard look had said, ‘My father is aware of the situation, but he has no say in who I choose as my lover.’

Angel had swallowed nervously, unaccountably concerned for the much elder man she could remember seeing at the party in the villa; he’d looked so frail. ‘But still, it can’t be easy, when he’s spent his whole life wanting to avenge his family name.’