The Greek Tycoon's Unexpected Wife

The intensity of the experience stunned him.

He looked at the woman resting against him, her head on his chest, her long dark tresses spread over him. Her hand curled near his navel. One soft thigh rested over his, and at his side was the damp heat of her feminine centre.

She was a conundrum. An enigma. As unstinting in her responses and as sensuous as any man could wish. That must be why he wanted her so badly. Again. Already. Inevitably.

And yet she was innocent, sexually at least. All she knew was what he’d taught her.

Something like pride and pleasure inflated in his chest at the idea. Something that a civilised man wouldn’t admit to. Nevertheless his lips curved up into a smile as he savoured that knowledge.

And she hadn’t taken his money. In fact she’d signed it away. To what purpose? That niggled at him. How could he control this situation if he didn’t understand it?

Just because she’d been a virgin didn’t mean she wasn’t after his money. Why else come straight here from South America? Her arrival during his betrothal party had been impeccably timed for maximum disruptive effect.

If she’d been as innocent as she claimed Tessa Marlowe would be in Australia right now, taking up her old life.

Stavros stroked his palm possessively down her back, noting with pleasure the instinctive way she responded to the caress, pressing her breasts forward, against him. She must be coming out of her light doze to react like that. Instantly the heat of anticipation prickled his skin.

He still had to find out what she was up to and why she’d indulged in the defiant gesture with the contract. But there was time to pursue that. And other things.

His hand swept the curve of her hip and back up. He smiled. An annulment was out of the question now. At least on the grounds of non-consummation.

So it would have to be a divorce. It might take longer, but that was no problem. In fact, it would be a pleasure. His pleasure.

He intended to make the most of this time with his uninvited spouse. By the time the legalities were completed he’d have her measure, his curiosity would be satisfied and this passion would have burned out.

Stavros deliberately ignored the proprietary thoughts Tessa aroused in him. Those were his hormones speaking. It couldn’t be anything else. He knew only too well that romantic love was an illusion. Hadn’t he watched his father fall victim to that particular dream time and again?

These possessive stirrings in his blood were entirely natural, especially given the fact that he was Tessa’s first lover.

They didn’t mean anything more.

CHAPTER TWELVE

IN THE days since she and Stavros had fought and ended up in his bed, so much had changed. Gone was the cold, hard-as-nails tormentor and in his place was a man who seemed intent on turning Tessa’s most secret fantasies into reality.

That first day he hadn’t left her side. They’d barely left his bed. Even now the memory of his passion, his vigour and his tenderness brought a flush to her cheeks. When he channelled that formidable energy into the task of pleasing a woman the results were mind-boggling.

After that he’d only gone to Athens for quick trips in the afternoons while Tessa slept. She needed the time to recuperate from the long nights that stretched well into daylight, when their mutual desire was unquenchable.

It was bliss. Better than anything she’d imagined.

And it can’t last, she told her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

She was living in a fool’s paradise, giving in to what she felt for Stavros, succumbing to his passion, his intensity, his voracious sexuality. To his beguiling, heart-stopping tenderness. To the illusion that fantasy had become real.

This was no life for her, living in limbo with neither a commitment given nor any discussion of emotional ties.

She knew it. In the few waking moments when he was away from her side, the knowledge tortured her. But for once she wanted to live the dream, to grab life by the throat and enjoy it. Not worry about the future, or the past. Surely after the last few years she was entitled to just a taste of her favourite fantasy: she and Stavros together, inseparable. In love.

Surely the damage was already done, now she’d given herself to him. Leaving immediately would be just as hard as leaving in a few days or weeks. Why not enjoy the exquisite delights of being his lover, store up memories of bliss against the time she’d be alone again?

Nothing was more certain than that she’d be alone again one day. She’d never really belonged anywhere, had always been the outsider. She should be used to it by now, able to cope when the time came to leave.

Yet she refused to give in to self-pity. Her head held high, she pulled open the door and walked through to the bedroom.

As always, Stavros captured her attention immediately. He stood near the door, wearing chinos and a black short-sleeved shirt that revealed his strong, sinewy forearms.