Bought: The Greek's Innocent Virgin. Sarah Morgan

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      Exasperated with himself, he forced his attention back to her eyes. ‘Even if I wasn’t already aware of your reputation, Isabelle, your performance at the ball would have been more than enough to convince me that, quite apart from being that “sort of woman”, in fact your specialist subject is the inside of men’s hotel rooms.’

      ‘My reputation?’ She sounded astonished, as though it were news to her that she had a reputation, and he gave her a warning glance.

      ‘Now I know who you are, I can understand why you went to such extraordinary lengths not to introduce yourself. Next time you want to trap a billionaire, change your name.’

      Her eyes widened, and suddenly he forgot everything that he’d been intending to say.

      She had the most amazing eyes he’d ever seen. Standing this close, and with the benefit of the spring sunshine to light her face, he could see that the sapphire was broken by flecks of green—as if an adoring artist had been determined to do everything possible to increase the impact of those eyes on a woefully poorly prepared male race. And as for her body—

      He gritted his teeth, aware that it had been her body that had contributed to the situation they now found themselves in. His libido had smothered the sound of alarm bells ringing in his head.

      His comment silenced her for a moment and she watched him, her chest rising and falling under the white lace blouse.

      Aware that the audience around them was listening intently to the entire conversation, Angelos reached out and slid an arm round her waist, jerking her against him.

      ‘I’ll give you some more free advice,’ he murmured softly, his lips close to her ear. His actions were those of a lover, but his words were those of an aggressor, and he felt the sudden tension in her body, ‘if you want a man to believe in your virtue, don’t wear a skirt that reveals your chosen brand of underwear. Not that I’m complaining, you understand. If we have to do this, we might as well both enjoy it. In fact, I’m wondering what extras come with the waitress costume? Whipped cream? Melted chocolate?’

      ‘Do what? What are you talking about?’

      He felt her try to pull away and pressed his hand into the hollow of her back, distracted by how small her waist was. How could anyone manage to be curvy and slender at the same time?

      ‘I’m talking about our new relationship, agape mou. The one you wanted so badly.’

      ‘You’re being ridiculous. Let me go.’

      ‘Believe me, there’s nothing I’d like more. But unfortunately I can’t. Thanks to you, we’re both in a situation that can’t be easily solved. You’re coming with me now, so that we can analyse our extremely limited options.’ They were still locked together, the softness of her body pressed against the unyielding hardness of his, and he was finding it harder and harder to focus on what needed to be done. What had started as a means of ensuring that their conversation remained private had swiftly turned into something much, much more intimate.

      It was like being back on the dance floor.

      The scent of her skin and hair invaded his senses and he felt the immediate reaction of his body. Sexual awareness erupted and she obviously felt it too because she gave a moan of denial.

      ‘Why would you want me to come with you? I seem to remember you telling me that you would rather be celibate than spend the rest of your life with a woman like me.’

      He tensed. He’d flung those words at her on the night of the ball, and having them thrown back at him now was a harsh reminder of the realities of the current situation.

      ‘I have no intention of spending the rest of my life with you. Just a few weeks. I’m sure that will be more than enough for both of us.’

      ‘A few weeks?’ She gave a brief shake of her head. ‘I still have no idea what you’re talking about, and my answer is still no.’

      ‘So far I haven’t asked you a question that needed an answer. Either you get in the car, or I’ll lift you into it myself.’

      ‘We have an audience who can see quite clearly that you are bullying me. Do you really think you can kidnap me in broad daylight?’

      ‘No. I plan to be a great deal more subtle than that.’ He brought his mouth down on hers and directed all the anger and frustration he was feeling into his kiss. But the moment her soft lips melded with his, his mind blanked and all control vanished. Her mouth was like a wicked, forbidden drug and even as he lost himself in the kiss he knew that the taste of her lips was going to stay with him for ever. Sweet, seductive, dangerously sinful—

      Abruptly he lifted his head, astounded by his own ferocious hunger.

      As he frowned down at her beautiful face, he noticed that her eyes were dazed and her cheeks were flushed. Her fingers were locked into the fabric of his shirt, as if for support.

      Aware that he was fast approaching the point where he’d be prepared to risk a conviction for committing an indecent act in a public place, Angelos released her. ‘No Parisian will intervene in a lovers’ quarrel, agape mou. They know that the path of true love rarely runs smoothly, and by now they are all longing to see me ride roughshod over your objections and go for the happy ending.’

      Without waiting for her response, he took her arm, controlling her easily with one hand while he used the other to open the car door.

      As he propelled her into the passenger seat, a woman watching gave an envious sigh and turned to her friend.

      ‘L’amour,’ she said, and Angelos gave a grim smile as he slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

      Not l’amour, he thought viciously as he trod hard on the accelerator and made for the hotel.

      Not l’amour at all.

      What he had in mind had a much less romantic description attached to it.

      CHAPTER THREE

      WHAT did he want with her?

      The living room of his penthouse suite was bigger than her entire flat, and looked out over the whole of Paris. It was a view that only the privileged few ever enjoyed, and at any other time Chantal would have been enchanted. But not now.

      Her body was still in a state of helpless excitement following that one devastating kiss.

      If dancing with him had been erotic, then kissing him had been—

      She couldn’t find a word for it.

      Her legs still trembling, she looked around for somewhere solid to prop herself. She needed the support just in case he kissed her again.

      But that wasn’t going to happen, was it?

      He wasn’t even looking at her. Instead he was staring in brooding silence down into the streets below.

      Her tongue sneaked out and touched her lower lip, still slightly swollen from the bruising force of his kiss. She was well aware that he’d used the kiss as a means of distracting their audience, but that knowledge in no way diminished the chemistry that had exploded between them.

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